Opera Memphis opens its two-night production of The Magic Flute tonight at The Orpheum. Washington, D.C., modern dancer Gesel Mason ends her artist's residency tonight with a performance at the Buckman Performing and Fine Arts Center. Melinda Rodgers is at Isaac Hayes. Papa Top's West Coast Turnaround is at the P&H. As always on Friday nights, The Chris Scott Band is at Poplar Lounge. Exodus is at Automatic Slim's. And this being the last Friday of the month means that there's the South Main Trolley Art Tour, with free trolley rides up and down South Main Street and all of the galleries and shops are open. BUT, before you do that, by all means check out tonight's best art opening -- "Relics," photography by Monty Johnson, at the Greater Memphis Arts Council, now at 8 South Third Street. It's 4:30 to 7 p.m. and Johnson's first Memphis exhibit and well worth the visit. Be there or do nothing.
I've decided that when I make my vast fortune from the global sales of my Katharine Hepburn bobblehead doll, I am going to buy The Pyramid. I am doing this for a very specific reason: to make people act right. More specifically, to make them act right at Grizzlies games. Don't worry, Geoff, I am not becoming a sportswriter. I just want to point out the fact that a Grizzlies game is neither a cocktail party nor a butt-slapping fest -- not while the team is on the floor playing. I went to a game the other night and by the time it was over I had had to stand up and sit down again so many times for people who constantly got up to go chat and make cell-phone calls that I felt like a yo-yo. I know many of you think I'm already a yo-yo, and in many ways I am. Just the other morning I was washing dishes and came to the stark realization that I had served someone a drink the night before in a bud vase. And I just had a conversation with a friend about his one-eyed dog and a stuffed animal named Curly Bunny. And someone just told me about a guy who went to his psychiatrist in a deep depression because he weighed 400 pounds and 200 of those pounds were his testicles and the doctor told him there wasn't really anything to worry about, that he was just half nuts. Okay, okay, okay. So I still haven't decided what I want to be when I grow up. But never mind that. This is about respect. When the team is on the court running their hearts out and shooting for all its worth and trying to chase down the likes of Kobe Bryant or Steve Nash, it is not the time to yammer on your cell phone about your latest stock purchase or get up again and again to see and be seen. During the quarter breaks and at halftime, this is acceptable. It's still obnoxious, but it's acceptable. It's fine to go smoke and get a drink during halftime. In fact, it should be mandatory. But NOT while they are on the court playing. You are supposed to sit there and yell out sports phrases like "Kill that bastard" and only stand up to shout and cheer or yell threatening remarks at the referee. This is not rocket science. It is manners. It's respect. Who raised you people, anyway? I am in no way saying don't have fun. Because going to a Grizzlies game is really fun. Just go to watch the game. If you feel the need to peruse a crowd, save it for a late night at the Paris Adult Bookstore. When you're at a game and it is being played, sit and watch and scream about the game, not about your last date -- who, by the way, was probably not impressed. And here's the part that really makes me want to buy The Pyramid and not let anyone in except the Grizzlies, myself, a few close friends, and my new hero, Dairy Queen manager and Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban. We lost the last game I attended. Lost pretty badly. And it was apparent in the beginning of the third quarter that we were likely going to lose. Shane Battier had injured his hip and was out of the game and we were aaaay behind. So what did you people do? Got up and left. Just got up while the game was still under way and abandoned the team. Shuffled out to your SUVs -- in quite a lemming-like manner, I might add -- and hit the road. This is disgusting. Rude and repugnant. It's like walking away from a wounded soldier on the battlefield, leaving him there to bleed to death while you skip about your merry way. Leaving him there to have the vultures gnaw out his eyeballs while you head out for a scotch and water. Well, maybe that's being a tad melodramatic. But you are supposed to stay and scream and hope that during the last few minutes the team rallies and Jason Williams goes nuts and scores about 15 points in two minutes, and THEN, when the game is over, you leave, win or lose. So there, heathens. Show a little couth. In the meantime, here's a brief look at some of what's going on around town this week, and let me tell you, it's a bit slow. Tonight [Thursday, January 24th], Andy Grooms and Billy Hatcher are at the Lounge. (Remember Grooms & Kelly from the old days at Java Cabana? It's that Grooms. Should be fun.) I'm sure there's more, but I just don't know what that more would be.