Syphilis? Really??

9 Aug

Tonight marked the beginning of my labor with our final show here.  I got back to Wig World where I live during the show and one of the singers was sitting in the chair at my station with a chi straightening iron and a head full of tight curly hair.  There was still about an hour until they were supposed to be on stage so she asked me to straighten her hair – which I had never done in my entire life.  I had a flat iron like 6 years ago I’d use on my own board straight hair to make it stick up more but I had a feeling this would be a little more difficult.

It didn’t take too long before I got the hang of it and had finished all but a Flock of Seagulls style poof on the top of her head when the director called a company meeting.  We all went out to the theater, myself standing on stage next to my lovely Wigmaster.  This is where my problem begins.  As I wrote in my previous post about the conversation with the blue collar greek god, I do the same with speeches, lectures, instruction, even sometimes just general long conversation.  The production in question was Candide, the song in my head this time was Lady Gaga’s “The Fame”.

The Director:  I need to see the best from everyone tonight, especially in the first scene when FAME! Doin it for the FAME! Cause we want to live the life of the RICH and FAMOUS

DAMNIT!  I had lost track again.  I snapped back into the conversation.

The Director: When Candide  comes out in the second scene I want to see the chorus focus in on Runway Models, Caddilacs and Liquor Bottles.  Give me something I wanna be, retro glamour, Hollywood we live for the –

DAMNIT!  Pay attention, you may need to retain some of this.  My hips had started to swing and everything.  And I was standing in the middle of the stage. 

The director: FAME! Doin it for the FAME! Cuz we wanna live the life of He had slept with Paquette and she gave him Syphilis.

What the eff – That definitely grabbed my attention.  I’m still pretty green when it comes to the plots of a lot of musicals and operas, I watch movies.  If I can’t freely take a nap in the middle of it I’d usually rather not.  I get that from my father.  But anyway, after my brutally mutilated 20 second wig placement I went out to the audience and watched a couple numbers from the show.  The first number I saw, “Dear Boy” was about how the guy had syphilis.  Um… ew?  Please, can we change the subject ad sing a happy song?

The next number, I think it was “Auto-da-fe” detailed the journey the syphilis virus he was infected with had made it’s journey to him.  Call me insensitive or cold or whatever you please but I freakin HATE watching shows about STD’s.  I watched the movie in high school science class, I don’t need to watch a two and a half hour production about it.  I hated Rent, and believe me I’ve been chastised plenty for being openly ANTI-RENT.  It’s freakin La Boheme with hipsters!  Philadelphia sucked.  I liked Angels in America because the characters were more interesting but beyond that STD dramas just ain’t my bag.

Needless to say it didn’t hold my attention span so I headed home, I’ll be hearing enough of the show in it’s entirety for the next 6 days anyway I can deal with not hearing about syphilis for one night.  I think I’ll write a musical about the Clap and see who shows up.


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