Getting Two Is a Trial : Quest for opening-night seats goes on and on and . . .

It all started over a Cobb salad at the Balboa Bay Club in Newport Beach. Bonnie and I were having our usual (without the avocado), with the usual talk (my impending divorce and her last date), when the subject of the Performing Arts Center came up. On that particular day, the notion of an arts center in Orange County intrigued us even more than my departing husband’s last words or Bonnie’s previous evening.

As record-holders for multiple viewings of musicals (I hold the title for “Pippin,” Bonnie for “A Chorus Line”), we found exciting the thought of having musicals, concerts, opera, ballet and all manner of live performances a mere 10 minutes’ drive away.

We figured that celebrating the center’s opening would be a once-in-a-lifetime joy. With 3,000 seats in the theater, surely there would be room for us.

How naive! Good intentions, coupled with a love of the arts, do not necessarily get you a ticket. That lunch took place more than two years ago, in the innocent days before we knew how many high-rolling arts lovers there were in Orange County.

Certainly we didn’t expect to find opening-night tickets at Ticketron. Logic dictated that those who helped build the center would be the chosen ones.

Back then, I figured that helping the center was a fine idea anyway. So I set about looking for a guild to join. I knew about the guilds because I had already sipped margaritas at the Cabaret chapter’s Cinco de Mayo festival.

The Cabaret chapter was among the community guilds formed to raise funds for the center. Some guilds had a broad membership base, others a narrow one. The South Pacific chapter, for example, consisted of female bridge players only. Something for everyone.

The Cabaret chapter took in persons of both sexes, primarily of the younger, unattached variety. Perhaps I was too close to divorce to appreciate Cabaret. At Cinco de Mayo, it seemed as though all the singles bars in the county had emptied onto Lido Plaza for a night.

On a friend’s recommendation, I joined the Sound of Music chapter. Composed mainly of coastal socialites, Sound of Music looked like the magazine Newport Beach (714) come to life. My problem with Sound of Music was the morning meetings. Given my work schedule, active membership would have been impossible.

So I moved on to the other center support groups.

One support group, Angels of the Arts, raised funds through a $10,000 initiation fee (that amount was raised to $12,500 last year) and substantial annual dues. That group was easy for me to eliminate. I’m no angel--at least not one with $10,000 or more to donate.

I joined the Center 500, designated for young professionals. But I soon learned that the group’s chances of getting in were pretty slim. The center’s opening-night committee, which determines who gets into the big event, declared the opening night a fund-raiser and gave none but major donors the opportunity to warm the center seats on Sept. 29.

Here’s how it works: Center Founders and $10,000 donors had the option to buy two tickets; $50,000 donors, four; $100,000 donors, six, and $1 million-plus donors, eight.

The first invitational letter went out to donors in May. For a price, according to Henry Segerstrom, chairman of the center trustees, a donor could enjoy Zubin Mehta and the Los Angeles Philharmonic, then attend an “unforgettable” post-performance gala.

That price was $2,000 per ticket, or $1,000 if one didn’t mind a view from the rear of the theater. For dollar-wise donors, leftovers would be clearance-priced at $250 and $500.

Although Segerstrom wrote that “we do not expect the entire theater will be subscribed” at $1,000 and $2,000 levels, he warned that “we have no way of guaranteeing the availability of tickets” after the first rights of priority have been exercised.

Immediately, 680 donors purchased the four-figure seats, according to Jim Feichtmann, special projects administrator. Donors who waited had 1,820 seats left to divvy up at all four price levels (91 seats were removed to accommodate the orchestra; 409 were reserved for the press and assorted VIPs).

Support groups were next in line, but opening-night committee chairman Gary Hunt said he doubted that any tickets would be available. As far as I could see, I seemed as likely to go to opening night as to ascend the podium should Zubin Mehta get caught in traffic en route.

Suddenly, 3,000 turned out to be a small number of seats.

For all us guild and group members who missed the $10,000 mark, the center has designated “opening season” events. The Guilds get Leontyne Price; other support groups, Isaac Stern. Not exactly opening night, Henry, but a nice try.

Still, I decided not to give up hope. Perhaps a major donor needed a date for opening night.

A chance, though a razor-slim one. When I wrote a story a few years ago in a local newspaper about the center’s $50,000-and-up donors, I noticed precious few bachelors in the bunch.

So the day my friend Rudy (Note: rich friend Rudy) asked me if I knew how he could contribute to the center, my eyes glazed over. But he still hasn’t written a check. Unfortunately, undecided.

I next queried my editor for this very article about a press pass. As it turned out, she wasn’t 100% certain that she would be invited.

Two women friends, Randy and Nancy, suggested the classifieds. “Wanted: opening-night tickets at almost any price. Three women promise to make your gala truly unforgettable.”

Now when I think back to my Cobb salad days, I am amazed that I ever believed that the humble masses, rather than only wealthy patrons of the arts, could celebrate opening night. (Bonnie and I had apparently forgotten that Cinderella needed a fairy godmother to go to the ball.)

I am also amazed at the turnout of arts supporters in the community. That is not to say I’m disappointed. On the contrary. The enthusiastic backing of Orange County made the center possible, and I’m looking forward to the Leontyne Prices and the Isaac Sterns--not to mention the possibility of seeing “Pippin.”

I may go to opening night yet.

There could be a bachelor donor reading this very article, one who yearns for an opening-night date capable of singing “Camelot” (the entire score) just slightly off-key.

Dateless Big Spenders may address inquiries to the Center Stage editor, Los Angeles Times.