After several years of redecorating and organ practice, I, the Phantom of the Opera, have returned to some all-too-familiar haunting grounds – Chicago. And with a ten-week stint at the Cadillac Palace Theatre, I will remind the White City why I’ve thrived so many years.

Unlike recent famous masked men, my mask doesn’t need to stand for noble ideas, for principles and beliefs that topple regimes and inspire the masses. My mask stands for an even nobler cause: pure, unrestrained vanity, in the vainest of forms. What else can ignite the heart of man more than a tug at the strings of his physical insecurities?

But alas, my vanity is well-fed. My escapades in my show have earned an estimated $3.2 billion in ticket sales, according to my official Web site. My show is the longest running in Broadway history, finally toppling my great rival Cats in the middle of last year.

As proof I can still go toe-to-toe with the big boys, I recently began operations in Las Vegas, in a 95-minute condensed performance complete with Technicolor Dreammask and a physique only afforded by complete isolation within the sewers of Paris. Phantom: The Las Vegas Spectacular bests those blue men as the Venetian’s classiest show, with easily more chandelier-crashing sequences, and at least more laughs than Wayne Brady’s show.

In the Chicago run, I am played by John Cudia, my love Christine is played by Sara Jean Ford, and the cause of my agony Raoul is played by Greg Mills.

Though I have been round the world and back again, time will show that unlike witches, cats and men from New Jersey, a Phantom lives forever.

Sincerely, “The Opera Ghost”

The Phantom of the Opera runs until Jan. 2 at the Cadillac Palace Theatre, 151 W. Randolph St., with tickets starting at $30.

-Steven Berger