So, lately I've been talking to an ex of mine again. I saw her at the show last night and we decided to hang out tonight. So I rode the train downtown to the school lofts to meet up with her tonight. We then headed to Alumni Hall to see a musical.
Let me preface the rest of the story with this: you know how you start talking to an ex again and for a brief period you remember that she was pretty cool at one point and assume that maybe she could be cool again? Or, failing that, at least you could probably get laid? Well, that's what was going through my head tonight, weighted more towards the at-least-I-could-probably-get-laid side.
Anyway, so with that thought in mind, I took a deep breath, tried to calm my anti-hippie sentiments and be more open minded, and allowed myself to actually pay for a pretty famous musical called Hair.
Just after I had handed over my five dollars, the girl tells me "Oh yeah, (random dude she's dating who I don't care enough about to remember his name because both he and his conversation are about as meaningful and exciting as watching linoleum) is meeting us here." God dammit, woman! Why couldn't you have told me that thirty seconds ago! At this point I'm annoyed because I now know I'm not going to get laid and I just wasted five dollars that could have been spent on beer on this now futile attempt.
But, having paid my money, I decided to go ahead and, again, despite my rampant anti-hippie sentiments, go ahead and watch the play. Boy, was that a mistake. Ever wonder where that stupid Age of Aquarius song came from? I know I didn't but now I know anyway. It was filled with trite references to sex and drugs that were obviously meant to freak out the establishment. Unfortunately, it isn't 1968 and I'm certainly not the establishment, and I'm also pretty sure that I've done more drugs in my time than all the kids in the cast combined, so there was absolutely nothing shocking about it at all. In fact, all it did was reinforce my hatred of hippies by reminding me that my parents' generation is, almost in entirety, a generation of sellouts who only followed the counter-culture doctrine because it was cool at the time. Two things could have saved that play: some form social or political relevancy or an overarching theme of nostalgia designed to provoke activism. It had neither. The only attempt at such things was a note in the back of the pamphlet talking about how the play was relevant again because of the cyclical nature of politics. Sorry, kids, it's obvious that y'all weren't buying that, and neither was I.
Oh, and I didn't even stay; rather than face the rest of that dismal play and then go out for drinks with my ex and whats-his-face (where I would have certainly begun to inceasantly mock that guy and the rest of my ex's dull, insipid friends once I'd gotten a bit lubricated) I opted to be nice for once and left after the first act. Yeah, I'm lame.
Let me preface the rest of the story with this: you know how you start talking to an ex again and for a brief period you remember that she was pretty cool at one point and assume that maybe she could be cool again? Or, failing that, at least you could probably get laid? Well, that's what was going through my head tonight, weighted more towards the at-least-I-could-probably-get-laid side.
Anyway, so with that thought in mind, I took a deep breath, tried to calm my anti-hippie sentiments and be more open minded, and allowed myself to actually pay for a pretty famous musical called Hair.
Just after I had handed over my five dollars, the girl tells me "Oh yeah, (random dude she's dating who I don't care enough about to remember his name because both he and his conversation are about as meaningful and exciting as watching linoleum) is meeting us here." God dammit, woman! Why couldn't you have told me that thirty seconds ago! At this point I'm annoyed because I now know I'm not going to get laid and I just wasted five dollars that could have been spent on beer on this now futile attempt.
But, having paid my money, I decided to go ahead and, again, despite my rampant anti-hippie sentiments, go ahead and watch the play. Boy, was that a mistake. Ever wonder where that stupid Age of Aquarius song came from? I know I didn't but now I know anyway. It was filled with trite references to sex and drugs that were obviously meant to freak out the establishment. Unfortunately, it isn't 1968 and I'm certainly not the establishment, and I'm also pretty sure that I've done more drugs in my time than all the kids in the cast combined, so there was absolutely nothing shocking about it at all. In fact, all it did was reinforce my hatred of hippies by reminding me that my parents' generation is, almost in entirety, a generation of sellouts who only followed the counter-culture doctrine because it was cool at the time. Two things could have saved that play: some form social or political relevancy or an overarching theme of nostalgia designed to provoke activism. It had neither. The only attempt at such things was a note in the back of the pamphlet talking about how the play was relevant again because of the cyclical nature of politics. Sorry, kids, it's obvious that y'all weren't buying that, and neither was I.
Oh, and I didn't even stay; rather than face the rest of that dismal play and then go out for drinks with my ex and whats-his-face (where I would have certainly begun to inceasantly mock that guy and the rest of my ex's dull, insipid friends once I'd gotten a bit lubricated) I opted to be nice for once and left after the first act. Yeah, I'm lame.
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[Edited on Nov 20, 2004 8:45AM]