Skip to main content

Give our Regards to Broadway

Thirty+ years ago my mother-in-law took her son to see a production of Annie. It in instilled in him a love of musical theatre matched only by my love of felines...

And if you have ever met either one of us you'll know that by "love" we mean an outright hatred of musical theatre (him) and cats (me).

Interestingly enough, Husband does love cats. How a man who loves cats could also dislike musical theatre is beyond me. It is just part of the daily conundrum associated with being married to a country-music-hating, belt-buckle-avoiding, cowboy-boot-not-owning professional pig farmer.

Husband's disastrous trip to see Annie is part of family legend, so when I saw that Annie was returning to Dayton, I knew that my mother-in-law would want another chance to bring appreciation of the arts to her grandchildren.

To ensure a more successful trip, I worked to prepare Morgan for the big day. We watched clips of the songs on YouTube, watched the movie when it fortuitously came on TV and prepared her own little red dress for the show.

Fortunately, through a great ticket deal I was also able to get a seat for Ryan at the Schuster Center. Justin stayed home to do very boyish things like decorate Christmas cards with glitter glue.

Ryan and Morgan both enjoyed all the sights of the Schuster Center Wintergarden. We saw the famous Rikes Christmas windows in the lobby and then went upstairs to make ornaments with beads all before catching the main attraction from our seats in the Loge.

Let me just say something about the plot of Annie. The 1982 movie doesn't capture the fact that Annie takes place right at Christmas. A newly elected Democratic President (FDR) is trying to figure out how to fix the economic messes he inherited from his predecessor (Hoover) while his aids are worried about mounting national debt and international issues (Hitler). Sound familiar?
Maybe all we need is a precocious redhead to stop by and sing "Tomorrow."

It took three decades but my mother-in-law finally got to see Annie with a new generation of appreciative children. Let's just hope they keep their appreciation to Cats and not cats.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Happily Ever After

Last weekend, in a brief moment of remote control ownership, I tuned into basic cable and saw a very disturbing show called "Rich Bride, Poor Bride." I watched two episodes and didn't see what I would call a "poor" bride--although actually, after they blew their budgets, both brides probably did end up poor. One couple spent about $75,000. They talked her out of having live peacocks at the reception.

That makes me think about my own much simpler but very nice-for-Farmersville wedding over a decade ago. In many ways it was a disaster.

We were engaged for a year and a half; we had plenty of time to plan but fates conspired against us.

By the time we got to the week of the wedding, we had buried two people on the guest list and paid our respects to a distant uncle. One of the people we lost was my husband's grandfather who died Monday, we had visitation Wednesday, funeral Thursday, rehearsal dinner Friday, wedding Saturday. How his grandmother handled it is beyo…

I Know What you Did Last Summer

Good gravy (I have taken up saying this since Husband doesn't curse and I was the only one to blame for our household's junior potty mouths), it's Fall. And I still haven't shown you the before/during/after pictures of my kitchen update.
Before: greenish "marble" laminate counters with a yellowed fluorescent light cover--only one bulb working.
Carbon dating and a close examination of the many knife cuts evident on the laminate surface have led scientists to believe these counter tops date to the early Aquarius period or possibly late Happy Days epoch.
To save money on the almost airline-like add-ons involved in having a big box home improvement chain do this project, we removed the counter tops ourselves. I use the term ourselves very loosely, of course, in that Husband did it.
I thought we were well-prepared. Fortunately, they did not have a box on their billing slip for We Pulled out the Oven and OMGOMGOMG!! The workers even kindly looked away while I frantical…

Weekend Plans Cut Short

I haven't been at my current job long enough yet, apparently, because people still make the mistake of asking me what are you doing this weekend? I say that it is a mistake to ask me about my weekend plans because that question is supposed to be followed with an ordinary answer like going to see a movie or yardwork.
But when you ask me about my weekend plans, you're likely to get an answer like this: well, we'll be pretty busy getting ready for our pig auction. Husband has to give haircuts to 100+ pigs.
Yes, you read that right. Pigs get haircuts. Husband is grooming them for the pig auction (we call it a sale) that we are having on Saturday. In the market for a pig? Head over here.
Pigs have short, coarse hair that in days of old was used to make brushes (and maybe still today). Husband and other pig farmers clip the hair of the pigs shorter to make them look more appealing to potential buyers, who in this case are 4-H kids and parents looking for a hog to take to the count…