Typhoid Family
No, not us. But did you know that there really isn’t a 24-hour echinacea store in the mid-Taconic Valley? I do, because the first thing I wanted to do once we got out of another wonderful performance of “The Nutcracker” featuring my two brilliant, vibrant, beautiful daughters as a Party Child and a Polchinelle was to find such a store and guzzle about a gallon of echinacea in hopes of counteracting the effects of having an entire family, clearly at death’s door and in no shape to be watching their daughter’s premiere as a reindeer, sneeze, cough, snot and sputter all over us throughout the two-hour performance. The second thing I wanted to do was burn my overcoat, which had been draped over the back of my seat and which was no doubt covered with several million viable viruses, waiting to come into contact with my warm, moist lungs. I threw it in the back of the truck and hoped freezing would help. Hey, I get that you have to be there. But maybe just one of you rather than the entire brood, all of them coughing, choking, and rattling Marley’s chains. And if all of you had to be there, take seats somewhere off to the side or in the back, where you wouldn’t be COUGHING ON MY NECK!
But, as I said, the girls were wonderful. Plus, we got to watch the rehearsal of the entire party scene, which put life to the phrase “going through the motions” — that’s just what the dancers did, rather than expend a lot of energy. It was quite literally a walk-through. Also got to see all the behind-the-scenes scenery assembly, prep for the snow, missed lighting cues, and everything else that goes on before a big show. Quite fun to watch.
People keep asking me, “So, you ready for the holidays?” Is it just plain rude of me to say, “Not in any way”? Do they actually want an answer?