Unlike the muck of life, with the rarefied air of theater, an audience is afforded aesthetic distance. Just enough closeness to feel the sting yet far enough away so that everyone can exit the theater in one piece when the lights go up. A truth magnificently expressed by Russell Edson:
WAITING FOR THE FAT LADY TO SING
It was the longest opera ever written. By the time the fat lady sang most of the audience had died in their seats still holding their programs, the theater full of flies and microbes.
Some began to think that perhaps the opera was a bit long, that maybe the fat lady should start singing a little earlier so the audience might have time to write their wills, and to say goodbye to friends and family.
But others felt, what better way to die than waiting for the fat lady to sing in the make-believe of theater, where nothing's real, not the fat lady, nor even death . . .
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