Grousing a Little

Parents do a lot of thankless things for their kids. It starts with poop-filled diapers and carries right on through until the time they leave home. (Possibly beyond, but I can't think that far ahead. Note to self: ask Dame Judi). Among those thankless tasks performing taxi service ranks high...especially when in the midst of preparing for a particular event like, say, oh...the spring musical.

I am soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo over this and the show hasn't even gone up yet (opening night is Thursday). Tonight, for example, rehearsal goes until 8. That's right, 8 in the p.m. Which means for the second week straight The Spouse and I are eating without her, I have to leave the house during prime TV viewing time to fetch her and then feed her warmed up whatever-we're-having (tonight it's lamb chops with gremolata and white beans because that sounds very spring-y to me). Tuesday and Wednesday she rehearses until 6pm (only slightly better) and then there's the the whole picking her up AFTER the show. (Although, to be fair, I only have to do that 2 nights because other people are helping out).

I swear, if that child ever wins a Tony or an Oscar she had damn well better than thank her mother, "without whom I wouldn't be here...at all".

My New Theme Song

Because every girl should have a theme song.

Fetch me my Jimmy Choo flip flops. Hysterical.

High School Musical II:Live Blog

10:00pm
And now we're wrapping it up with a rock and roll style number called "All for One". How do the girls all know the words and dance moves?

Final thoughts:

Spouse: I liked it.

Jane: I saw growth in the characters and I saw experience in their eyes and I feel like I'm a better person. I just wish I'd been in that movie.

Molly: It's basically INcredible and when they do it on Broadway, I am coming and throwing things on the stage which may be inappropriate.

Child: Speechless. It's the best one yet.

(The Spouse and I don't necessarily think that but it wasn't dialed in and they obviously put effort into it. On the other hand, the whole Troy/Gabby breaking up thing did get to at least 50% of the crowd. Very dramatic in a classic musical sort of way).

I certainly can think of worse ways to spend a Friday evening.

9:58pm
Excellent. "Every Day"...big number during which, of course, Troy and Gabriella get back together.

And when it was all over, we were finally rewarded with the big Kiss. Then a 2nd. Then a 3rd. There was a lot of screaming.

9:44pm

Big finish, big talent show scene. We're almost done. I'm going to totally immerse myself in the fabulousness of the finale and then I'll be back to recap. Because the crickets care.

9:40pm
"Bet on It"...Troy's big "I'm such a tool and I've lost everything I care about just to get a big schmantzy scholarship so maybe I'd better pull my head out of my arse and stand up for myself" song.

Molly finds his dance moves a bit contrived.

It's totally working for Jane and The Child. Well, until he sang to his reflection in a pool. Yeah, that was bad.

He's redeeming himself in this last verse. Kinda "Footloose".

Molly: "Horrendous".

Jane: "Horrendously fabulous".

9:35pm

"I've Got to Go My Own Way": major drama and devastation: Gabriella breaks up with Troy. Totally awesome song.

And Jane is totally bawling.

9:25pm

Chad just gave Troy a blistering what for.

Troy showed up to rehearse with Sharpay, to a tarted up version of "You Are the Music in Me". She had a big puffy pink tulle train thing hanging off the back of her short skirt. I said, "She's got pink stuff hanging off her butt".

"Tulle" replied The Child.

"Yes, he is a tool," said The Spouse, who, since the baseball number is totally on board.

Also, we actually got our first literal reference to "Grease". I'm so right about everything.

The Child: "I need to see some sort of action between some sort of couple sooner or later".

I'm looking into boarding schools.

9:11pm
"I Don't Dance"...The Spouse is over his "meh"...we've got singing and dancing during a baseball game. (National League rules...no designated hitter). This is a great number.

More to the point, Sharpay's brother, Ryan, who's been dissed by S once to often, is poised to help the employees develop a number for the big club talent show. Sharpay has basically coerced Troy to sing with her. Who do we think will win?

Seriously, this baseball number is hot.

9:02pm

Sharpay dumps a bucket of pink golf balls in front of new golf pro Troy. "Nice balls," he says.

Nieces laughed in a way that they should be ashamed of. I'll speak to them later.

Also, Troy is totally being bought by Sharpay's parents and so far he's totally clueless. In fact, he just rudely told his best friend, "I ordered Swiss on my burger". The gang is on to him. We're so heading into the big climactic conflicty moment thing.

