I’m not saying that Vicki Lawrence is a better singer than Reba McEntire – good Lord, no. What I am saying is that Vicki’s original 1972 version of “The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia” has a catchier earworm of a hook, as compared to Reba’s version from 1991. That’s all. I mean, judge for yourself.
And then…
We had been planning this for a while, taking the kid to see HAMILTON on Broadway. It’s her favorite musical – she has the sound track memorized, and we’ve watched the Disney+ filmed musical performance like a hundred times. We had the opportunity to take her to other shows, but we knew HAMILTON was the only “first” show she could have AND we wanted to wait until she was old enough to appreciate what “seeing a Broadway show” really meant.
Ans last week, was the right time. (If I might add, the middle of the week HAMILTON cast, with a couple of understudies that went on, was great!) The kid was excited, we made a whole evening out of it with dinner before, and souvenirs when we got to the theatre. The kid was bouncing in her seat when the lights started to dim, mouthed along to the songs that she loves, and, though she said she wouldn’t because she knows the show too well, cried like all of us at the end of the show.
I would love to flatter myself and say that this was a life changing moment, or one of the core moments of her life, but I can’t say that; only she can – and it might still be years before she would say anything like that to me. No, I just provided a platform, and I hope that it inspires or encourages her in some way.
For me, it was a very big deal. I don’t do a lot of Broadway. Not that I have an issue with it, but my theatrical heart lies Off-Off-Off Broadway, in the little weird and small houses that play strange and experimental shows. I have taken the kid to see those (mainly quirky puppet shows that friends of mine do) so she knows that world of theatre. Now, after having seen a big, huge, famous show on Broadway, I think the kid has been exposed to both ends of the theatre spectrum.
And I think that’s my job as a parent – helping the kid experience things, and see as much different art as possible. I’m not expecting her to go into the arts, and if she doesn’t, that’s fine. But art and storytelling are important, and can lead to a better understanding of the world around you. Especially when it comes to understanding that we are all the same. We all love, we all hurt, we all give, and we all take.
I had no idea when I first played Super Mario Bros. at Richard Nettles house, almost forty years ago, that this little theme song would still be bouncing around my head.
The theme song to N.A.R.C. is a close second.
It’s the sax hook of this song that gets stuck in my head. Other than that, I think this is a good song, because WHAM! was fun, damn it!
Because in the 80’s, there were a ton of sexy saxophones out there.
Remember this guy?
And sexy Rob Lowe with his sax; St. Elmo’s Fire style!
(Three is a magic number…)
Fractions suck. They have sucked since I was first introduced to them back in 5th grade, and to this day, they are still sucking away. I know that their suckage has continued because my daughter came home with math homework that was nothing but stupid word problem fraction questions. “It takes 1 3/4 cups of flour to make a batch of cookies. Dave wants to make 4 1/8 batches of cookies. If Dave has 8 2/3 cups of flour, how much flour will he have left over after he bakes his cookies?” Honestly, who gives a shit. Why aren’t they teaching kids to convert the fractions to decimals, because the world runs on decimals. Lucky for the kid, she didn’t inherit her father’s useless mathematical mind, and at least can handle it better that I did.
This morning, as I was waking up the kid, and getting breakfast started, a memory shock-shot into my head. I returned to being four or five years old, sitting at the kitchen table eating Franken Berry cereal, watching my mother in her old yellow robe whisk and glide around the kitchen make school lunches for my brothers. There was a radio on top of the refrigerator that was playing “Fun, Fun, Fun.” I was trying to follow the lyric, but was confused. “What’s a T-bird?” I asked my mom. “It’s a car,” she said. “Why does the dad take it away?” “She got in trouble.” This was all confusing to me.
I’m addicted to my phone, and it’s becoming a problem. Sure, a little of it has to do with doom scrolling because of all the news of late. Yet, I know that I am spending too much time on my phone. I lost a half hour just now, looking a videos of people signing about how awful musical theatre is. Like, I need to wrap up my writing this morning, and get to my chores… but I had to see if there were any new ICE videos. Now I feel like I am behind, and the day is slipping away. I have to put it down. I have to stop. I have to do better and more constructive things with my time. Like come up with a good button to end this piece…
