High School Musical on Ice

September 21, 2007
Knoxville TN
Location: Knoxville Civic Coliseu
Event: Disney's High School Musical, The Ice Tour

There is a maxim often discussed with children and the ethically suspect that "Two wrongs don't make a right." Disney gallantly proved that statement and made it tangible by taking two unfortunate entities--High School Musical and Ice Capades--to create a program that causes more cerebral damage than either show alone could possibly muster; this suggests a new, more appropriate maxim that "two wrongs make one absolutely horrendous, life-crushing wrong." That one was required to pay upwards of $25 for this ordeal, which sold out so quickly that more shows were added to the run, proves another maxim, one regarding the birth-rate of suckers.

As we took our seats amongst screaming children, who apparently believed the real stars of HSM were going to be lacing up their skates, Disney kept us entertained with a "Pop Quiz" about the shows. Apparently one's ability to retain arcane trivia about juvenile pablum is cause for bragging, at least in our group; I only wish an ability to remember homework assignments or simple subtraction facts was as important. This quiz was actually the most fun I had all evening, as I provided answers to questions that I think would have greatly improved the shows.

Question: "What do Troy and Gabriella swap just before New Year's?" My answer: "Punches." Real answer: "Cell numbers."

Question: "What song do Troy and Gabriella sing at callbacks?" My answer: "Meine Tochter Nimmer Mehr, the Queen of the Night's aria from the second act of the Magic Flute, translated from the German to mean 'My daughter nevermore.'" Real answer: "Breaking Free." (You have to admit, I was close on that one)

Michael got to do a big eye-roll when the question was "What are West High's colors?" I shouted out "Turquoise and Aquamarine," at which point Michael said, "Dad, didn't you see all the red and white souvenirs?" Cue eye-rolling.

As the first example of the lack of creativity--or even apparent effort at same--by the HSM team, we found out that the West High's big rival is...(drumroll, please)...EAST HIGH! Doesn't bode well for the muse.

We're then told that "THE SHOW IS GOING TO START IN TWO MINUTES! ARE YOU READY?" I text Jodie "No. I'm not nearly drunk enough." (I have to text Jodie because, despite the fact that we are technically together, there is approximately 15 feet of screaming children between us). I then panic that I sent that message to the wrong number and one of our party guests' parents is going to be waiting for us with the police after the show.

So the lights go down, skaters dressed as high schoolers (remember how realistic the teenagers were in "Grease"? Imagine them skating) flood the arena, and the crowd goes wild. Some skaters are on bikes, others are on contraptions made to look like skateboards, most are in shorts and miniskirts, and you realize the inherent flaw in having a show set in New Mexico take place on the ice. Aren't these people freezing?

Just so we know who's who--remember kids, Zac, Vanessa, and Corbin are not really here--they are introduced as they come flying onto the ice. The crowd goes wild, particularly for "Troy Bolton." I'm momentarily cynically appreciating the social cues that lead children to scream for someone not famous playing someone famous, until I remember that we use the same psychology when we do our Elvis show in Turkey, Spain and even Knoxville, which I enjoy quite a bit. I'm justifiably humiliated by my hypocrisy.

Theoretical question for everyone: if a television movie that lasts about 90 minutes is performed on ice in 45 minutes but feels more like two and a half hours, is it longer or shorter than the original? They were booking through songs and blazing through expositions like nobody's business, but when I looked at my watch they had only been on the ice for 15 minutes! I have never prayed to be temporarily afflicted with ADHD so hard in my life, but seeing the show induced ADHD (if not outright psychosis) already, so it was a no-win situation. Fireworks, blaring music, approximately 20 skaters (Jodie informed me later that it only seemed like a hundred): there's nowhere to distract your attention to!

For those of you not familiar with the HSM plot--oh please, you've seen it a million times. Basketball player wants to woo a girl and sings with her to audition for a musical, then has to play tough so his friends don't think he's a wuss. Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story, Grease, it's all the same. HSM, though, didn't involve quite as much creative effort as, say, Shakespeare. In what I think is a brilliant maneuver, most of the music is ostensibly written by one of the show's characters, a teenager herself. It's hard to be overly-critical of this pap because you're thinking, "Well, it was all written by a teenager, and not all teenagers have the songwriting capabilities of, say, Debbie Gibson." I began fantasizing about writing a musical starring a 5-year-old child prodigy, with the question being, "Is this child really a prodigy?" All pressure for a memorable score is off!

