by Will Bailey
Bravo! Bellissimo! Some other Italian word! What’s that? I’m supposed to say these things after the performance? Nonsense! I want the world to know just how thrilled I am to be sitting in great seats in a theater with a stage, lights and [gasp] ushers. Granted, this may not seem like such a big deal to most of you, but for me it’s a revelation. See, I was raised on movie theaters, which meant long lines, overpriced concessions, broken seats and sticky floors that claimed more of my sandals than I’m able to count. Oh, and then there was, you know, the movie. Most of which featured Mike Myers performing fart jokes, or $500 million worth of special effects performing fart jokes. But the theater, ah, the the-a-ter! At the risk of sounding like a completely insufferable New-Yorker-subscribing-upturned-nose-having-aesthete, I can safely say I have converted to The Church of Live Theater, which is ironic, because if you really think about it, church is live theater. Sure, this new obsession of mine is usually prohibitively expensive, but not if you go local, as in 100% organic small stage community theater productions. I know what you’re thinking: I’ve gone full hippie. But don’t worry, I’m still a barbarian in most other aspects of my life. For example, last night I ate half a pint of ice cream in my underwear while watching a reality cooking competition. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to writing my new stage play: Nailsbails Outloud. It’s a one act play comprised almost entirely of fart jokes.