EastGirlsWest

So The Husband has a work event, which involves both of us going to the theater to see this new show. I am aware the show involves song and dance. I am also aware that The Husband is NOT aware, and keep this information to myself.

At intermission, as soon as the lights go up, he turns to me in horror.

“We’re at a musical?”

Hee hee. One of several laugh-out-loud moments during Cry-Baby.

Angela has a great post about the creative minds behind this new production, and the UT review is spot on. It may be flawed, but the show left me loudly and proudly signing “Baby, Can I Kiss You With Tongue?” for three days.

It’s come to this. The earliest episodes of SESAME STREET have been released on DVD, with the following warning:

These early ‘Sesame Street’ episodes are intended for grown-ups, and may not suit the needs of today’s preschool child.

Virginia Heffernan’s take on the undiagnosed addictions and depressive disorders of the original puppet cast is pretty funny. I grew up thinking it was completely normal that Big Bird couldn’t see Snuffy, not realizing that he may have been exhibiting a serious social disorder. And so what if Oscar was a major cranky pants? To a five-year-old fan: funny.

Of course I understand that SESAME has evolved for good reason. Similar reasons, in fact, that kids no longer roll around in the way back of big station wagons without seatbelts starting at the age of three. And hey, remember when all our mothers smoked and ate soft cheese through pregnancy? Still, as someone raised on the original kids TV formula, I can’t help but feel a bit defensive of My First Media. The children’s shows on PBS today are excellent, but they’re a long way from the SESAME STREET of 1975. As Heffernan says, “Anyone who considers bull markets normal, extracurricular activities sacrosanct and New York a tidy, governable place — well, the original “Sesame Street” might hurt your feelings.”

Substandard urban housing, unchecked cookie consumption and a neurotic group of friends and neighbors? Perhaps the old school SESAME was my first exposure to reality TV.

“I am so behind on reading my New Yorkers. It’s bad.”

“Yeah, you really need to hit the unsubscribe button on that.”

“NO! I just need more time. And maybe a reading buddy. How about you start reading them too, and then we can discuss our favorite articles?”

“NO! I see what you’re doing here. You’re just trying to shoehorn more relationship into this relationship. I’m not falling for it.”

Below, an excerpt from a letter my neighbor recently wrote to the City of San Diego, department of Code Compliance. The house he’s writing about sits between us and him. A former one-story, three bedroom built in modest ranch-style, it now resembles an apartment complex, surrounded by asphalt, inhabited by college students.

By chance I was home when an inspector parked in front of my house. He apparently came to inspect the next door, eight individually leased bedroom, eight mailbox, 12 trash can, non-owner occupied, two kitchen, “single family” home mini-dorm at XXXX Dorothy Drive.

I overheard the inspector tell the owner that the property did not “really” pass inspection but that he would sign off on it anyway. The inspector also said he hoped that Code Compliance would not come back, and if so it would have to be dealt with then.

The owner of the mini-dorm stood in my front yard waving two thumbs up and danced a jig while the inspector sat in his car making this statement.

Of course, if you haven’t met the loser asshat who owns said property, then the image of him dancing a jig with thumbs up might not have the same effect on you that it does on me. Right now, that image makes me want to commit an act of violence.

City of San Diego Code Compliance: why the hate for the homeowners and love for the landlords? Why the lies and corruption? Do you just have a soft spot for garages converted to bedrooms, lawns paved into parking lots, and beer cans lying in a weed filled front yard? Are you swayed by the siren song of a hundred drunk sorority girls screaming, “I’m SO drunk!”?