8:54pm

The Spouse says, "Meh". Then we all yelled at him because he missed at least 2 big numbers. Hello. Shut up and watch the movie, dude.

Jane: I'm feeling the start of something new with Troy and I.

Molly: I'm pretty sure that Ashley Tisdale is the meanest girl in the world. And Corbin Blue's hair is amazing.

(She doesn't think someone can play mean as well as Tisdale is without having some serious evil of her own. The adults disagree).

Child: I'm feeling the start of something new with Corbin and I.

8:50pM
Massive manipulation by Sharpay results in Troy being an hour late for a date with Gabbie. But all is well, what with her not being the least bit jealous or possessive. Ahhh...a moonlight swim...frolicking...he moves in for a kiss....ARGH!!!! (say all the girls). Gabriella gets busted for being in the pool (off limits to employees). She's got 2 strikes now. Of course, Troy doesn't get in trouble. In fact, he just got a promotion.

Crap! $500/week plus tips. I want that gig.

The Child is upset. We've just entered our 2nd commercial break. She thinks that's too many.

8:43pm
Sharpay is wearing a tiara while golfing. Right frakking on!

8:41pm

Sharpay's code name: Golden Throat.

Ryan's code name: Jazz Square

Just had another big number, "The Music in Me", which I will likely subject you to tomorrow. Big duet between Troy and Gabbie. (No one else calls her that, but I do). It was hot. The audience was fawning.

And I wonder, a) am I doing this right? and 2) where is Sling? He was bringing beer.

8:28pm
The Crowd Reacts

Jane: Love. It. Troy Bolton makes me ovulate.

Molly: Why isn't my life a musical? And Troy Bolton makes me ovulate.

Child: What does ovulate mean?

8:21pm
Twenty minutes in and we're already on our 3rd musical number. "Fabulous"...a little Busby Berkeley style number wherein Sharpay reveals the depths of her shallowness and now "Work It Out", as the rest of the cast guts up for their menial summer jobs.

Here's the deal so far: Sharpay's parents own the country club. She arranges for Troy to be hired. But Troy would only take the job if all his friends got jobs, too. Because that's how it works in the real world. (Wait...musical theatuh...Perfect!) Sharpay wants the manager to make everyone else miserable so they'll quit...leaving Troy all to herself. Yeah, that's gonna happen.

Troy just threw grapes in Gabriella's face. It was cute. Ooh, she's down on the green... he picks her up...they are about to kiss and someone turns on the irrigation.

Does it ruin the moment? Well, there's no kissing but they dance in the sprinklers.

Cute.


8:10pm

The opening number ("What Time is It") was great...beginning where we left off, musically speaking...with a big song and dance number that involved the entire school celebrating the arrival of summer vacation.

Ooh, Troy just gave Gabriella a beautiful necklace. They've tried to kiss. Twice.

I hate when that happens.

At least they are holding hands.

Ooh, the first complication reveals itself...Sharpay is not down with the whole Gabriella/Troy thing. Scheming biatch alert!

8:00pm

The countdown is over. Picture it: 3 screaming girls. We open on a clock, counting down to 2 pm. And no, I am not going to give you a play by play. I'll be back at the first commercial.

Pre-Game Show

The niece are here. It wasn't easy. Niece 1, Jane Austen, had her car die at Starbucks. In Kirkland. East of here. Niece 2, the raving Molly, got as far as Renton, south of here, when her folks' car overheated.

So Sis and BIL waited for their car to cool down while I went to fetch Jane. They had arrived at our place by the time we returned. (Hi, I averaged 10mph on 520...you Seattleites will appreciate that). Then, fabulous parents that they are, they drove to Kirkland to see if they could get Jane's car running. They did. They should be here any minute.

We've stuffed our faces with pizza and now we're watching HSMI...just to get in the mood.

This is so frakking exciting.

What Time is It? Summertime!

Last night The Child left the television on when she went to bed. That was ok, I was going in there to watch a little "Battlestar Galactica" anyway. The Disney Channel was running "High School Musical", prepartory to getting all the kiddies psyched up for the premiere of HSMII (as the cool kids are calling it...you know, you have to be able to text it, right?
>

OMG! HSMII! 2nite! LLTA.

Those cats at Disney are nothing if not promoters. It wasn't enough to run the movie. Dig: they had a countdown clock in the corner of the screen. LMAO.



