I went to the Portland Civic Center to see a performance this weekend; I didn't want to go, but my girlfriend made me. Nikki, while not a stuck-up girl, is the kind who wants to be somebody; always trying to improve herself. She dreams of traveling to Italy and France, and spends good money after bad, keeping current with fashion. She reads the classics, likes art museums and Ibsen plays. She always wants to experience, what she calls, "culture." And it isn't enough that she wants to reinvent herself; she's going to drag me with her every step of the way!
When she told me that she'd bought tickets to see Mummenschantz, I only had one question...What to heck is a Mummenschanz? Nikki had a big smile on her face, about as big as if she'd won the Lottery, or just drank a gallon of Moxie and she told me that I'd just have to wait until the show; that I'd be pleasantly surprised. Due to her track record, I doubted Nikki's assessment, but it did bring up hopeful dreams of All-Nude Revues and Mud Wrestling Beat poetry...I should be so lucky.
So the day of the show came and we arrived at the auditorium. I never saw so many stuffy-looking people in all my life. Right then and there I gave up hope of seeing Pamela Anderson or Anna Nicole Smith covered in mud, reciting Ginsberg's "Howl..” I guess it's like Nikki always tells me, "You need to keep an open mind.
We found our assigned row and settled into our seats. A tub of popcorn and a coke would have been nice, but I didn't remember seeing any concession stands when I came in. I asked Nikki about it, and she gave me her, "Don't be an idiot," leer. When she gives me that look I know its time to shut up.
The lights grew dim; everything got very dark and the place went quiet. I kept my eyes peeled to the stage; if something big was about to happen I wasn't going to miss it.
Suddenly a spotlight lit up a portion of the stage and a moment later, a big slinky appeared inside the circular light. The audience went wild, clapping and cheering. I kept looking, trying to see if I was missing something; maybe a scantily clad woman, or a dog act, but all I saw was this big, black corrugated tube.
The giant slinky moved about the stage and the audience clapped at regular intervals, and a lady next to me politely shouted, "Bravo!" but, whatever its purpose, it was all lost on me.
After several minutes of this pointless movement; the slinky slunk off the stage, and on came this duo--apparently one a man and the other a woman. I say apparently, because they were both covered head to foot in tight, black leotards--so tight in fact, there wasn't much doubt as to which was the man and which was the woman. Instead of faces, (and at first I wasn't sure,) they had rolls of toilet paper. I whispered in Nikki's ear, "Am I seeing right, are their eyes and mouths toilet paper rolls?" Nikki shushed me with a low "Shhh!" and a rushed wave of her hand, so I figured I'd just wait and see.
This couple walked around the stage, never saying a word, just looking at each other and ripping off tissues from those rolls on their faces. The audience seemed enthralled, and Nikki had her mouth open wide enough to catch flies, but all I could think about was whether I was low on toilet paper at home.
This silent toilet paper confab went on far too long, but I figured the law of averages was on my side. This next act had to be more interesting, right?
Next these two mimes came out again, apparently the same ones with the TP fixation. Just as before, they were dressed all in black from head-to-foot. Thankfully the paper rolls were gone, but in their place was a huge lump of clay. The couple proceeded to work facial expressions out of Those lumps of playdoh and would then look at one another. This was sort of amusing for a few moments, but after five interminable minutes, I had a nearly uncontrollable urge to scream out, "Hey, you've been there, done that, now move on!" but I resisted that temptation because Nikki would have killed me.
That's how the evening went: A big blue ball rolled around eating similarly large jax. White, flat faced people strolled around aimlessly on stage--and I forget, who knows what else. During the entire performance, these mimes never spoke, never groaned, never said a single word. It was almost like a typical evening with Nikki's parents.
Mercifully the show came to an end and we filed out of the auditorium and walked to the car--Nikki all aglow--me, hurriedly digging for my car keys. "So how did you like it," she asked.
I didn't have the heart (and I didn't dare) to tell her the truth, but managed to avoid completely lying, "It was unusual, very different,"
She looked at me with a loving smile and I instantly felt guilty for my ambiguous lie. "I'm glad you liked it Yem, because I have tickets next week for Cirque Du Sole
"Cirque the what?"
"Cirque, as in circus Yem. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."
Surprised? I'm excited! I think Nikki is finally coming around to my way of thinking. I just love the big top: Elephants, lions, tigers, clowns and human cannonballs--I can hardly wait!
In a list
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Comments
1 - 39 of 39
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ha ha ha...Nikki has you fooled...What a fun story...
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Yes, she always had me fooled, but that's another story, lol
Thank you for reading my fiction!
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Great...can't wait to read 'that' story... and I love reading your stories...a nice respite between sewing and cooking today...long enough to be fun but short enough to just fill a break...
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Random clicking---
Yem and Culture---
"...never said a single word. It was almost like a typical evening with Nikki's parents."
You covered a lot of ground here,
all your peeves and faves---Moxie spoken
of in gallon terms!
Brought on smiles---as did your antics
with Pixie and the clowns!
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I'd just returned from California, my ex-girlfriend read this and wasn't too pleased. She completely mistook my premise...it wasn't the woman's fault, it was the man's. He's the jerk. He's the uncouth one. She saw it as me calling her phony.
