Posted by admin - 16/12/11 at 05:12 am

I’m a buffoon. A cretin. I freely admit it. I try to have a modicum of culture, but there are somethings that just don’t register with me.

I just don’t get the ballet.

I went to a junior college production of “The Nutcracker” this weekend. I try and get all of my culture in small doses, by the way. I’m also going to attend a high school one act play rendition of “Rent”, and my Kiwanis Club version of “Glengarry Glenross.”

Anyway, it was my first experience with ballet. I sort of knew the story from its many appearances in pop culture and cartoons, so even without the appearances of the Carebears, I could sort of follow the story. Here are some of my notes from the performance.

  • Everybody’s at a party, including two cats and two maids. The maids dance, apparently overcome with the ecstasy of cleaning.
  • Everyone drinks, and time stops. We can’t go on until it starts again. Please let it start again.
  • Little boys dance in puffy pants. I can almost hear the therapy bills pile up for the kids’ fathers.
  • The party is crashed by a stranger in black, who I kept expecting to sing “Ring Of Fire”.
  • The stranger brings out a giant present, with two life-size dolls coming out to perform. Unfortunately, neither one is a stripper.
  • Clara gets her Christmas present, a nutcracker. Which by the way, sucks as a gift. Even if it’s anatomically correct.
  • The nutcracker takes on the mouse king. Since this is Texas, the battle takes place in a steel cage. A squad of soldiers chase a horde of mice around the stage. Strangely enough, the two cats are useless.
  • Intermission. I go to the concession stand for frito pie and nachos.
  • The Sugar Plum fairy dances. A side note in the program indicates the Sugar Plum Fairy is low-carb, and Atkins friendly.
  • A chorus of kid angels come to the stage. Angels who are children unnerve the Hell out of me. If Angels are the souls of the deceased, and the angels all appear to be children, there’s a bit of unsavory backstory there that I don’t want to know about.

At this point, I lost interest. Luckily, a woman behind me had appointed herself the designated ballet translator, speaking in a loud tone to her family for the entire last half hour of the show.

“Yeah, that’s the Sugar Plum Fairy, She’s dancing around to show something. I think she’s hungry. And the guy with the spandex pants is her boyfriend. Although if it were really cold, I don’t think he’d have that bulge. And now this is where all of the candy dances around. This is some old, funny looking candy. Why don’t they have some dancin’ Twizzlers, or some big orange guys dressed up like cheez balls?”

I figured at that point I should probably just take a nap, and wake up for the ovations.

— Reid Kerr still giggles at the word “nutcracker.”

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