Do you sometimes have to quell the urge to spontaneously burst into song at random times in an average day? Well, me neither. Thats one reason I always hated musicals and thought they were just plain ol silly.... especially when I was younger. I swear, the whole concept of being deep in thought or having a serious conversation and then suddenly to start singing a tune and dancing around was just crazy to me. As I got older, the only spontaneous utterance that sprang from my lips most likely included 4 letter words after trippin or bumpin into somethin! But way back in the 60's Aunt Kat and Mother would dress Sister and I up in matching but different colored starched itchy dresses and drag us kickin and screamin to the Dallas Summer Musicals, all the while telling us how fortunate we were. This was a ritual we hated and thought it surely must be punishment for some unspeakable act. Had to be, we figured because it was so severe. Why, musicals made 'big church' seem like a much shorter walk in the park. Yes, we endured many painful hardships growing up, which is evidenced by our scowls in most childhood pictures.
If we saw any chance of escape, no doubt we would have tried. It was so bad that the highlight of the event was walking in the blistering Texas heat from the parking lot to the Music Hall at Fair Park, scratchin our underarms because of the stiff prickly dresses we were forced to wear and probably limpin as well, due to our shiny black patent leather shoes peenchin our feet while our sweaty socks crept down and wadded themselves up, all the while listening to Aunt Kat and Mother complain about how the Texas humidity was ruining their hairdo's. This was the 60's but people weren't dodging bullets yet in the Fair Park area. That would come later....
Oh Mama and Aunt Kat would bribe us with candy to sit still at least until intermission, but I hafta say there were not enough M & M's or really cute Barbie Doll clothes in existence that made sitting through that mess any less painful. And during intermission we didn't want to hear how privileged we were or how little kids in third world countries were starving for candy and culturally deprived. Sadly we didn't care and at the time wished we could trade places with a couple of'em. Later, as an adult, I had to think they did us a favor. From that experience we learned so many things about ourselves. The first thing we learned was to think long and hard before seeing plays and things of that nature. Why, I even check the length of movies before committing to go. Habit....
But now, strangely enough I find myself actually enjoying musicals. Gary and I will go occasionally if there is something we want to see. Yes, he actually likes musicals. In fact, I know quite a few grown men who enjoy them. We even saw South Pacific while vacationing in Coronado one year. We had a fine time. Of course, during the performance we were both wishing we didn't have to come back home.
Recently we saw Guys and Dolls, for my birthday. It was very entertaining, albeit an hour too long. We both have fond memories of the music which made it even better. Plus, we ate lunch at the Music Hall beforehand and it was fabulous! The other benefit of eating there was parking right by the building instead of in a parking lot far away, a good thing when its 107*.
I hafta wonder if embracing some of the things I loathed so much as a kid is another way of staying close to loved ones and preserving a few of those memories. I mean, who would have thought I'd actually prefer Cane Syrup over honey or jelly on my biscuits? Again, every time I have the option I'll choose Cane Syrup and Im instantly transported back to Grandmother's (and later Aunt Kat's) kitchen, sitting on the counter stool with the flip out steps and seeing that Brer Rabbit Syrup container and wondering how anyone in their right mind would eat that nasty stuff! Bad food but good memories make me crave the same bad food. Go figure.
There is a limit to my fondness for nostalgia though. I will never again; God as my witness, wear an itchy starched dress and peenchy patent leather shoes with creeping socks. Those memories are better left alone.
Sing.... Sing A Song?
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
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