Cheese and Rice!

Only in Southern Utah do I go out on a Friday night to do a v & the b and find the coffee shop ready to close "unless you are here for Bible Group."  

I was not there for Bible Group.  

I did not even know that Bible Group was happening... but they hadn't busted out their guitars yet, so I stayed.

I know it's going to seem like I am making fun of religion, but I am not.  I respect religion.  I might however insert a few wisecracks about hypocrites.  I fucking love hypocrites.  They do all the work themselves.  

Southern Utah.  Mostly Mormons.  And Mormons don't drink hot caffeinated beverages and they don't drink alcohol.  This was going to be interesting.  (Please refer to title of blog.)  Turns out there was plenty of coffee to be found and there are liquor shops.  (Just don't buy that beer they sell at grocery stores:  that stuff is Barley-Flavored Soda dressed up for Halloween.)

It also seems like the Mormons don't like The Cussing.

 I get that.  I totally get that.  I will potty-talk in private, if that's how it is.  (The Mormons apparatly have a list of approved curse words, on which I have yet to get my hands... but with just a tiny bit of googling, you can access a bunch of Mormon Mommy Blogs and several of them list the words they used when emotionally pushed to expletives.  My favorites are "Cheese and Rice!," "Shittake Mushroom!," and "Farts and Darts!")

 One of the plays I saw this summer had taken great pains to turn a mildly provocative script into what they call "Family Friendly."  I get that.  I totally get that.  I believe in bringing kids to the theatre... but, here's my deal with kids at the theatre:  

The kids might cry / The characters might curse.  

That's the deal.  We all know it up front, so no one can get mad.  Actors: Calm down.  Babies cry; it's not going to ruin your moment.  And Parents: Read the play before you come if there are specific things you don't want your kids to see.

But I don't have the box office pressures that producers have.  Theatre producers have (among others) two big concerns:

 1.)  Making Art

2.)  Making Money.  

I do not know what the ratio of one to the other is, and surely it differs a great deal from one theatre to the next.  I do know this:

A little part of me dies every time a word in someone's play is changed.

Many times playwrights agree to have their words changed.

But many times their words are changed without permission.

That, I do not get.  Don't get it.  Don't like it.

Imagine if I had access to your Facebook account and I ran in there erasing a word here and there and replacing it with something I liked better.

You'd be pissed.

You'd be P.O.'d.

So, the play I saw ended up quite successful with all of its obscenities and questionable terms turned to "Gosh Darnits" and "Oh Fooeys."  Lots of kids came and loved it.  Everyone loved it.  I understand that some audience members returned three, four, eight times to see it repeatedly.  And yet...

Once, a priest (a priest!) made a special request about the content in the show.  If this one little gesture could be removed, he would buy an enormous amount of tickets and bring the bunch of adolescent boys.  The gesture in question was an indication that one of the characters had an erection.  The character was also an adolescent boy.  The character then sings a whole song about his erection (though the word "erection" was never used.)  

It's a pretty big part of the plot.  

Now, I don't have kids, so what do I know, right?  But if I am lucky enough to have a little rugrat of my own, I hope to heck that I would not prevent him from seeing a play about a boy going through what boys go through.  And I hope --I know this is the fantasy-parenting that I am often guilty of presuming for myself-- that if the young Son-Of-A-Weirdo that I have brought into the world wanted to know more about what that character up on that stage was going through, that my little puberty-boy could ask me!  And that I would answer!  And not make him feel embarrassed!  I don't know much, people, but if the theatre is not a venue for discussion than my life is a charade.

Secondly --and this happened while I was in the audience-- at the start of the performance, two women got up from their seats in the front row howling complaints as they stormed, torturously slow, to the exit at the back of the theatre.  I couldn't hear what they were saying and I assumed one of them was mentally disturbed and the other was her guardian.

Actually, they were offended by the pro-gay button on one character's costume.

So, I was wrong.  They were both mentally disturbed.

In this trembly time of political persuasions coating every comment on-line and in person, the topic of homosexuality is as hot as ever.  Of course I want to use this opportunity to voice my opinion, too.  I will leave it at this:  Actors:  Calm down.  Bigots cry; it's not going to ruin your moment.  And Bigots: Read the play before you come if there are specific things you don't want your narrow mind to see.    

If you are a religious bigot, I have nothing to say.  I don't have to.  You do all the work yourself.

Perks is on Sunset in St. George, UT.  Great coffee with all the light, low-fat, and non-dairy options you can imagine.  The staff was really friendly, especially because I came in with only 20 minutes before closing and set up camp.  Free wifi!