If I dressed better and lived in a real place, I'd be an arts snob. I'd go to the theaTAH every night. I'd buy elbow-length gloves, even if they don't go with the holey jeans and They Might Be Giants tee. See, I dig classical music. Adore choral performance. And love, love, LOVE opera�the grander the better.

Opera's got everything: rape, incest, dwarves, devils, magic, murder, race riots, dwarves, war, pestilence, damnation, dwarves, matricide, fratricide, you name it. Even dwarves. And until recently, a fat chick could be reasonably assured of a long and vibrant career. Smack on a Xena breastplate, sweetie, grab a spear and come on! This is where the REAL divas are � forget those overproduced MTV wannabes: a juicy belch from Maria Callas sounds better than Mariah Carey's finest squeals. Jessye Norman could put Beyonc� on a cracker with pimento cheese for a somewhat tasty hors d'oeuvre and still be hungry.

Going to the orchestra is great, too. The people I sit by don't think so, because I chair dance. I sway to the violins like a cobra in an Indian basket. Bring in the brass and and my feet start swinging. Get the tympani going and it's a mosh pit time. And since every high-falutin' arts org needs a philistine like me to keep them grounded, I'm on the board of the local symphony. While I do make my fellow directors feel secure in their crusty superiority, they have to put up with blurted profundities like, "there's always room for cello!" Oh, the hilarity.

Yep, I'm an arts fan, and the finer the better. Except for ballet. I seriously do not get ballet.What is the appeal of a spinning stick insect in a poofy skirt? Watch the anorexics leap! See the bulimics twirl! And then the boys come in with codpieces to shame Siegfried and Roy, filled with more stuffing than the Cratchits' Christmas goose. What's with the hide-a-bed nad pads? Do they fold out for extra guest seating? If your family jewels were Hope diamonds they wouldn't need that much security. Anyway, it all looks like waterless synchronized swimming, sans enameled hair and Leona Helmsley grins.

Have an aria. Take two � they're small. But leave your tutu at home.