If you look closely at the reflection in the screen you'll see the detritus from the paper chains The Child is making to swag the ceiling. She's already hung a banner and every HSM poster she owns. The family room looks like Tiger Beat threw up.

But please be clear, The Spouse and I, while perhaps not exactly giddy, are looking forward to this, too. Sure, we're way more concerned than The Child that Disney phoned this one in and it won't be as good as the first (although, it must be noted that they took something like a year and a half to make it so that's a hopeful sign). But we liked the first one. We really did. And we're hoping we'll like II as well. I'm so excited, in fact, that I've decided to attempt something new. I'm going to live blog HSMII. Yes, I am. Why not? It'll be hot.

I was reading an article in Slate on HSM, which I can't trouble to link to because I'm in a hurry here, that was ever so snarky about all the pretty kids who were singing and dancing and not having sex or getting drunk or doing drugs and how completely unrealistic and stupid it was to imagine a situation where the biggest problem in high school is being a jock who wants to sing.

I think that was to miss the point entirely. A) I happen to have it on good authority that not every kid in America between the ages of 12 and 18 are having sex and doing drugs when they aren't getting drunk. 2) Giving that demographic a fun, uncomplicated story with the message that you have to be yourself, accompanied by decent tunes and fab choreography is not a bad thing. Hell, I know a grownup or two who could use the occasional reminder that following your bliss and using your gifts is a good idea. 3) Sometimes, just sometimes, Mr. or Ms. Snarky McSnarkerson, it's OK to just have some good, clean fun. And based upon the response to the first movie (one of the nieces who can't wait to watch tonight is 21 for frak's sake) good, clean fun can even be cool. Dig.

'K, so it premiers at 8pm (that would be PDT) so if you need a laugh around then, you can come back here for the live blog. Or just read it all tomorrow. Or, you know, skip it all together.

Dinner and a Show; Only the Other Way Around

Last Thursday we had the great and grand privilege of attending a performance of the Broadway hit, "Wicked".
It was playing at the Oriental Theatre, which was just as ornate, grand and encrusted with all manner of architectural goo-gawery as the name would suggest.

The Spouse and I read Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire a few years ago. Upon hearing it was going to be made into a musical our mutual response was, "HUH?" Nothing about the book suggests singing and dancing. The book is dark and a little sordid, heavy on characterization and fairly light on actual story. This is going to work as a musical?

No. It couldn't possibly. Which is why Winnie Holzman, who wrote the book for the musical played very fast and loose with Maguire's text. How fast and loose? The characters have the same names and maybe 3 or 4 things that happen in the book happen in the play and that's about it. The result is 2 hours and 15 minutes of something entirely reimagined but excellent in it's own right.

The show opens with Glinda asking the musical question: are people born wicked or do some have wickedness thrust upon them?

The musical answer isn't very complicated. Elphaba, with her green skin, has been on the outside all her life; unloved by her father, nursemaid to her sister, racked by guilt about things for which she's not even responsible. But she is smart. She has conviction, loyalty and a pretty centered moral compass. Her choices end up putting her on the wrong side of the status quo and that's when labels like "wicked" start getting bandied about. A victim of politics, she is made into the "other" that the Wizard of Oz necessarily needs in order to keep moving ahead with his agenda. (Dang. That is sounding so familiar, isn't it? You know, like when you call someone a traitor because they disagree with your war policy?)

Elphaba's foil is of course, Galinda...a bubbly, air-head blonde who knows all about what it is to be popular, but isn't half as clever as Elphaba. The play is more focused on the relationship of these two than I remember the book being, thus becoming a story about friendship and all that goes with it: loyalty, betrayal, reconciliation. Galinda might not be as smart as Elphaba, but she knows how to get what she wants and is willing to make whatever alliances she needs to get it.

When they call this a musical they aren't kidding. The show runs for 2 hours, 15 minutes and there are 21 songs. There is not a lot of talking or straight ahead acting in this production. It is just one song after another. Good songs, too. Composer and lyricist Stephen Swartz, he of "Pippin" and "Godspell", has a gift for the grand and soaring as well as the quiet and intimate (which usually ends up become grand and soaring anyway). And if there is a smidge of schmalz to his style, he's got the chops to keep it from running roughshod. There are some imminently singable tunes in this show and a few that will give you chills. (End of the first act? Hello!)

