I live in your phone!
The morning hours are conducive to blog writing, I find. I haven't written in such a long time because it has been quite a while since I've last felt like I've had anything particularly witty that a good number of people that I know personally haven't already heard. If you're in the know you know that I don't like to repeat stories online unless I'm sure that almost no one has already heard it yet.
This of course means that I do withhold certain Tom stories from you guys in real life from time to time in order to save them for the intertron. Unfortunately, this also means that due to my innate laziness these stories never make it to the interweb and are consequently forgotten. That in itself is supremely tragic. If we were a different society I'm sure there would be much anguish and tearing of robes, followed by a long period of mourning. Some, however, are just too good to not share. The following is such a one, most likely preceded by a long explanation of the circumstances that lead up to where the story actually begins; I know myself well enough to say that with confidence.
I generally do not enjoy musicals. In fact, generally is too weak of a word. For this I will have to go with almost always do not enjoy musicals. Show tunes (and I'm assuming that show tunes is an umbrella term for all musical numbers) just incite such strong feelings of repulsion. Actually, after thinking about it for all of five seconds, I'm pretty sure the culprit is the way that musicals are sung. If I knew the technical term in this case I would use it.
Here would be good for those of you playing at home to note that Tom has no musical genes whatsoever. Bullet point that.
Anyhow, we've established that Tom and musicals are like two cats (not the musical), one already accustomed to being the only cat and the other the rude and strange intruder, minus the subsequent marking of territory with urine. That is a simile.
Tom's blog is also an educational blog.
I actually stumbled onto Avenue Q the way most people not living in New York City find out about musicals: the internet. The song was Everyone's a Little Bit Racist and it featured these characters singing about how everyone is a little bit racist (not obvious from the title), that they should just take themselves a lot less seriously and see that life is actually quite humorous. If we could do that, the song postulates, then everyone would be a little better off. Aside from the fact that the song is sung half by people manipulating muppets on stage and that they are coarse and vulgar, the song's message, quite frankly, is something that I think a lot of the people in this world can benefit from. Let's just face it, there are a multitude of folks out there with a stick up in the vicinity of their rectal area. They're of different sizes, to be sure, but still, a foreign object in the butt. That's just the gospel truth.
Get over yourselves.
The rest of the soundtrack also dispenses valuable advice, like how people who suffer are actually providing a "vital service" to those watching these trainwreck lives and feeling better that "at least my life isn't as bad as theirs". Relativism at it's finest. Sage economic advice is also covered in the stage portion of the show, when these two characters called the Bad Idea Bears suggest that buying a case of beer as opposed to just one means that you're actually saving money over the long run. The Bad Idea Bears are the best characters in that production, but I digress.
Anyway, Avenue Q, the first musical that I've ever actually wanted to watch. So when it was announced that it was coming to Los Angeles, you bet your last month's rent that I would be getting my tickets the moment it became available. Luckily, the theater group is privy to the plights of the lower class and recognized that a majority of people would be much too poor to afford seven billion dollar, front row, wet zone tickets. So, a subcategory of tickets were available for the Avenue Q showings, dubbed HotTix. For $20 you played the game of chance where they basically slotted you into empty seats anywhere in the theater. We rolled the dice and came away with...
Two pairs of seats, four and six rows respectively, from the stage on the end of the aisle. A section generally reserved for oil tycoons and the wives of doctors for $20 a pop. Not bad at all.
We purchased the tickets about a month in advance. The day of the showing we were almost late, but luckily the curtain went up a little later than it was supposed to. I sat in front of these two very sweet white ladies who decided that I should slouch in my seat so as to not block their view of the stage. Then the show began.
The song that hooked me, Everyone's a Little Bit Racist, is sung about fifteen minutes into the show. The two muppets get to the point where they try to clarify their position: "Now, not big judgements like who to hire or who to buy a newspaper from... no, just little judgements like thinking that Mexican busboys should learn to speak goddamn English!" At this, one of the two aforementioned gentle ladies blurted out, "That is so true!"
Fin.
This of course means that I do withhold certain Tom stories from you guys in real life from time to time in order to save them for the intertron. Unfortunately, this also means that due to my innate laziness these stories never make it to the interweb and are consequently forgotten. That in itself is supremely tragic. If we were a different society I'm sure there would be much anguish and tearing of robes, followed by a long period of mourning. Some, however, are just too good to not share. The following is such a one, most likely preceded by a long explanation of the circumstances that lead up to where the story actually begins; I know myself well enough to say that with confidence.
I generally do not enjoy musicals. In fact, generally is too weak of a word. For this I will have to go with almost always do not enjoy musicals. Show tunes (and I'm assuming that show tunes is an umbrella term for all musical numbers) just incite such strong feelings of repulsion. Actually, after thinking about it for all of five seconds, I'm pretty sure the culprit is the way that musicals are sung. If I knew the technical term in this case I would use it.
Here would be good for those of you playing at home to note that Tom has no musical genes whatsoever. Bullet point that.
Anyhow, we've established that Tom and musicals are like two cats (not the musical), one already accustomed to being the only cat and the other the rude and strange intruder, minus the subsequent marking of territory with urine. That is a simile.
Tom's blog is also an educational blog.
I actually stumbled onto Avenue Q the way most people not living in New York City find out about musicals: the internet. The song was Everyone's a Little Bit Racist and it featured these characters singing about how everyone is a little bit racist (not obvious from the title), that they should just take themselves a lot less seriously and see that life is actually quite humorous. If we could do that, the song postulates, then everyone would be a little better off. Aside from the fact that the song is sung half by people manipulating muppets on stage and that they are coarse and vulgar, the song's message, quite frankly, is something that I think a lot of the people in this world can benefit from. Let's just face it, there are a multitude of folks out there with a stick up in the vicinity of their rectal area. They're of different sizes, to be sure, but still, a foreign object in the butt. That's just the gospel truth.
Get over yourselves.
The rest of the soundtrack also dispenses valuable advice, like how people who suffer are actually providing a "vital service" to those watching these trainwreck lives and feeling better that "at least my life isn't as bad as theirs". Relativism at it's finest. Sage economic advice is also covered in the stage portion of the show, when these two characters called the Bad Idea Bears suggest that buying a case of beer as opposed to just one means that you're actually saving money over the long run. The Bad Idea Bears are the best characters in that production, but I digress.
Anyway, Avenue Q, the first musical that I've ever actually wanted to watch. So when it was announced that it was coming to Los Angeles, you bet your last month's rent that I would be getting my tickets the moment it became available. Luckily, the theater group is privy to the plights of the lower class and recognized that a majority of people would be much too poor to afford seven billion dollar, front row, wet zone tickets. So, a subcategory of tickets were available for the Avenue Q showings, dubbed HotTix. For $20 you played the game of chance where they basically slotted you into empty seats anywhere in the theater. We rolled the dice and came away with...
Two pairs of seats, four and six rows respectively, from the stage on the end of the aisle. A section generally reserved for oil tycoons and the wives of doctors for $20 a pop. Not bad at all.
We purchased the tickets about a month in advance. The day of the showing we were almost late, but luckily the curtain went up a little later than it was supposed to. I sat in front of these two very sweet white ladies who decided that I should slouch in my seat so as to not block their view of the stage. Then the show began.
The song that hooked me, Everyone's a Little Bit Racist, is sung about fifteen minutes into the show. The two muppets get to the point where they try to clarify their position: "Now, not big judgements like who to hire or who to buy a newspaper from... no, just little judgements like thinking that Mexican busboys should learn to speak goddamn English!" At this, one of the two aforementioned gentle ladies blurted out, "That is so true!"
Fin.