Taking A Stand: I saw a musical and I’m still a man
Time for confession: My name is Duane Sherrill and I saw an off-Broadway musical. And, what’s worse, I liked it.
Yes, I braved the throngs of Dasani-sipping yuppie princesses to actually take a seat at TPAC recently to see the musical “Moving Out.” For those who haven’t heard of it, the musical is an adaptation of Billy Joel tunes which tell a story which seems to be a mixture between “American Graffiti” and “Deer Hunter.” Hey, I figure Billy can use the money for his present rehab. Must have been tough being married to Christy Brinkley all those years.
Of course, I went to the play knowing I would catch it from my friends, most of whom view such events as patently effeminate. I still haven’t heard the end of going to see the Academy Award winning movie “Chicago” even though I was accompanied to the movie by two, count them, two, girls. Seems like even though there were show tunes sung during the film, I would have some insulation from insults seeing I did go with females.
There’s just something about show tunes which get men nervous. We just don’t like people suddenly bursting into song for no apparent reason. Of course, this is from the same sex which leave, shall I be politically correct and say “safety seats” in between them and their friends at movies. Just look next time you’re at the movies. If there’s two guys sitting together, they’ll be a seat between them generally. With three guys, the safety seat is optional. All us guys know the rules and violation is frowned upon whether you’re 17 or 70.
So, it was with this fear of being outted by my fellow macho men that I attended the musical with my wife and her sister recently. See, again I’m seeing a marginal event with two women in hopes of insulating myself.
A quick census of the area revealed about 90 percent of the people there were women, mostly short-haired women if that has any meaning. The remainder of those in attendance were guys who had, like me, been talked into attending the event by their wives or girlfriends. The guys all had that look about them, like when a guy goes to a beauty shop to get some kind of fancy haircut, all the time hoping none of your friends walk by and look in.
Hey, guys are brutal on other guys when it comes to the effeminate. Call it homophobia or just sheer fear of the “X” chromosome, but we tend to portray being effeminate as the worst kind of male shortcoming. There may be places where it is accepted wholesale, but Warren County isn’t one of those places.
With that said, I have to admit the musical I saw was quite enjoyable and the dancers were talented, and yes, I would see it again. Now granted, this had a live rock’n roll band playing the whole time so it wasn’t exactly “Rent” or “Cats” or some other play where they make up the lyrics as they go along.
The only thing that was a downside was the inability to make any noise during the event lest I be “shushed” by 500 short-haired women in semi-formal attire. I wanted to yell out “do Piano Man” but checked myself, seeing this wasn’t the Exit/In.
Instead, TPAC is a classy place, a place where people talk about their stock portfolios and drink sparkling, white wine while musing over a piece of impressionist art during intermission. The sheer fear of accidentally passing gas in a place where you could most assuredly hear a pin drop at times had me on my best behavior. This all means that while crossing the Broadway barrier I still ain’t even close to approaching the classy line.
Duane Sherrill is a reporter for the Standard. He can be reached at 473-2191 or by e-mail at news@southernstandard.com.