I have very specific inspiration for recycling this
particular post today. My girl and I are on a roll and our pace is increasing.
Last year we saw Wicked,
Billy
Elliot, and Hairspray on stage and many many musical films including Les
Miserables and Hairspray with a side of Grease, Moulin Rouge, and The Sound of
Music (do not even think I am referring to that Carrie Underwood puke fest). I
also saw American Idiot, but with grown up girls. My girl and I love our
musicals, they are the soundtrack of our lives, quite literally. Tonight we
will be seeing Beauty and the Beast, next Friday is Fiddler on the Roof, and I
have just procured tickets for the show of all shows: JOSEPH. I can’t wait til
June! We’ve also got The Book of Mormon (for grown up girls) and Once on deck
to finish out this amazing season. The only way we could step up our game is to find our way to NYC for NPH as Hedwig. sawooooooon!
Wednesday,
September 17, 2008
Labels: by
Jacquie
Behind the
wooden slats of the built in cabinets in our orange shag carpeted den, my
parents had a really cool reel to reel stereo. The music was so appealing in
its white boxes with my dad’s handwritten labels in black. There was opera on
Sundays, classical always, but most compelling were the soundtracks.
We were a Musical family.
Not a musical family as in a family who makes music, no. With the exception of piano expertise that diminished exponentially with birth order, we did not play instruments.
We were a Musical family, as in musicals. On stage and screen.
We did not act in musicals, no. We sang to be sure, and we could recite the scripts of many productions, but when I say that ours was a Musical family I mean that our family was into show tunes.
Where did it start? As long as I can remember, there were musicals. Godspell was an early favorite, as were The Sound of Music, Annie, and Jesus Christ, Superstar. It wasn’t all wholesome and bibles though, I can still say every single line from the soundtrack of the original broadway cast recording of A Chorus Line, although Dad did edit out the provocative “orchestra and balcony” number. And Pippin – remember Pippin? We had a video recording of a stage production with Ben Vereen as the narrator and the guy from the Greatest American Hero as Pippin. He was so smoking hot in that net shirt.
Our biggest show had to have been Joseph. Ahhh, Joseph. We saw it on stages from junior high to Broadway. How many times did we go to the Downtown Cabaret Theater to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat? Every. Single. Line. Just ask Beth, who once had the distinct pleasure of transporting three drunk sisters across the international border in her Spud McMod while we serenaded her from orchestra to curtain call.
As we grew older, and the shag became berber and the reels became cassettes and then CDs, our penchant for musicals remained. Ellie and I once did a three month lap around the country, and belted out every single line of Little Shop of Horrors at least 3 or 4 times a day. Once we treated a relative stranger in St. Paul to the whole rendition, pausing only long enough to inform him that his kitchen cupboards were organized all wrong.
My kids enjoy a musical, one kid more than the other, at least on record. They’re products of the Disney machine, and the soundtrack of their early childhood was sung by Simba, Ariel, Mogli, and Cruella; but they have an ear for the oldies as well. When my boy was little, he was known to sport a jaunty hat and dance around yelling “Step in time! Step in time!” And my girl’s heart was broken by Dorothy’s plight, so much so that she has yet to make it all the way through to the satisfying click of red heels.
They are also products of their mother, and have their own favorite songs from the soundtracks that have been known to reside in my car stereo for months after I see a show or a movie, like “the uh oh song” (track 3 from Moulin rouge), “the growling song” (track 7, disc 2 from rent) and “oh man, not THAT one again!" (any track from Mama Mia), and yes, even a select few from Hedwig, but certainly not every single line.
Life should be more like musicals. Wouldn't it be effective if, in moments of extreme emotion, we just burst into song? Did you see Enchanted? I love when Giselle suggested that Robert sing to his estranged girlfriend, otherwise how would she know his true feelings? Imagine the staff meetings if we sang the really important stuff. Imagine how much more enjoyable it would be to break up or make up with someone, to teach your kids an important message, or struggle with a difficult decision. I wish I could sing this post to you, to illustrate my affection for musicals. A singing blog... now we're talking.
