Monthly Archives: March 2010

Bizarro

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I gotta write this down before I forget it. All right, all you Davids Josephs out there — interpret.

I’ve been in and out of consciousness since 1 a.m. I awoke with a start at 4:35 after having this dream…

I was at my Dinner Theatre. For those who don’t know, DT takes place in a large-ish cafeteria that also has a stage, so it’s perfect for that kind of show. The weirdness began immediately because:

a) I was sitting in the audience and not at the piano in the pit
b) There were no tables with food; only rows of chairs

So I’m sitting there with people I don’t know, enjoying the performance. Then, one of my 7th grade boys walks onstage to do his feature number, which is bizarre, because my middle school students aren’t even allowed to audition for the cast. As he begins singing, he is joined onstage by a band full of the weirdest-looking people I have ever seen. (Think Mos Eisley cantina scene from Star Wars.) They began playing behind this kid, and actually the sound was good. They harmonized with him. But I was still shocked that this 12-year-old boy brought his own band and didn’t ask or tell me. I sat there, embarrassed and doing a slow burn.

Then the movie started.

It was a montage, beginning with scenes from The Wizard of Oz. Then it flashed to other scenes, each one darker and more gruesome than the last. (Think original Willy Wonka movie, bad-acid-trip boat scene: Not a speck of light is showing, so the danger must be growing. Are the fires of Hell a-glowing? Is the grisly Reaper mowing?) The singer and his band were nowhwere to be found now, but the movie montage went on and on and on and on…

After what seemed like an eternity, I got up and walked to the back of the room, ready to storm out into the hallway, go backstage, and stop the madness. I ran right into one of the guys from the kid’s band, leaning against the wall. All I could do initially was stand there and gawk at his face. (Think Hervé Villechaize morphed with Marty Feldman. Except tall.) Anyway, I told him how utterly disgusted I was that he hijacked my production, not to mention using copyrighted cinematic material without permission. He nodded and apologized; then, this exchange:

Him: It’s all in Jacksonville.

Me: What? What’s in Jacksonville?

Him: I thought maybe you and me…

Me: Oh my G…

*jerking awake and looking at clock*

And there it is. Nightmare on Sandusky Street. And now, the shower, the bakery, the school house, the 3-hour tech rehearsal — and hopefully, no creepy folks wanting to go to Jacksonville. Ugh, I need me some coffee.

FO

Photo credit: CBS

Waxing nostalgic III (and a rant)

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Isn’t it funny how the strangest things remind you of times past? I was at the pharmacy yesterday morning, and passed a wall full of bags of Brach’s candies. Once again, I was taken back to my childhood, when, if Mavis and I were really good while out shopping, Mother would take us to the candy counter at F.W. Woolworth and allow us each to get a small bag of chocolates. Mavis almost always chose the M & Ms, and I alternated between the Brach’s chocolate stars and malted milk balls. Yummy on that last one. Anyway, it always brings back fond memories. We thought it was such a huge deal, getting that candy — a whole 4-oz. bag, all to ourselves and we didn’t have to share. Bliss.

It also reminded me of the crying shame of Brach’s selling out to Farley’s & Sathers (makers of cheapy treats like Chuckles and Now and Later), who changed the malted milk ball recipe and brought a wonderful confectionery era to a miserable end.

A few months back, I brought home a bag of “Malts,” as they’re called now, and ripped it open to enjoy them after not having had them for a long time. Imagine my disappointment. Flat-tasting malted milk crunchy things, covered in brown wax.

I sent the company an email. Told them I’d been eating Brach’s MMB since 1965, and did they not think I would notice the dumbing down of the recipe? I said that if I’d wanted cardboard covered in wax, I would have bought Whoppers.

Of course, I never heard back from them, and it’s not that F & S would do anything about it anyway. But honestly…do they think we’re stupid and can’t tell? Or is it simply a matter of not caring?

I pine for the days before corn syrup took over.

Happy Finkday! Let the madness begin…

Ya makes yer choices…

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…and ya lives with the consequences.

Yesterday afternoon, after my work for the day was done, I watched a couple of movies — and ate some junk food to go along with them.

Barf. I mean the movies were good (Up in the Air and Everybody’s Fine — both definitely get a 4-cheese rating), but the fact that I felt I needed to munch on everything from Oreos to M&Ms pretty much negated my 6-lb. weight loss over the last 2 weeks in one day. It felt like it, at least.

But hey, we’re back on the wagon today, so that’s all that matters. And what a wagon ride it’s going to be. Rehearsals straight into Dinner Theatre opening on the 26th, followed by leaving for New York on choir tour three days later. On Easter Sunday, however, the Fink will rest. And rest, and rest, and rest, and hopefully see my family.

But no more junk food for awhile. *bLArK*

Happy Monday.