I’m not a fan of events that turn the stages of great theaters into makeshift seating areas for productions so small they clearly belong somewhere else, like a nightclub.

It smacks of desperation.

As for dubious recorded preshow and intermission pop music issuing from big speakers in a grand opera house?

A desecration.

A curtain strung shower-stall-style across the front of the stage to block the jaw-dropping view behind it and provide a backdrop for the little show?

Tacky.

Seeing the vast Lyric Opera lobby and auditorium devoid of their usual festive throng of 3,600 revelers, dressed to the nines and in just the right state of aria-and-alcohol-induced intoxication?

Creepy, and depressing.

So how did it happen that I had a wonderful time at the Second City Guide to the Opera, which has done all those dastardly things to the opera house, where it runs through June 30?