At a Play

I went to see "Wicked" on Sunday with a couple of girlfriends.  My mom always made a point of taking us to see Broadway touring shows a couple of times a year.  I have very distinct memories of sitting in the back row of the second balcony at the Arie Crown or the Schubert, watching such classics as "South Pacific," "Oklahoma!," "Annie," and, of course, "Evita."  It didn't matter that you could barely see anything from the nosebleed seats.  What mattered was that you were at a play.  Nothing compares with the magic of that moment when the curtain goes up, the conductor lifts his wand and a hush falls over the audience.

I am so grateful to my mother for instilling in me a love of live theater.  I'm trying to pass that on to a third generation in the form, of course, of J.  I took her to Seattle last fall to see "Harold and the Purple Crayon."  We rode the train up from Kelso, stayed in a hotel and hung out at Seattle Center.  We've read the book approximately 1,074 times, so I knew she could follow the basics of the plot.  The Seattle Children's Theater has no assigned seats, so we got to sit in the front row.  She loved every minute, though it was trippy to watch a grown, slightly chubby man in blue footies. 

Next week we're headed to Portland to see "Busytown." 

Awesome, right?  We're going with friends, and I'm thinking a bottle of red prior to curtain might be in order. 

My goal is to find plays, puppet shows or other performances several times a year and make mother-daughter dates out of them.  It's expensive, though.  We may be looking more at high school and community theaters than at the "official" children's theaters.  She won't know the difference--to her, it's the story and the experience, not the price.  She'll be at a play--with all that implies.  I love it!

So anyway, back to "Wicked."  Somehow I had never seen it, though I knew the score and I had read the book, so I had the general back story.  It is NOT a kid's play.  I was pretty shocked at how many little kids were at the play; some even dressed in Wizard of Oz costumes.  I can only imagine how bored and/or scared they must have been.  With tickets costing up to $200, it seemed a shortsighted extravagance, since a lot of the kids were crying and many left at intermission.

The cast was great, and I very much enjoyed it.  I mean, I was at a play!  G won't go to plays with me.  I think I am just going to have to start going without him.  It's a part of who I am that I don't want to lose sight of.  There's a metaphor in there somewhere.

And, yes, soon I will tell you all about J's birthday and our trip to Disney World.  But I'm still decompressing, and the pictures are still on my camera.  Soon.  I promise.  Because I know you can't wait.