Troy and Gabriella's big competition in the try-outs? A brother and sister pair who never lose auditions (although it is noted that no other pairs ever try out, and in this high school you can only audition for the leads with a partner, so they choose pairs as leads, as opposed to finding the best individual male and female leads, perhaps through a nationally televised talent competition, which is apparently the new casting method for Broadway). Why a brother and sister? Well, the female lead has to have a crush on Troy, so she can't be "partners" with her partner. The obvious solution to this is to make the male partner gay--he is in theater, after all, and has a fetish for "jazz squares"--but this is a Disney show, so it's her brother. Now, we all know that siblings never audition well together, as evidenced by Robyn and I failing in our joint audition for "The Sound of Music" as children. I'm convinced that we were never Von Trapps because Robyn mistakenly told the pianist that he was playing our song--"Jesus Walked this Lonesome Valley"--incorrectly, when he wasn't (the fact that we look awfully Mediterranean clearly had nothing to do with this casting decision).

Okay, so not only do this sibling duo always win parts even though their songs are unbearably cheesy (another good strategy for avoiding criticism of your music. Criticize it yourself as part of the show, recognizing that you know it's crap), but they also get to schedule audition times. Of course they do. When do they hold the callbacks? Well, West High apparently has a government official or similarly impaired individual scheduling their events, because it just so happens the state championship basketball game (against, again, East High, who apparently beat out North High to make it this far) is scheduled at the same time as the finals of the Math Decathalon (Gabriella's forte), so let's put the callbacks then too. Then we have a drama teacher who is apparently clueless that the school is playing for both the state championships in math and basketball at that moment and almost disqualifies our heroes for not being there on time (why isn't everyone support ing their team in the championship game? Apparently there's not much school spirit at West High). Fortunately, after Gabriella solves a mathematical equation in record time, winning the decathalon, another character causes a power outage, halting the basketball game, allowing Troy and Gabriella to race down to callbacks to sing "Meine Tochter Nimmer Mehr" (the highlight of the show for me) and win the parts. Then Troy races back to the court and makes a last-second shot from mid-ice to win the basketball game.

Yes, you read that last sentence correctly (you're still reading this? Are you a glutton for punishment? See if HSM The Ice Tour, aka HSM: The Ice Tour (can't use initials there.This is Disney!), is coming to your hometown!). They could not alter the story enough to even make this a hockey game, which would have made much more sense and might have led to some actual goals, as opposed to seeing men on skates trying to make lay-ups. You wonder how either team ever made it to the finals (perhaps North and South high students were all busy auditioning for school plays and had to forfeit). Also, I think Gabriella definitely had the inside track over Troy here: it's much easier to solve math equations on ice than try to play basketball.

Then it's intermission. I'm in a panic. They just did the whole freakin' musical! What's next, doing it again so we can appreciate the nuances we missed during the initial onslaught? Doing it backwards to create an existential question of whether it was even actually performed? Plus...IT FEELS LIKE WE'VE ALREADY BEEN HERE ALL NIGHT! I text Robyn to express my dismay and receive back the best line of the night: "Take heart. At least it's not Turning Point on ice!" My sister, in a spontaneous moment likely conceived while sitting on the couch watching TV, comes up with a better line than anything in an ostensibly planned and rehearsed production. Sigh.

Well, it turns out the second act is High School Musical 2, where the whole gang is hired by the brother/sister duo to work at their house/country club for the summer, and the big conflict is the sister's increased crush on Troy, singling him out for cushy jobs while his friends have to do grunt work. She also wants him to perform at the annual talent show with her instead of with Gabriella (doesn't everyone plan talent shows at their country clubs in the middle of the summer?). Drama abounds! Plus, it is now summer, so we have to play golf and baseball on skates instead of basketball. It looks easier to glide around the basepaths than try to hit layups, so that's a positive, but the skating skills of this troupe make the choreography worrisome: imagine if the zombies from Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video were swinging around baseball bats and you get the image. Put them on skates and there is pandemonium just waiting to happen.

