November 19, 2006
Stifling the Laughter
Five down, one more high school variety show to go.
For the past five years, I have attended the v-shows at my old high school in support of my ridiculously-talented step daughters. The experience has been, for the most part, painful, when not outright hilarious.
Having been something of a piano prodigy myself, back in the day, and being used to the multi-instrumental talent of both step daughters (piano, guitar, bass, trumpet, horn, bottle), a lot of the musical acts just make me cringe. And I know it's completely unfair because they're just high school kids and blah blah blah, but I don't care. It's not like you people come here for diplomacy and decorum!
Mind you, I'm careful not to vocalize my disdain -- or laughter -- while actually at the show because I don't want some ematiated soccer mom to beat me to death with her Kate Spade tote. But here, I can make all the rude comments I want because it's my blog, and I'm well out-of-reach of tasteful, over-priced accessories.
Younger Step Daughter is in the stage band, and stage band rocks. Stage band always rocks. I should know. I used to date the stage band, back in the day.
The first act was a three-man band covering a Jimi Hendrix song. Now, I have kind of a problem with a high school band covering the great Jimi Hendrix. It's fine in the privacy of Tyler's mom's garage, but don't bring that shit out in public. You wanna cover someone? Do Smashing Pumpkins or Bon Jovi. Leave the greats alone, at least until your other testicle drops.
The lead singer was so tiny, he was practically insertable. With stick-straight, platinum blonde hair that covered his eyes. To hear the words, "'Scuse me while I kiss this guy," come out of his mouth was so incongruous, it made me giggle.
Every year that I've gone, there has been a big string ensemble, and while the words string ensemble make most people cringe, I always enjoy this act. First of all, they're good, and secondly, they're not playing boring, classical stuff. This year, they did an arrangement of "Eleanor Rigby." Kewl.
And then my little bubble of contentment was destroyed by an emo trio that had me searching my purse for something sharp before they even got through the first verse. Something about ashes and a single mom and a drunken dad and "poverty smells like pity and cheap wine." Ugh.
I'm sure his parents were squirming in their seats, smiling uncomfortably to the people sitting next to them, "Um, yeah, hi, uh... we're not really abusive. Or poor. Or dead."
You know how you get that tickle in the back of your throat that feels like a hot pin-prick, and it makes your whole throat tickle, and the painful heat spreads until your eyes are watering and your nose is running, and then you cough for an hour trying to get rid of it?
Yeah. I got one of those. During the piano solo. Quietest act there is, and I have to cough up a goat. I felt like such an asshole. I was convulsing and choking, trying to keep from coughing, but then I'd just bark even louder. It was horrible. That poor girl. I'm sure she heard me.
I wanted to leave, but the seats in that theatre were made back in the sixties, when people were smaller. Everyone's knees were pressed against the chair in front of them, so I couldn't get out without walking on their heads Crocodile Dundee style.
Then there were two musical acts playing original music they had written themselves. One was an electric violin instrumental, and one was a cute, little diddy called "Eyes Wide Open." They were both very good, and they drowned out my coughing a little better than the piano solo. Three Ricolas later, I was still at it.
And then, the low point of the show. "Campaign for Action." Yes, it was as bad as it sounds. Traditionally, the first act of the show always ended with the varsity cheerleaders. Traditionally, there was no "senior act." But everything changes, as did my will to live when I was forced to witness this tripe.
It was some angsty song about, "I have a soul, but I'm not a soldier." I don't even know what that's supposed to mean. Meanwhile, pictures of little kids with distended bellies and flies on their heads alternated on a movie screen with slogans like, "100 million people don't have clean water."
Now, don't get me wrong. It's nice that these kids care enough about world hunger to... perform a song about it. And I'm not blind to the suffering of others. I just don't go to a freakin' high school variety show to be preached to by a bunch of kids who don't know how to balance a checkbook or wash their own clothes or solve their own problems, let alone the world's.
As soon as the lights went up for intermission, Husband was like, "Let's go home."
I felt bad about the cough-attack and certainly didn't want to continue to piss off everyone in the theatre, but I don't think Husband was too upset about missing the rest of the show.
I mean, it would've been nice to see Younger Step Daughter do the second stage band song. And I missed the varsity cheerleaders and the percussion ensemble...
Oh, look -- I'm over it.
Comments
Posted by: CelticElff at November 20, 2006 08:05 AM