"I'm a world renowned web columnissssssssssst!"
"I'm a world renowned web columnissssssssst!"
"Innnnterrrrrnet!"
"Internet! Internet! Internet! Interrrrrrrrrrrnetttt!
"I'm world renowned web columnist!"
As a world-renowned web columnist, I would like to think that I have a great appreciation for the finer things in life. Things like exceptional brands of wine, exotic foods, a good cigar or a pair of comfortable pants. But in particular, I have a great affection for the arts. I can't count the many evenings I've spent going to poetry readings, gallery openings, plays, concert recitals and monster truck competitions. Such scintillating experiences that have enriched my soul with the "cultural soup" that these various exhibitions have fed me. Despite my diverse interests in the art world, there is one aspect of it that I could never get a grasp of. A particular genre that for some inexplicable reason perplexes this humble web columnists noggin. I speak of…the musical.
What is a musical? It's a pretty simple question that has a pretty simple answer. A musical is essentially a play where all the dialogue is spoken through song. Every single word spoken throughout the entire performance is a song. All conversations, soliloquies, idle banter and narration is sung. No normal conversation, just singing! I'm sorry I don't get it. I understand there are many people out there who just love this stuff. Can't get enough of it, they could watch musicals all day long and that's great. But for me personally, when I'm invited to sit through one of these types of performances something in my brain just doesn't compute. I understand that the performers are doing a brilliant job of telling a story through song, hypnotizing the crowd with their melodious words and music, but for me it just doesn't make sense. I sit there in the audience and there's only one thought that seems to enter my mind. "Speak!" Please speak like a normal person. Why do you have to sing it? I don't understand why you're doing this. Just give me at least 10 minutes of normal conversation before you jump into that spot lit solo number about how you'll never get that farmer's daughter to fall in love with you. It's like I'm watching a group of people who suffer from some rare medical condition that makes them unable to recount the day's events without jumping into some song and dance number.
Joe: Hey Bill how's it goin'? What'd you do today?
Bill: Well let me tell you about it Joe! <cue upbeat music>
Joe: No not again, please Bill, do you have your medication on you?
Bill: "Well I went to the lake…"
Unknown Bystanders: "He went to the lake!"
Bill: "..to eat some cake…"
Unknown Bystanders: "Chocolate cake!"
Joe: Do we have to do this every time we get together?
Bill: "It was the best cake I ever aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate!"
Unknown Bystanders: "Mmmmm…..Cake!"
Bill: C'mon Joe, sing with me! "It was greeeaat cake and it was chocolate!"
Unknown Bystanders: "Mmmmm…Chocolate!"
Joe: Alright I'm out of here. Gimme a call when you've taken your pill.
Unknown Bystanders: "Cake! Cake! Cake! Cake! Chocolaaaaaate cake!"
Bill: (falls to his knees) "mmm…choclatey caaaaaaaaaaaaake!!!!"
Unknown Bystanders: "He loves cake!"
I can't be the only one who feels this way. Maybe I'm the one that has the problem. Maybe I suffer from a rare neurological condition that makes it impossible for me to grasp the concept of conversation translated through musical verse. If there are any scientists who are working on this dire mental condition at the moment please contact me at the address below and let me know if you have any results. Please do it quickly because I've been invited to see the Lion King next week and I'm going to need all the help I can get. Pray for me.
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or mail to:christian@boldopinion.com