Did I mention that the skaters weren't that good? Particularly Troy? Apparently it was more important that he look at least passingly like Zac Efron than that he be able to skate. This became glaringly apparent during the duets with the Vanessa wanna-be in which she is doing double toe-loops (or Saukows, or Axels, or cartwheels, or whatever they're called) and he's...hopping. Granted, having to skate while holding a (non-working) microphone, playing basketball, or pretending to swim is probably quite difficult (I never saw Dorothy Hamill or Sasha Cohen try to hit jumpshots during a routine!), but doesn't that give further creedence to the belief that this whole concept was wrong in the first place? On the other hand, I didn't see any skaters...other than Troy...fall. They actually had one good skater, or at least a guy who closed the show with a back-flip. I don't know where he was the rest of the night; apparently he was hired as the back-flip guy. But he landed it!

It was also important that Troy have good abs, since his clothes are ripped off--on the ice, BRR!--during the performance for a costume change. Of course, I was watching that thinking, "I thought that was supposed to happen to the Vanessa Hudgens character." It was not important that any of the characters be able to sing, or even speak, as the entire show (with one exception) was lip-synched. (The one exception was the teenage "composer" saying hi to Knoxville and asking for a title for her new song, which everyone had already heard and knew by heart. I yelled out "Meine Tochter nimmer mehr," but she didn't hear me. Cue another eye-roll from Michael.) Wouldn't you expect lip-synched vocals to be in tune? I mean, even Britney's vocals were on pitch. HSM The Ice Tour? Not so much. I will say, this group had their arm motions down. They waved around so much I wondered if they were supposed to be taking flight as well as skating.

Apparently the composer blew his creative load in the first show, as he discovered the concept of the Reprise in HSM2. First the song is played by the teenage writer; then messed up by the diva sister; then performed correctly by Troy and Gabriella; then sung by the entire cast to close the show. A three minute song accounted for almost 15 minutes of music. Well done! I did enjoy a line sung by the diva sister: "Iced tea imported from England; lifeguards imported from Spain; towels imported from Turkey; Turkeys imported from Maine." I'm thinking, 'You know, I was recently in Turkey. They're not known for towels. "Hookahs imported from Turkey" may have been scandalous, but BOY would that have made the show more interesting!

Oh, by the way, Jordan loved it. Isn't that the most important thing?

Christmas Memories

All I did this weekend was put up Christmas lights--no, not at the church, they have skilled people doing it there (and you can bet our pastor was not hanging any green himself!). Jodie has gotten us into a "Christmas Vacation" style competition with several others in our cul-de-sac (notice the classic movie reference and pointed avoidance of the current "Deck the Halls," which apparently sucks), so our past endeavors of putting up a Christmas flag have been expanded with lighted trees, a sleigh, wreaths, candle-lit windows, and--worst of all--lights strung on the house itself. Jodie used to not let me change our floodlights or clean the gutters--necessary activities--because she didn't want me 15 feet in the air; now I'm climbing about 30 feet to snap "icicle lights" on the arch over our front door with nothing to break my fall except pavement. Oh, and Jodie tells me "I'm right here," but when I start down the ladder she's inside decorating a ground-level Christmas tree! Which is probably for the best, since what could she do if I did fall? Hear my last words? They would almost certainly not be a declaration of love to the end; more likely it would involve screaming, curse words, and if lucidity was still present to any degree, a comment regarding "I hope this was worth it!"

Now, in addition to risking my life for a wife without the decency to stay outside and possibly hear my last words, or at least be prepared to call 911, I have to deal with all the cliches I was previously able to avoid--namely those involving how entire strands go out because one bulb has a bad attitude, and then you have to try to figure out which one it is, and God forbid there be TWO out, because then you're COMPLETELY up the ladder (a new metaphor which has more resonance with me than "up the creek"). All of the above were part of the package deal this weekend, including with two new pre-lit trees that had multiple bulbs out. Jordan in particular was always upset that we did not decorate more for Christmas, but did he help out when we finally take his suggestion? Of course not! Except to say, helpfully, "Dad, if you fall of the ladder and don' t die, are you going to try again next year?" What, he's testing my commitment, or resolve, or perseverance in the face of adversity? (I, obviously, responded, "No, son, I'll make you do it.").

