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This Day in My History

George Washington's
Rules of Civility
and Decent Behaviour

38th:   In visiting the sick, do not presently play the physician if you be not knowing therein.

Yesterday's Entries

2000: Room With a View
 Groggily Yours
2002:  The Long Wait
2003:  To Busselton and Back Again


by Patricia Cornwell


The debate....
(wait a minute...is that entertainment???)


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I'm a proud

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I almost caught The Green Monster today, but my person wouldn't let me off that damn red thing I'm attached to.

Sheila Videos

("See Sheila Run")
("Meet Barkley")
("The Green Monster")
("Sheila's Tongue")


1 October 2004

I'm trying to decide if I liked Hairspray or not. 

We went to see the Tony-award winning musical last night.  It's a high energy, upbeat show with a good message about people learning to accept everyone for who they are, but the message begins with a fat girl (Tracy) that nobody likes, and her fat mother who has hidden inside her house for years because she's ashamed of how she looks.

The fat girl just wants to dance and she wants to be on a TV dance show (like American Bandstand, circa 1962).  She eventually gets on the show, despite the machinations of the blonde Barbie-esque bimbo and her mother and she not only becomes the most popular, but also wins the heart of the town hunk, who sees the person underneath the fat.

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At the same time, there is a racial prejudice line, because the "negroes" aren't allowed to dance with the white kids, so they have their one show a week, "Negro Day," which is Tracy's favorite show.  She's determined to have all of her black friends dance with all of the white kids.  She and everyone else is arrested during a protest, but since it's a musical comedy, everything comes out well in the end--the black kids dance with the white kids, Tracy wins "Miss Hairspray," the blonde bimbo makes friends with her, and Tracy wins the heart of the hunk.

In other words, everybody lives happily ever after...and the dancing goes on.

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I guess what bothered me was the hurtful words, against both Tracy and her mother because of their fat and against the black community.  I know it was crucial to the plot, and in the end everybody was won over anyway, but it just grated on me.  Maybe I wasn't in the proper mindset.

I gave it a good review--because it was a good show, but I'm still bothered by the dialog.  And I think I'm bothered more by the fact that it bothered me.

I sat next to someone who works in the theatre box office who, I gathered from   her comments about the show, isn't as theatre savy as you'd think, given her job.   But we had a lovely chat and she told me all about her pets--a horse, 2 dogs, 2 cats, a chicken and 2 potbellied pigs named Max and Charlotte.

She positively adores her potbellied pigs and told me about how she happened to choose Max when he could fit in the palm of her hand.  She told me about the tricks they do, and how well trained they are.

I thought about those pigs when I was at the dog park today.  Ms. Sheila decided to become an obstinant toddler.  We had been there an hour and it was a very good day for her.  She had 5 different dogs to play with.  She had the green monster to chase.  She fetched the tennis ball over and over again.  She was played out and it had come time to lie down and rest.  Usually my signal that it's time to go home.

Only today she decided she wasn't going to leave.  All the other dogs were gone, the Green Monster had gone away, but she was determined she was not going to leave the park--just like a child who doesn't want her time at the playground to end.

I know better than to try to chase her.  She may not be a working sheep dog, but she definitely has the herding genes and she absolutely cannot be caught if she doesn't want to be caught, unless I'm ready to take up rodeo roping.

I tried all the tricks I've learned.  I ran away from her, calling her to follow me, in my most excited voice.  And she would--at a distance.  The minute I looked at her, she'd turn her back to me and walk away.  In frustration, I finally left the park completely, which always brings her running to the gate, which she did, but as soon as I started back into the park again, she was off like a shot taunting me with her defiance.

We were there twenty damn minutes before she finally decided to deign to let me touch her and put her back on the leash again.  I think I need to start carrying treats in my pocket again and we need to have a refresher course on the "come" command!

Once she was on leash, she was docile as a lamb and ready to get into the car and head home for her after-walk treat.  Now she's collapsed in the family room and shows no sign of wanting to move.


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Hairspray poster on Times Square


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