Optimist in a Pink Fluffy Tutu

On Tuesday of Thanksgiving break, my daddy had tickets to a hockey match and was traveling to St. Louis to see the game; having received a notice from the Fabulous Fox Theatre in St. Louis about rush seats available for Mamma Mia, which started on Tuesday, I decided to go with him and try to get seats for the opening night performance. I talked Codi into going, and on her first student rush experience, we managed to get two orchestra seats!

A big fan of the movie, the show was everything I thought and wanted it to be: silly choreography, ridiculous situations, and bubbly, feel good Abba tunes. Kaye Tuckerman was fantastic as Donna Sheridan (wonderful voice!), and just a few notes into his main song, Christian Whelan blew me away with his smooth, controlled voice as Sam Carmichael. Also of note, Donna's best friend Rosie and Tayne, portrayed by Mary Callanan and Alison Ewing, were a hoot and a half and clearly the life of--not only the party--the show.

All in all, the show was a great time out, but that's not what this blog post is actually going to be about. While the main story was unfolding on stage, a little drama was taking place back in my corner of the theatre.

Let's start with this: when going to the theatre to see a show, people are paying money to hear the characters on stage... and not to hear a whiny preteen singing along with every song. Normally, I try not to let these things bother me. I get it. She's clearly a fan. I enjoy singing along with Mamma Mia songs myself, but there is a time and a place for that (for me, it is when I'm driving around in my car--by myself--not disturbing anyone). But this girl? She didn't waste anytime and joined in on the first song signing loudly, bouncing in her seat, and ignorantly (perhaps blissfully?) unaware of all the heads turning her way and giving her only what I can assume to be death stares. Unfortunately immune to strangers' disapproving glares, she kept it up. She sang the second song, the third, and the fourth. Upon the start of the show's (and this girl's) eighth number, Codi sighs and throws another glance in the direction of the girl. Now I'm getting angry. I am fortunate enough to get to go to the theatre quite often, but I usually don't get to take my little sister (going to see a Broadway show with her was a big deal!). This was supposed to be a special evening out for us to spend time together, and it was being ruined by some ill-mannered girl. I had had enough. Fortunately, I was sitting on the aisle seat, so I slipped out and walked to the usher standing at the wall. I told her that a girl was singing very loudly in our section and would not stop, i.e. distracting everyone in the area. The usher said, "Sorry, but I cannot do anything about that. You need to go speak to the House Manager." So, I walked down the hallway to the House Manager's station. She was speaking with someone else, so after waiting a moment, I explained what was going on to her. She said she would take care of it and to show her the area, so I lead her to our section. After sitting back down and whispering in Codi's ear "I tattled," I felt a moment's panic because the girl was not singing (there wasn't a song playing then). I glanced over and saw the House Manager standing in the back, both waiting and watching. When the next song started, the girl started back up, and I saw the House Manager start over to her. I noticed them speak, and then the girl did not sing along for the rest of the act.

While this should be the end of the story, it gets better. Come intermission, an old man sitting four seats down from me and basically behind the singing girl tapped her on the shoulder and said, "Hey, why did you stop singing? I thought it was lovely. Those actors are just so hard to understand, and you were really helping me out!" The girl's mother (sitting the row ahead of her for some reason) then turned around and said, "You know what? You should go tell that stupid usher that! She came over here and told MY child to stop singing! What makes her think she can do that? It wasn't bothering anyone over here, and she thinks she can make her stop? What can they do? Throw us out? Please! We paid to see this show!" There are so many things wrong with what she said:

What makes your child think she sing during the show?
The House Manager can tell her to stop. It is kind of her job.
If it comes to it, they can ask you to leave.

And most importantly:
It was bothering pretty much everyone except you, your child, and this weird old man.

You should be happy to know that upon her saying "It wasn't bothering anyone," I actually raised my hand and said, "It was bothering me and that's why I told the House Manager, and if you start singing in the next act, I'll go tell her again." I don't know if that lady heard me, being in mid-rant and all, but others around me did and nodded their heads in approval. I didn't notice her singing in the second act (Codi said she heard a few phrases every now and then, but nothing too bad), so I guess it was worth it to go tell, even if that means missing a whole musical number (and one of my favorites from the show).