Its spring which means suddenly the Wife and I are busy again. We do not purposely stay in, quietly hibernating through the winter. Yet it seems every year when the days are short and its cold outside we find ourselves hunkering down like snowed-in Eskimos. Hmmm, actually I’m no Eskimo expert. I really have no clue if Eskimos hunker or if they ever even get snowed in. I mean, they are Eskimos. They should be well practiced in dealing with snow. I would think if you’re an Eskimo, a few feet of snow won’t stop you from venturing out to the corner Igloo Bar for blubber and fries with a couple of frozen margaritas.
Ooooooooh. I have a hunch that might all be racially insensitive to Eskimos. I would never want to be tagged as anti-Eskimo. Just in case I said something wrong, my apologies to all my Eskimo readers. I will be going Eskimo-free the rest of this blog entry and leave it simply that Eskimos most certainly must be able to better deal with snow then then the folks where I live. Not that I am implying anything near-slur like about Texans either… its just that they are freakshows when it snows. Here in Dallas, if there is an 1/8 inch of accumulated flurries they shut down the schools, people run around outside taking Instagram/Facebook pictures and the local news crews preempt regular programming with highway-side nonstop live coverage because the streets start looking like a Demolition Derby for members of the American Council For The Blind. No wonder my wife and I hide inside all winter.
But all Eskimos aside, my point is that its officially Spring and as usual The Wife and I are suddenly finding our little world is getting busy again. Like this past week, it just kind of accidentally worked out that we had tickets to three different shows. It was strange to observe how wildly different the audiences were at each.
At the well-rehearsed, but very funny, Steve Martin/ Martin Short show, the crowd was a bit older. Okay, more than a ‘bit’. There was more grey hair in the theater then on a Luby’s cafeteria line at 5:00PM on AARP coupon night. The well-mannered crowd was seated early and did not move around much. I assume it was because most couldn’t. Half of them had canes or walkers and the other half should have. The only folks getting up mid-show were the bathroom bound older men whose prostates had likely grown to the size of Abe Vigoda’s head.
The only exception was the annoying younger (by this crowd’s median age) woman in her own little world right behind us who found it necessary to comment and talk back to the performers on the stage throughout the show. She got up several times and found multiple ways to pull my wife’s hair each time she shoved herself past the seated geriatrics as she pushed herself towards the aisle. Medical, or any other, marijuana is not legal in Texas but based on her behavior she might have just come back from a road trip to Colorado with an ample buzz and bad case of munchies.
That audience was in direct contrast to the raucous crowd at Kinky Boots, the Harvey Fierstein/Cyndi Lauper Broadway musical we saw about a young but stogy Brit who inherits a shoe factory and the bold drag queen that inadvertently inspires his idea to save the factory by producing quality footwear for outrageous cross dressers. Ooops… sorry… hope I did not give too much away there. Its not like I told you the Jews leave town at the end of Fiddler On The Roof , Tony dies in West Side Story and Springtime For Hitler is a surprise hit in The Producers… oh yeah, and if you are devoutly religiously, keep in mind that The Book Of Mormon is not a Passion Play. You can thank me later; now you don’t have to bother going to the theater and can hunker down (unlike an Eskimo) all winter.
It was a very mixed crowd that at times looked like a gay pride parade marching through an older wall street brokerage firm’s office. As the wackiness ensued on the stage, the crowd was standing and clapping, all hootin’ and hollering like they were getting their soul saved by a hallelujah screamin’ southern preacher in a Mississippi revival tent. This was not an old fashioned ‘going to the the-atre’ with grand-mum-ma audience. This was a Sesame Street raised A.D.D. fast based modern theater experience where audiences yell and clap along like they are at a rock concert. All I could imagine was seeing Hamilton-like crowd reactions at South Pacific. Yo, I’m gonna wash that Busta right outta ma hair, fasho’.
The other show we attended last week was bawdy insult comedian Lisa Lampanelli. The folks there skewed fairly young, mostly female and very rowdy. A large percentage of the crowd made multiple trips to the lobby bars. Heckling was certainly not limited to a couple of clones of the old men in the Muppet Show balcony there. It was pretty much a ongoing free-for-all dialog between the audience and performer and that interaction was almost integral to show’s success.
The odd thing is, My wife and I seamlessly fit into all three of the different audience types. There was not one we felt more comfortable in over the others. I think that is a component of both our personality types that, like a sociologist in a deep cultural study, we seem to adapt to, blend in and enjoy many different situations. There are fears and downfalls to that but overall I think it is a good thing. At a minimum it gets us out of the igloo.