22
R. Linda:
The Blue Man Group were fab. I picked up Chloe and was late doing it. We got to the Charles Theatre just in the nick, and as we went to take our seats, everyone turned around and looked at us, clapping. We looked at each other, and, slightly embarrassed, we sat, only to realise there was a ticker tape that went around the theatre that announced we were late.
Seems they run these tickers with names of people in the audience (obviously, they get the names from the tickets, keeping track of the number you are issued so they know who is who and where you are sitting without you knowing it. Very clever).
We got to see (at intermission) how rowdy the fun can be. The tickers say things like, "George O'Connell is sexy today; George, stand up and wave to the people," George did, but he looked confused. Then, when he sat down, the ticker said, "Oops, sorry, George, we meant you are sixty today," it would name people and put embarrassing little things tagged to the end of their name. Was a giggle.
The group itself was innovative and entertaining as well as very blue. ;) There are three troops, and each one (I was told) has one of the original Blue Men in it. Their timing is astounding, and no words are said, but communication soars to the audience in what the Blue Men are doing, and it is funnier than anything I've seen on the live stage.
The theatrics are filmed backstage as well as on stage. Yes, there is a live video feed as well. There is also a lot of audience participation; if they don't have someone on the stage, the Blue Men are in the audience and having screaming fun with everyone. There is one skit where they throw balls (I think they are round marshmallows) into the mouths of the Blue Men, and one outdoes the others. This fella must have had 30 balls in his mouth, which he caught with precision and not too little ego, all the while not spitting out a one! In the end, when he does spit them out, it is gross but hilarious.
There is a small music combo filmed backstage the entire time, and it at first makes you wonder if it is a well-timed film or if they are real. They are real! They come out for bows at the end. The end of the show is all flying long toilet tissue rolls (which are huge), and you grab the paper as it comes over your head and send it rolling in front of you; things fall from the ceiling, and it is damn good fun. The coloured lights, the strobes, the music, it all hits with the Blue Men bobbing about the audience at the last, and a good time is in store if you should go. Just don't be late. ;)~
We have tickets for STOMP next week at the Steward Theatre, and they are a British group, so I should feel right at home.
At work, they have me working all sorts of strange hours. As I get used to one shift, suddenly, I be on another! I spent some time going to pubs or bars (as they are called here) to find out what was on tap for St. Paddy's Day, which I hear is celebrated most profoundly here.
Because I am an authentic Irish person, my editor thought it would be a nifty idea if I wrote up me perspective of St. Patrick's Day celebrations right here in the heart of the revolution! I have been researching the piece, and come Monday, I will live it (up), write it (up) and hand it to me editor with a grin.
Where I come from, it is hardly celebrated at all, and if it is, it is a day of religious and respectful reflection. We might even place a shamrock in our lapels, but that would signal to the Protestant population we are fair game, so no, we don't do that much in Northern Ireland. We don't have green beer back home, nor do we fill our jars and get roaring drunk. The norm is spent at mass, and maybe one or two lads will get together after for a liquid lunch, and it is back to work we go.
Here it be all green shamrocks and frivolity bordering on insanity. I be frankly shocked and slightly outraged that people of all backgrounds are suddenly Irish folk for a day. Maybe I should be flattered, but the terrible imitations of what people think we are like back home are a bit of a shocker. In truth, we don't conduct ourselves as people here think we do. St. Paddy's Day here is an excuse to get rip-roaring drunk, speak in bad Irish accents (ouch), and wear green to match drunken sick faces later.
Worship here would be of the porcelain bowl type, not in pews listening to Father Seamus reciting the story of St. Patrick and regaling us about how put upon the saint was after all, and oh not to forget the snakes, of which all reside in trousers now. Those come out mainly at night and probably give a lass or two a fright and a start. ;)~
I be sure the painted green faces, the rowdy drinking fests, the Irish jig music, and the jokes galore will have me wishing I was in a quieter place, like maybe DUBLIN! Now that place throws a bloody hell of a party! They have a parade, and all the Catholics get in the show, and there is Irish heel-to-toe, Irish reels (danced correctly), Irish anthems, ancient Celtic tunes, and oh begorrah me, the Uilleann Pipes! We all salute the Irish flag, and we oogle the lasses, but we don't get flaming knock-down drunk (in most cases). Well, most of us don't.
Here, it is all politics; not everyone is Catholic, and the Protestant population is in the mix wearing the green. Saints preserve us, me sainted granny would be rolling in her grave to know that politicians and Protestants were marching in a Catholic parade.
I will take pictures to send back home to shock and astound them, and perhaps hoist a jar or two, or three, to St. Patrick and hope to hell no one takes me picture and sends it back to the old country, as I party down with the Pols and the Proddys.
