Listening to Pavarotti always makes me a little mad inside - I was a member of a touring choir for several years. One summer, we went to England, Wales, and Scotland. Our first day in London, we were outside some ritzy hotel where Pavarotti was singing for whatever ritzy company tea or recognition thing was going on up there. Our tour director talked to somebody in the hotel, and was told after he was finished, he would come outside to sing for us and meet us - a choir of young teenage hellions from Alaska. Long story short, our cranky old tour director waited outside for about half an hour and then decided she was tired of waiting, so she dragged us back to the subway, probably back to our hotel. We missed the greatest of the four tenors for that woman. I've never forgotten it, and I'm still mad.

^OMG, that is terrible, LittleRed! I imagine I would be quite bitter about that too, good Lord! GRRRR!