showgirls

My girl and my girl Autumn's girl got together a couple of days ago for hours of shriek and squeal infested fun. When the warning was issued that our departure time was imminent, the inevitable protest arose: "but we're doing a show!"

We've got a long and complicated history with shows. Don't all kids? We had shows for the ages back in the day on Bettswood Road. And my parents were either way better actors than we performers were, or were just more easily entertained than I have become; because when it comes to shows, I am generally of the tomato throwing audience genre. Perhaps I've even made a young performer cry by criticizing a recent show for not being her best work.

But I've learned that it's less painful to just suffer through the show than to protest its inception. And if nothing else, there's always comedy to be had at the expense of the preshus cheeldrens.

So Autumn and I took our assigned cocktails seats and waited for the magic to commence.

This was a Christmas show that was ripped from the headlines, for poor Santa was down with a case of swine flu, and his wife had been called upon to fill in, a fact that she was slightly less than enthused about.

Here we see Mrs. Claus with a rare smile, welcoming an innocent and unsuspecting young girl to climb aboard her lap and state her demands:

In scene two, the audience got yelled at for laughing and talking. There were a lot of rules about how to behave during this show. Look how disappointed my girl down there in the corner is in me. She expected more out of me. Silly girl:

But the show must go on (damnation!), so we cut to the actress formerly known as Mrs. Grumpy Claus now playing the part of a tired, downtrodden mom putting her child to bed on Christmas Eve with strict warnings not to peek at any suspicious noises or jingles or whatnot.

Predictably, the girl awoke and confronted Mrs. Claus, which did not go over well:

Look, I don't really know what happened. Who cares? It's not about the plot, it's about the actresses! One or both of whom seem to frequently be surly and/or blurry.

but in the end, there is always a triumphant TA DA!

The very next day, my girl put on another show, but this was no amateur kitchen skit, this was for realsies.

This was a living room, and we moved furniture!

My girl is keeping a watchful eye on the others, naturally. She is wee, but she is mighty:

The ballerinas move with eloquence and poise, in graceful synchronicity

Umm
Well, synchronicity isn't all that impressive anyway. But you know what is impressive?

A solo so dramatic, so alive, so electrifying that the dancer not only makes a wave with the very hairs on her head, but she pirouettes herself right out of her shoe!

Ach, the drama. It was a glorious performance. We laughed, we cried, we neither talked nor spoke (with the exception of the occasionally growled: "quiet, boys!", which no one minded).

And at the end, a triumphant TA DA!

Thanks for the shows, my beautiful girl!

Sorry about those tomatoes.