Gabe
Copyright © 2003 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
The Blue Man Group were fab. I picked up Chloe and was late doing it. We got to the Charles Theatre just in the nick, and as we went to take our seats, everyone turned around and looked at us, clapping. We looked at each other, and, slightly embarrassed, we sat, only to realise there was a ticker tape that went around the theatre that announced we were late.
Seems they run these tickers with names of people in the audience (obviously, they get the names from the tickets, keeping track of the number you are issued so they know who is who and where you are sitting without you knowing it. Very clever).
We got to see (at intermission) how rowdy the fun can be. The tickers say things like, "George O'Connell is sexy today; George, stand up and wave to the people," George did, but he looked confused. Then, when he sat down, the ticker said, "Oops, sorry, George, we meant you are sixty today," it would name people and put embarrassing little things tagged to the end of their name. Was a giggle.
The group itself was innovative and entertaining as well as very blue. ;) There are three troops, and each one (I was told) has one of the original Blue Men in it. Their timing is astounding, and no words are said, but communication soars to the audience in what the Blue Men are doing, and it is funnier than anything I've seen on the live stage.
The theatrics are filmed backstage as well as on stage. Yes, there is a live video feed as well. There is also a lot of audience participation; if they don't have someone on the stage, the Blue Men are in the audience and having screaming fun with everyone. There is one skit where they throw balls (I think they are round marshmallows) into the mouths of the Blue Men, and one outdoes the others. This fella must have had 30 balls in his mouth, which he caught with precision and not too little ego, all the while not spitting out a one! In the end, when he does spit them out, it is gross but hilarious.
There is a small music combo filmed backstage the entire time, and it at first makes you wonder if it is a well-timed film or if they are real. They are real! They come out for bows at the end. The end of the show is all flying long toilet tissue rolls (which are huge), and you grab the paper as it comes over your head and send it rolling in front of you; things fall from the ceiling, and it is damn good fun. The coloured lights, the strobes, the music, it all hits with the Blue Men bobbing about the audience at the last, and a good time is in store if you should go. Just don't be late. ;)~
We have tickets for STOMP next week at the Steward Theatre, and they are a British group, so I should feel right at home.
At work, they have me working all sorts of strange hours. As I get used to one shift, suddenly, I be on another! I spent some time going to pubs or bars (as they are called here) to find out what was on tap for St. Paddy's Day, which I hear is celebrated most profoundly here.
Because I am an authentic Irish person, my editor thought it would be a nifty idea if I wrote up me perspective of St. Patrick's Day celebrations right here in the heart of the revolution! I have been researching the piece, and come Monday, I will live it (up), write it (up) and hand it to me editor with a grin.
Where I come from, it is hardly celebrated at all, and if it is, it is a day of religious and respectful reflection. We might even place a shamrock in our lapels, but that would signal to the Protestant population we are fair game, so no, we don't do that much in Northern Ireland. We don't have green beer back home, nor do we fill our jars and get roaring drunk. The norm is spent at mass, and maybe one or two lads will get together after for a liquid lunch, and it is back to work we go.
Here it be all green shamrocks and frivolity bordering on insanity. I be frankly shocked and slightly outraged that people of all backgrounds are suddenly Irish folk for a day. Maybe I should be flattered, but the terrible imitations of what people think we are like back home are a bit of a shocker. In truth, we don't conduct ourselves as people here think we do. St. Paddy's Day here is an excuse to get rip-roaring drunk, speak in bad Irish accents (ouch), and wear green to match drunken sick faces later.
Worship here would be of the porcelain bowl type, not in pews listening to Father Seamus reciting the story of St. Patrick and regaling us about how put upon the saint was after all, and oh not to forget the snakes, of which all reside in trousers now. Those come out mainly at night and probably give a lass or two a fright and a start. ;)~
I be sure the painted green faces, the rowdy drinking fests, the Irish jig music, and the jokes galore will have me wishing I was in a quieter place, like maybe DUBLIN! Now that place throws a bloody hell of a party! They have a parade, and all the Catholics get in the show, and there is Irish heel-to-toe, Irish reels (danced correctly), Irish anthems, ancient Celtic tunes, and oh begorrah me, the Uilleann Pipes! We all salute the Irish flag, and we oogle the lasses, but we don't get flaming knock-down drunk (in most cases). Well, most of us don't.
Here, it is all politics; not everyone is Catholic, and the Protestant population is in the mix wearing the green. Saints preserve us, me sainted granny would be rolling in her grave to know that politicians and Protestants were marching in a Catholic parade.
I will take pictures to send back home to shock and astound them, and perhaps hoist a jar or two, or three, to St. Patrick and hope to hell no one takes me picture and sends it back to the old country, as I party down with the Pols and the Proddys.
Gabe
Copyright © 2003 All rights reserved
