There are really good plays, good play, okay plays, and plays that make me want to kill someone.

Friday night I went to a really good play. Stone In His Pockets. A lovely Irish play, about two guys who are extras on the set of an American movie being filmed in Ireland. Very simple. No set to speak of, just a beautifully painted floor and backdrop, a rolling costume rack and some wooden crates. And no props. Just the two guys (wonderful actors), playing 14 parts. They slipped effortlessly in and out of all these characters (some male, some female) and all these different accents, and they were so charming and engaging, and I really loved the play.

This afternoon, I went to a play that made me want to kill someone. All I could think as I walked out after was "There's an hour of my life I'll never get back". It was a musical for kids that I got roped into going to because I know several of the people involved. I'm not the biggest fan of kid's theatre to begin with, not being a kid any longer and not having any kids to take with me (maybe it'll change when my nephew is old enough). I've seen some wonderful children's theatre, but I find most of it to be trite and operating on the premise that children are so dumb you have to give them the most watered down mush. And then there's musical theatre. Again, not my favorite form. Don't get me wrong, I can get totally swept away by a really good musical, but there are so few really good musicals. And this one was truly dreadful. How could some of these very nice people go so horribly wrong?

The experience wasn't helped by the fact that I was surrounded by badly behaved children. A little girl behind me who kept kicking my seat, even after her mother told her repeatedly to stop it. And I kept turning around to glare at her. And the little girl next to me (about 3) who was scared by the dragon near the beginning of the play and cried really loudly and then she and her mother jabbered away, again really loudly, in some foreign language for about 20 minutes before she had the good sense to take the child out of the theatre. And the little girl in front of me who kept climbing over her mother to the seat on the other side of her, and then back again to her original seat, and then back over her mother again. And the other little girl behind me who kept shouting "I'm queen of the world". (What the fuck?)

Seriously people, maybe now would be the time to start teaching your children how to behave in public places like theatres. Otherwise, they're going to become 25 year olds who behave this way, and trust me, I'm far less polite to badly behaved 25 year olds. They usually get a menacing glare or two before the requisit "Shut the fuck up, Asshole!" Mommys and Daddys, it going to be your fault that your little darlings get spoken to this way in another 20-some years.

Well, I feel better for getting that out of my system.

The other major activity of the weekend was going to a concert last night where T opened up for an old buddy of his, whose song writing and singing I really love. I turned Marcie on to this guy last year and she came to the gig with me and we sat right up front and whispered "ooh, this is my favorite song", song after song. It was so great. And afterwards, we were helping T load out all his instruments and the cute lanky guitar player who plays with T's buddy said "Hey T, what's with all the beautiful women helping you hump your gear?" and Marcie and I giggled like school girls and, when we got outside, wished we'd had the guts to reply "Hey, we'll hump your gear anytime."

Now it's time to enjoy a quite Sunday night with a big pan of home-made Enchiladas and a good book.