We were a Musical family.
Not a musical family as in a family who makes music, no. With the exception of piano expertise that diminished exponentially with birth order, we did not play instruments.
We were a Musical family, as in musicals. On stage and screen.
We did not act in musicals, no. We sang to be sure, and we could recite the scripts of many productions, but when I say that ours was a Musical family I mean that our family was into show tunes.
Where did it start? As long as I can remember, there were musicals. Godspell was an early favorite, as were The Sound of Music, Annie, and Jesus Christ, Superstar. It wasn’t all wholesome and bibles though, I can still say every single line from the soundtrack of the original broadway cast recording of A Chorus Line, although Dad did edit out the provocative “orchestra and balcony” number. And Pippin – remember Pippin? We had a video recording of a stage production with Ben Vereen as the narrator and the guy from the Greatest American Hero as Pippin. He was so smoking hot in that net shirt.
Our biggest show had to have been Joseph. Ahhh, Joseph. We saw it on stages from junior high to Broadway. How many times did we go to the Downtown Cabaret Theater to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat? Every. Single. Line. Just ask Beth, who once had the distinct pleasure of transporting three drunk sisters across the international border in her Spud McMod while we serenaded her from orchestra to curtain call.
As we grew older, and the shag became berber and the reels became cassettes and then CDs, our penchant for musicals remained. Ellie and I once did a three month lap around the country, and belted out every single line of Little Shop of Horrors at least 3 or 4 times a day. Once we treated a relative stranger in St. Paul to the whole rendition, pausing only long enough to inform him that his kitchen cupboards were organized all wrong.
My kids enjoy a musical, one kid more than the other, at least on record. They’re products of the Disney machine, and the soundtrack of their early childhood was sung by Simba, Ariel, Mogli, and Cruella; but they have an ear for the oldies as well. When my boy was little, he was known to sport a jaunty hat and dance around yelling “Step in time! Step in time!” And my girl’s heart was broken by Dorothy’s plight, so much so that she has yet to make it all the way through to the satisfying click of red heels.
They are also products of their mother, and have their own favorite songs from the soundtracks that have been known to reside in my car stereo for months after I see a show or a movie, like “the uh oh song” (track 3 from Moulin rouge), “the growling song” (track 7, disc 2 from rent) and “oh man, not THAT one again!" (any track from Mama Mia), and yes, even a select few from Hedwig, but certainly not every single line.
Life should be more like musicals. Wouldn't it be effective if, in moments of extreme emotion, we just burst into song? Did you see Enchanted? I love when Giselle suggested that Robert sing to his estranged girlfriend, otherwise how would she know his true feelings? Imagine the staff meetings if we sang the really important stuff. Imagine how much more enjoyable it would be to break up or make up with someone, to teach your kids an important message, or struggle with a difficult decision. I wish I could sing this post to you, to illustrate my affection for musicals. A singing blog... now we're talking.
4 comments:
Love it, Jacq! Pure nostalgia. Have fun attending musicals with your girl! xo
I have read this post before, but forgot how brilliant it is!
Yes, we SHOULD all sing the important parts. It reminds me of a quote I have pinned that says: "When something goes wrong in your life, just yell 'Plot twsit!" and move one." But singing this would be even more effective;)
(We do sing through preschooler hair brushing at our house, it does help.)
Enjoy your show tonight!! Really looking forward to Fiddler next Friday. I have been singing "If I were a rich man" sporadically throughout my week. I can't tell you how much my children appreciate it. Ha ha. They'll be doing it too after next week though!
every.single.line.
xoxo
Beth
Way way back many centuries ago- ah, the memories... love, mom
Oh, the singing. I love the singing. I love the musicals. I love Little Shop and Joseph and Hair and West Side Story and The Sound of Music and Fiddler on the Roof and every.single.line of every.single.musical.
The only bad thing is *going* to the musicals, and not being able to sing along, at the top of one's lungs, from the audience.
Love.
Ellie
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