But that was ages ago and the story, as a story...I like it. I no longer see it as a story about my failure to be as "classy" as her, but simply as a fun tale of the typical male slob who women have to put up with.
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Perception---that's what it's all about!
But what could be classier than your love of Moxie? -
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I think Moxie is classy...but all those who take sips and spit it out think differently. I think most like the initial taste, then the after-taste kicks in...whatever that is.
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Similar reaction as when meeting different people---
no spitting out---but perceptiion prevails,
judging by first impression, which sometimes
may be true to character, but in other
instances, more time needed to explore.
But the black tubes, the meandering on the stage,
definitely an acquired taste! -
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Mummenshantz. I liked them. They were/are odd, performance art. Funny thing is, I'm the one who would have been more likely to watch experimental performances, but I had a story to write and as a good friend says, "Never let the truth get in the way of a good story."
I have to run. I never even asked how you were today. I'm fine.
Bye
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I never saw Mummenschanz but remember the commercials when it was on Broadway back in the 1970s I think.
This was a nice read...very funny. I chuckled a few times. Had to work clowns in though. Better than chicken.
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folk will think I am being totally random commenting here.
I like birds. But after reading that book, I sort of have some issues with chickens.
The chicken was just a symbol in the story, a way to express a greater horror later.
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Mistaking clowns for chickens is a sorry state indeed.
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Refresh my memory, clowns are the ones you eat with potatoes and gravy, right?
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LOL. I take my clown medium rare...
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That isn't Bonko he is definitely well-done!
Let me introduce you to Bonko:
"After a night of heavy drinking, Bonko awoke at five the next morning, his eyes filled with mucous and his chin coated in spittle. Fired from his gig at a child's birthday party after openly swearing at the children who failed to laugh at his antics (his breath still smelled of stale beer) He'd thrown a swing at a chubby ten-year-old boy who'd called him Bozo, culminating in his being tossed to the curb by a mob of angry parents."
From: "Fathers And Daughters"
Definitely well-done. -
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Stick a fork in Bonko. He certainly is. You paint a such a flattering picture of Bonko. lol
I'll send him the priest.
Did I mention Bozo was my hero? -
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I call my younger brother Bozo. He is definitely not my hero.
It was a comedy. the irrepressible Bubbles shows up at the door and makes the poor clown bear his new found daughter's exuberance.
Ronald McDonald, now there is a heroic clown! -
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Bozo is your brother? Small world.
Bonzo is not only a drunk but a dead beat dad too? I'm glad you saw fit to give that a happy ending.
Ronald McDonald is okay...Emmett Kelly is classic.
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Not Bonzo! That was Ronald Reagan's monkey! Bonko! lol
Not a deadbeat dad. He never knew, He had a torrid affair with her mother, the bearded lady...she never told him about Bubbles.
Sadly, that is how the story goes, lol -
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The drunk clown and bearded lady affair is so overdone in literature, don't you think?
I have to read the story. Where is it hidden?
oops on the name. -
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It's in the list, "Bonkers for Bonko" Not all my wonderful Bonko stories are there yet,
http://allpoetry.com/poem/4862163
You'll be sorry! lol -
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I'm going in *blesses self*
Don't run off...I know I'll have questions. -
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I'll answer one now: Bazarov is a nihilist in Ivan Turgenev's novel, "Father and sons" Thus my title, "Father's And Daughters"
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I saw Mummenshanz on the Muppet show, that was it. I did look them up on the internet and read as much as I could about them.
I like clowns, what can I say.
Ginger...how about Ginger, that is a good name...Gingerstix? -
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Ginger is my dog. Too confusing. I don't know if I really want the Yemish translation of my screenname.
The Muppet Show? lol I recently captioned something with Kermit the Frog. -
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Too bad, the new name I came up with is perfect....
yes, I ought to work in advertising... -
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Okay...what is it? and if you say so...
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Moonswept...huh, huh, that is you isn't it!
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It sounds too much like "Moonstruck" the movie with Cher. That's the best so far. Sure beats Myrtle although I hear she makes a great lasanga. We have that in common.
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You are going to be Pixie, I shall have to live with that. I have come to terms with the fact that I will always be Yemassee. Folk like the name Yem, it seems to fit me I guess.
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I'm used to pixie. Sorry it's such a chore for you to accept. lol
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LOL, good one. Well it's hard for a guy to think "pixiestix" Now if you changed your name to "pickup truck" or "pretzels and Beer" that would be helpful. Any chance you might like one of those?
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PickUp Truck sounds nasty.
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I am not responsible for your deviant thoughts...I just think up really great names.
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Great names? if you say so...
I don't have deviant thoughts. Who would really want to be called pickup truck?
I had chicken for dinner. It felt so wrong. -
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There was a "Truck" Robinson, a basketball player in the early 80's. He was kind of built like a truck.
I had chicken for lunch. It felt so right! -
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He's a guy. Go to the walmart and call a woman a truck and see what happens.
Bird hater.
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To my credit, moonswept was off the top of my head. I had nothing when I made believe I did.
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Credit bestowed.
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