By Bob Gaydos

Took a break from the daily grind recently to visit the make-believe world of Gilbert and Sullivan in a thoroughly entertaining production of The Mikado presented by the Delaware Valley Opera. They were all there and in fine voice: KoKo, the Lord High Executioner, with an aversion to, among other things, executions; Poo-bah, the malleable Lord High Everything Else; Yum-Yum, the lovely desired one; handsome Nanki-Poo, the root of all the trouble, and, of course, The Mikado of Japan..

The comic opera, a satire on 18th century British government set for no good reason in Japan, adapted easily to modern day institutions and situations. It played to an enthusiastic full house of other music lovers also apparently seeking to escape the daily grind. Everyone left apparently satisfied, including the winner of the drawing for the fifty-fifty, and we exited the music hall to gaze upon beautiful Lake Huntington.

It was all make believe, but it was also reality. Two wonderful hours worth. But now we were back in reality, which was, it soon reminded us, totally make believe.

Yes, we’re living in a land of make-believe. Mitch McConnell’s staff is making believe the senator is alive and, if not well, certainly recovering from whatever mysterious ailment has caused him to be absent from the Senate for more than a month. Republicans in the Senate are making believe they believe that story.

Andy Beshear is making believe he’s Kentucky’s governor by yammering about McConnell’s absence and refusal of his staff to make the senator available in person to at least prove he’s not brain dead, if not totally dead. Beshear is making believe he doesn’t have an entire National Guard — never mind various laws — at his disposal to either force McConnell to come out of hiding or rise from the dead or to kick down the senator’s front door to see whatever is going on behind it because the people of Kentucky are entitled to two living working senators. And the governor is entitled to appoint a temporary replacement for McConnell and set a special election for the post, even though Fox News personalities and some Republicans in Congress have told make-believe stories that they had 10-minute conversations with the AWOL McConnell.

Then there’s the secretary of health making believe Americans aren’t suffering from measles and diarrhea in frightening numbers. There’s the drunken “war” secretary making believe America is winning a war that he and his Mikado started but can’t figure out how to get out of as they make up lower American casualty numbers. And, of course, there’s the daily make believe, fed by make-believe journalists, that the American Mikado, who goes by the name of Trump, is actually capable of anything at this point (when he can stay awake) other than belittling women, insulting our allies, thinking of new ways to scam true believers out of their money and finding new Poo-Bahs to try to keep him out of jail.

It’s all make believe, but without the booming baritones and soaring sopranos. No lively chorus either and no funny Lord High Executioner. No lovely lake. Sorry, no fifty-fifty.

It’s funny how make-believe can sometimes seem so real.

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Note: The Delaware Valley Opera is a not-for-profit (they love what they do) professional local organization located in Sullivan County in upstate New York. It draws its members and performers locally and from the New York Metropolitan area. I am in no way qualified as a music or theater critic, however, I would like to give special recognition in the recent production to Andrew Wannigmann as Pooh-Bah, Margaux Frohlich as Yum-Yum and Nicholas Wuehrmann, as a hilarious Ko-Ko, Lord High Executioner.  And a special nod to the one-man orchestra, Martin Yadzik, pianist and music director. Again, it was all wonderful and all for real.

By Bob Gaydos

I was privileged recently to enjoy a local opera company’s production of “Faust,” by Charles Gounod. Based on Goethe’s legendary German tale, this is no easy opera to tackle and the Hudson Opera Theatre in Middletown, N.Y., more than did it justice.

I also came away from the production with a renewed awareness of what a cad Faust was. Or was he a rake? A rapscallion perhaps? Good words all, and yet each with a slightly different take on what kind of scoundrel the opera’s title character was. They are also words that, unfortunately, have pretty much disappeared from use in American conversation.

What would Faust be called today, in everyday American English? I wondered. Hmm, a disillusioned old man, a scholar no less, who makes a deal with the Devil to provide Faust with youth and the unquestioning love, adoration and physical pleasures of young women. In return, Faust agrees to give his soul to the Devil forever, in Hell. Faust even identifies the object of his desires — a young, teenaged virgin, Marguerite, who is impressed with his seeming sophistication and his attention to her — and the Devil helps him woo and win her with a dazzling array of jewels. In the process of his “conquest,” Faust gives the girl a sleeping potion (provided by the Devil) to give to her mother so that she will not disturb their night of, let’s call it love-making. The potion kills the mother, leaving Marguerite guilt-racked and further vulnerable to the attentions of Faust, who promptly abandons her.

Long story short: Marguerite gets pregnant, is ostracized by a society that doesn’t look kindly on young, unmarried mothers and is brutally condemned by her brother, a soldier returned from the wars. In utter depression, with nowhere seemingly to turn, she kills her baby, is arrested, thrown in prison and condemned to death. At this point, Faust, the lout, returns with an offer to help her escape (again, courtesy of the Devil).

Clearly, the man is an a–hole.

At least, that’s what he’d be called today, I concluded. That’s it. One overused obscenity providing not the slightest clue as to the true nature of the man’s churlish behavior. It seems to me that when words lose their precision they eventually lose their meaning. Communication gets fuzzy. And so, Congress is a bunch of a___s. The president is an a____. The guy who cut me off in traffic is an a____. My boss is an a______. My brother-in-law is a flaming a______. Rush Limbaugh is an a______. (Well, sometimes it works.)

In the spirit of the late Bill Safire, I have compiled a list of words that could be used — once upon a time were used — to describe men of questionable, if not dubious, character. You may have noticed a few sprinkled throughout this piece. In the process, I have become impressed with the diversity of choices the English language once offered to describe insensitive blaggards like Faust.

There’s a good one. Blaggard, or blackguard. It’s derived from

Old English usage, meaning a “black-hearted” person. Like Faust. It can mean a villain, a rogue (another rarely used good word), an evil person or someone with dubious morals. Faust personified.

Let’s go back to “cad.” It is defined in one dictionary as “an ill-bred man, especially one who behaves in a dishonorable or irresponsible way toward women.” Perfect.

For the record, my list thus far includes: scoundrel; wastrel; ne’er-do-well; rogue; cad; lout; laggard; reprobate; scalawag; rapscallion; rascal; bounder; oaf; blackguard; boor; and dolt

The French, of course, always have a word for anything. In this case, considering it’s a French opera, the perfect word for Faust is roue. A roue is defined as a dissolute person. That is, someone devoid of most moral value, especially one who places values on sensual pleasures. Think Michael Caine in “Alfie” and Warren Beatty in “Shampoo.” Matthew Mcconaughey in most anything today. The word roue comes from rouer, meaning to break on the wheel, the feeling being that such a person deserves to be punished in this manner.

A roue is the French version of a favorite of mine, a rake, which leads to the exquisite lothario and libertine and, eventually, to perhaps the one commonly used modern word that accurately fits the young-teenager-loving Faust: lech.

I’m open to further suggestions for my list. Indeed, if we weren’t such a nation of language lay-abouts and if we weren’t in such apparent denial about the variety of villains in society today, we could revive some of these perfectly usable and descriptive words. And we could give the A-word a much-needed rest.

bob@zestoforange.com