The Thee Ah Tur
I hate the theater. Stagnant sets with countless limitations. Bad actors, poorly amplified, yelling their lines. Actor-Singers giving every song the opera treatment, which is even worse than theater. Scripts that are unimaginative, old and predictable, plodding along like a 20 year old K-car from Chrysler, if it starts at all.
On the other hand you have a festival. Says so right in the word ... FESTIVE!!! Good times are guaranteed by the very title of it! Now make it a festival of corn. Yup! You guessed it ... a corn festival! Nothing bad about corn.
This year both events took place during the same Friday evening. What would you choose if given the choice?
I wanted the corn fest. It is a long standing tradition. It has corn roasted on an open fire, dipped in a pitcher of melted butter with the husk already arranged for you as a handle to grip whilst enjoying the bursting flavor from the tender kernels as they explode happy times in your mouth. The dripping butter down your face is a badge of honor as you share this time, wearing a hairy smile of corn silk amongst friends and strangers of like mind.
Helen wanted the theater.
I went to the theater.
A compromise and torturous act self inflicted. I was the bigger man (although I complained like an annoying little barking dingo the entire time). I sat and squirmed for 2 hours to please someone else. I became selfless to spread a little joy in the life of another.
As I tried to tolerate a mediocre performance of Don Quixote - Man of La Mancha, all I could think of was that I am Bobbio - Man of No Cornya. I would have welcomed the Spanish Inquisition.
Good thing the corn festival ran for 2 nights and I managed to have a few ears on Saturday.
On the other hand you have a festival. Says so right in the word ... FESTIVE!!! Good times are guaranteed by the very title of it! Now make it a festival of corn. Yup! You guessed it ... a corn festival! Nothing bad about corn.
This year both events took place during the same Friday evening. What would you choose if given the choice?
I wanted the corn fest. It is a long standing tradition. It has corn roasted on an open fire, dipped in a pitcher of melted butter with the husk already arranged for you as a handle to grip whilst enjoying the bursting flavor from the tender kernels as they explode happy times in your mouth. The dripping butter down your face is a badge of honor as you share this time, wearing a hairy smile of corn silk amongst friends and strangers of like mind.
Helen wanted the theater.
I went to the theater.
A compromise and torturous act self inflicted. I was the bigger man (although I complained like an annoying little barking dingo the entire time). I sat and squirmed for 2 hours to please someone else. I became selfless to spread a little joy in the life of another.
As I tried to tolerate a mediocre performance of Don Quixote - Man of La Mancha, all I could think of was that I am Bobbio - Man of No Cornya. I would have welcomed the Spanish Inquisition.
Good thing the corn festival ran for 2 nights and I managed to have a few ears on Saturday.
posted by RJK at
1:34 AM
2 Comments:
I think accompanying your lady friend to the Thee-uh-ter was the least you could do after sleeping through her distress calls a short while ago.
Shazam! :)
You might want to ask her to cultivate a Gay Boyfriend/Husband who'd volunteer to go to these things with her. I have one (Dan, though I don't see him so often since we moved to the 'burbs), and our next door neighbor has one too.
Funny! You were not the only one to make that suggestion!
I'd rather she cultivate corn and not torture anyone else with her whims of thespian adventures. Only 4 to go this season and her sister is definitely doing one of them.
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