Oprah is in town!

In a few days, the Opera House is turning in to the Oprah House and no doubt there will be some jumping on her couch, or at least on the audience seating. ‘People of Oz, look under your chairs and find…. Dr. Phil!! Well, at least his latest self-help guide! Yay! And no worries Australia, I’m not gay! She’s GAYLE, my bestie, and I love her, but not like that. So, clap your hands and let’s be gay. Merry, I mean. Merry Christmas, everybody!’

I’m sure Oprah is a savior for some people, but I’m not a tiny bit sorry that we were in the Opera House yesterday and didn’t find keys to a brand new Volkswagen Beetle under our chairs (okay, yes, that would have been nice). Instead, we were under the spell of the mesmerizing Sydney Philharmonia Choirs performing Händel’s Messiah. Beyond beautiful.

And wow! We even know one of the choirists! Elna, you are my Oprah. I don’t expect you to give me hot wheels or tell me that I can do and become anything I desire in life… Hmm, now that I think of it: you are an editor! And you sing the Messiah! I want to be you! Please be my Oprah and pep-talk me… I know you’re busy this weekend (three more Opera’s to go?) but maybe we can plan a barbie next week?

I’m sure you would love that after reading this piece. Promise: I will not stalk you… but can I have your autograph? Tattooed on my finger? Then you could be my Oprah. And I would be your Gayle.