The show is also abundant in pure, good old fashioned stagecraft. The sets are terrific, with fabulous details but a measured simplicity the evoke rather than describe the scenes. There are unbelievably quick costume changes. And snaps to whoever did Elphaba's makeup because I don't know what product there is that can withstand the heat of the lights, plus all the hugging, running, dancing, and generally sweat-inducing activity of being on stage for almost the entire production.

Theater is still fairly pure, virtually untouched by CGI and blue screens and all the rest of it. If someone rises up in the air, you gotta figure out how to hoist 'em. If they melt through a floor, well, someone is going down through a trap door. If there are smoke and mirrors, they are real smoke and mirrors and no clever chappie with his computer and animation program are involved. There is a magic to the theater that film, however much we love it, can never lay claim to.

The show has some serious, dramatic moments, to be sure. And "a message". It is also pretty funny. There's just a lot of inherent comedy in a serious, green witch being college roomies with a pretty, blonde, sorority type. Not to mention the usually quite amusing throw-away references to the movie.

The Child was just beside herself, she loved the show so much. (And here's another difference between the two mediums: the show is absolutely child-friendly. The book not so much. It'll be at least another couple years before I'll let her read it).

I, however, expect to re-read the book soon. I don't, for example, remember the politics being that profound in the book. Or maybe it's just that when I read the book we still had habeaus corpus and domestic surveillance was just an Orwellian fiction. Let's just say it was hard not to compare the Wizard and his agenda to the current administration. And that was creepy.

To sum up: terrific show. Loved. It. Quintessential musical theater experience. I frankly went to the show with a large grain of salt. Too many raves always make me nervous. In this case, the product lives up to the hype. No sooner was it finished than The Child asked, "If this comes to Seattle can we...."

"Yes!" I replied. It really is that good.

Apres theater we went to Smith and Wollensky, a classic steakhouse right off the Dearborn St. bridge, next to our apartment. Because The Spouse really wanted to have a Chicago steak. I, still being full to the ears from all the week's eating, settled for a bowl of soup. Which was only the most gorgeous bowl of black bean soup I've ever had and let me tell you, I have had some mighty fine black bean soup in my day. The Child opted for a Caesar salad, which was bigger than her head but she ate almost all of it. And we were very happy with our simple fare, even as The Spouse dug into a beautiful looking slab of porterhouse. He wanted to bring the bone home as a souvenir for The Dog. I don't think I was wrong to suggest that he not. Oddly, there was just enough room for a delicious bit of Key lime pie, which was a triumph of balance between the shut-off-your-airways tartness inherent in Key limes and just enough sugar to tame but not cloy.



Just another night on the town in Chicago.

Gifted Children

When The Child was very wee, 2ish, The Spouse was quizzing her about things she knew. He asked her, "What does a kitty say?"

"Meow".

"What does a doggie say?"

"Woof, woof".

"How many is this?" (holding up 3 fingers).

"Tree".

"What is Hegel's dialectic?"

"Huh?"

So he thought it would be amusing to teach her "Thesis, antithesis, synthesis".

Then he'd show her off. "Honey, what is Hegel's Dialectic?"

"Thethis, antithethis, synthethis".

Clever girl.

---

She's still being serious about math and at dinner wanted to prepare for a quiz today by sharing with us what she'd learned in class. It was this:

The Pythagorean theorem: The sum of the areas of the two squares on the legs (a and b) equals the area of the square on the hypotenuse (c).The theorem is as follows:

In any right triangle, the area of the square whose side is the hypotenuse (the side of a right triangle opposite the right angle) is equal to the sum of areas of the squares whose sides are the two legs (i.e. the two sides other than the hypotenuse).

If we let c be the length of the hypotenuse and a and b be the lengths of the other two sides, the theorem can be expressed as the equation a²+b²=c² or, solved for c:

√ a²+b²= c

That's right, friends, Euclidean geometry. Not that I understand it. I just like saying "Euclidean". And "hypotenuse"

---

Here's the thing about my generation of parents. They all think their child(ren) is/are gifted. It starts really early. "Oh, little Sebastian was sleeping through the night from the first day". "My little Eudora, she's so gifted. Why, she potty trained herself at 4 months". "I really don't mean to brag, but Anastasia was reading Dickens, to herself mind you, when she was 18 months. I think she's gifted".

