There Once Was Music on MTV On This Day in 1967, The Emmy for best comedy TV series is won by The Monkees. Good heavens. Okay, okay, I really liked the Monkees. I saw every single episode, and for a while, had every one on videotape. I collected all the reprints of the albums and even went to see the reunion concert (albeit without Mike Nesmith, who was my favorite -- save the Texas prairie chicken) so I was just goofy over that show. And it was a cute manufactured show about a manufactured rock band who actually went on tour, so kudos to them, for crying out loud. Does anyone remember the New Monkees tv show that was on for about five minutes in 1987? Oh, the HAIR. Yeah, I liked that one too. I even had their record for a while. Probably got rid of it, but hey, it was good studio pop-80�s fun stuff. And Marty was oftentimes in a kilt, which the 16-year-old version of me thought was the bomb. Oh, wait, I�m still all about men in kilts. Anyway, I spent all weekend scaling scaffolding and ladders and non-drivable cherry pickers to paint the walls and eventually the floor for Hair, and as in any creative-theatrical type situation (and I�m sure both poolagirl and awittykitty can attest to this) there was no shortage of potential do-gooders who felt the need to critique my every move, while not being helpful in the least: Why do you have Pogo and not Schmoo?: Pogo and Schmoo (from L�il Abner) are two very diverse creatures in two different comic strips, and Pogo was actually a philosopher, whereas Schmoo said his own name over and over, if I remember correctly. You need to have a pot leaf/the male-female symbols/a picture of Bob Dylan/something about JFK/etc. on the wall: Then get up there and paint it yourself. Oh, I can�t do anything like that. I have no talent: STFU then. Can I help paint?: Sure thing. Go get the white paint and paint blops that look like this. (shows person example) Oh, I can�t do anything like that. I have no talent: Paint the steps black. Oh, I don�t want to get my hands dirty: STFU and go away. That was my day for about 12 hours on Saturday, and I was one pissed off American, but when I went back in on Sunday, damn but those walls (and what had been finished on the floor) looked fantastic. And Pogo is currently my favorite. However, the director gave me a list of about 20 more things she wants to see on the walls. I also left on Sunday because all there was left was about a dozen paint-by-number white blops and the chalk lines to be erased, and I�m not doing that when there are other volunteers to help and I�ve already put in over 40 hours (on top of my regular job). Community Theatre? Phfffft. Never again, I say. Already I�ve got another yahoo on my email, asking me to paint a 10 x 30 backdrop for a church even though he has no space to paint it in, and because I asked the question �where did you think this was going to get painted?�, he�s already assuming I�m agreeing to do it. No way. I don�t even volunteer to do art for my own church, thank you. I�d rather serve cake or knit or just generally boff my Hubster. 15 years was long enough. I�m done. Does that sound callous of me? Just because I�ve now discovered I�d just rather pay the ticket price and see a play rather than have anything to do with it technically whatsoever? Nah, I don�t think so. It�s just part of this thing called life . . . Electric word, life. It means forever and that's a mighty long time. Come back, the 1980�s . . . you left your poster child behind.
|