Here's a news flash. Hardly any of the little darlings of this generation are baby Einsteins. Sure, a few of them are. And I played classical music to my little darling, too. U2, The Beatles, Dylan, like that. I sang her a lullaby in Spanish and counted her little toes with her and enrolled her in dance class. You do those things. And certainly, children are born with unique gifts, aptitudes and talents. Which are superfantastic and should be nurtured. But come on. The fact that I happen to think my child is the cat's meow (a sound she could replicate in 13 languages, including Latin by the time she was 6 months old) doesn't mean she's gifted. She's my gift. There's a difference.

So when we were teaching her Hegel's Dialectic and "Don't Cry for Me Argentina", it was mostly because it was fun. Like having a pet monkey. The fact that she still remembers that stuff and that she now actually understands what the Dialectic is all about doesn't mean she's going to invent a perpetual motion machine before she graduates 8th grade. It just means that little baby brains are sponges and they can soak up a lot of groovy stuff.

Speaking of Andrew Lloyd Webber, "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" really was her favorite song when she was wee. Only she thought it was about her. She sang, "Don't Cry for Me, Boofacina", which was her nickname. It was pretty adorable.

Bravo! Brava!

The show tonight was super fantastic. I am not kidding. Great, great show. Oh, and "Bye Bye Birdie" was really good.

I'm such a kidder. The musical theatah evening out with the fam was great. The Child was totally into the production, reacting in all the right ways at all the right places. Personally, I'd forgotten how many classic tunes come from that musical. "Put on a Happy Face"? Did you remember that? Anyway, it was just a swell evening of entertainment and we got home at 11:01, which means we missed the whole "The cylons were created by man..." ritual and "previously on Battlestar Galactica" but we got to see the evening's new story, which was quite, quite compelling for those of us who care and now it's beddy bye time.

Except for this:



Bloody good thing I go back to check the comments on jp's blog, isn't it, Gina?

What a Weekend

And it hasn't even officially started yet. Today was marked by a lot of running around, which was mostly rewarding. At the moment, The Child is fixin' to make a deep fried Twinkie. Horrors! She's got a speech tournament tomorrow and she's performing (?) two pieces, one a dramatic reading from (what else?) The Hobbit and the other is a demonstration on how to make aforementioned WMD snack treat. Since she's not actually going to take a deep fryer to the meet, she has to make one now to use for demonstration purposes. Color me grossed out*.

Of course, as she's doing this she's wearing my bathrobe and her hair is wet. And we have to leave in 30 minutes to pick up The Spouse at work so we can get some sushi and then see a community theatre production of "Bye Bye Birdie". Because The Spouse is one of the few straight men I know who adores musical theatre. (Which he's been pronouncing as "theatah" all week).

While I too am looking forward to a few tuna rolls and "The Telephone Song", I am also hoping that we'll be home in time for the second airing of "BSG". Because it's Friday. And because it wasn't on last week. And I'm jonesing here for my Laura Roslin, Bill Adama and Starbuck. I'm geeky like that.

Then tomorrow it's up early to drive north for the tournament. Which I have to stick around for, at least for a little while. That makes me sound like an uninvolved parent. I hope you know I'm not. Part of this parenting gig is being there for your kid...chaperoning field trips and watching volleyball games and being in the audience when she performs. And I remember how much it meant to me to know that Dame Judi and Sean were there for me when I was doing stuff. It's just that, really, I can think of 412 things I'd rather do than sit and watch a bunch of middle school kids give speeches. Even if one of them is my own progeny. Sigh. There it is.

I guess I can leave after the first round of speeches, which will be noonish. And I intend to do so for lo, it is the weekend and even though it looks like JP is jumping on the bandwagon, I've got me some videos to spin up. (It's not that I mind if he plays videos, mind you. He was doing it way before I was. It's just that sometimes we share a brain and that could lead to a smidge of redundancy. Oh well, life is full of challenges like that).

My nails need a manicure before the theatah but since it'll be a while before I can get into All 80s Weekend, we'll start off with this little number. Got the tip from Red7Eric, who knew of this group when he lived in the UK. I have never, ever heard of them or this song but apparently they were big across the pond, big enough to open for bands like INXS. Plus you have to love a band named "Voice of the Beehive". Mercy.







*We've made deep fried Twinkies before, for Forth o' Juleye, and there is an appeal. But really, not the healthiest snack choice.