I did have an extremely proud moment with him this weekend: his class was assigned a book report on a "holiday book," which I think was supposed to mean Christmas. Jordan, completely on his own, decided to read a biography on Martin Luther King Jr. for his report. I know I've told him that King is one of my heroes, but for him to go so against the grain in this fashion--well, it was awesome. Of course while working on the report he was leaning back in one of our new chairs, tipped it over, and cracked the top back beam right off, but given his recent work he was able to remind me of the importance of non-violence. (See, if he was doing a Christmas book I might have been forced to follow Herod's example and slay all boys between the ages of 9 and 7).

Why I'd Make a Better Boyfriend than Jack Bauer

From January 2007, aka Season 6

With the re-entry of '24' into our lives, Jodie has again been hinting at her crush on Jack Bauer/Keifer Sutherland. This crush seems to deepen and intensify with each passing season, starting (I imagine) as a private daydream in the first season before moving into more subtle expression in seasons 2 and 3 (primarily demonstrated in her obvious disdain for his romantic interests who were "not good enough for him") and then direct vocal expression in seasons 4 and 5 ("Now that's a man who can mow the lawn" being a prime example). Last night she informed me that Walmart had a great poster of Jack she wants for the house (I imagine the bedroom, though I did not let the discussion proceed to that point), which is a line I will not cross. If she were a teenybopper, posters are fine, but they are not appropriate for middle-aged wives (I do not use the descriptor "middle-aged" prejoratively, as it applies to everyone reading this email--some more so than others).

In the interest of defending my relative lack of adrenaline, testosterone, and "studliness," I would like to make the following ten observations about/comparisons to Jack:

1. Women want security. Women--and by this I mean Jodie--seem to think that Jack is strong, confident, and skilled enough to offer them this security. However, I would like to point out that I have not had a wife killed by a woman I was having an affair with, my children have not been kidnapped repeatedly in one day or caught in traps around wild cougars or taken hostage in airports, and no one in my family has been anywhere near gunfire, much less nuclear explosions. I think it is obvious that being around me makes a woman and her children much safer than being around Jack.

2. Jodie gets concerned by my desire for "alone time" and the fact that I am sometimes gone at night (e.g. for orchestra rehearsal, concerts, etc.). How would she feel if I had to "disappear" for 18 months to avoid prosecution from the Chinese government, or if that same government kidnapped me for 20 months, or if I had to repeatedly work 24 hour days without a chance to call and check in with her, much less meet her and the kids for dinner?

3. Where are Jack's loyalties? I can promise you that if Jodie wanted to kill someone who had hurt her, even though the president had pardoned that person, I would not shoot her.

4. Coffee is my strongest addiction. As opposed to Heroin.

5. Most of my friends are still alive, thus sparing me from PTSD due to repeated important losses (depression due to mid-life crises and feelings of inadequacy is up for grabs, though).

6. I love being around my children and spend much of my time playing with them, helping them with homework, and reading to them. Jack does not know where his daughter is, though that is probably for the best (see point 1).

7. My calls to Jodie are rarely interrupted by calls from the president (though his people may be listening in--we can't be sure).

8. My speaking range is more varied than husky whisper to strained shouting. One may be great for the bedroom, but you'd probably get the other during arguments!

9. Jack's wife can never collect life insurance, because the insurance company will never believe he's dead ("He could come back to life any minute now!")

10. Jodie thinks I'm lax on housework? Try arguing that with Jack: "I know you've worked 24 straight hours, been tortured repeatedly and killed at least once, had to shoot several people and lost your best friend either through death or double-cross, but these dishes won't wash themselves." And doesn't that negate Jodie's central obsession with Jack, that he can "mow the lawn"?

Steve, help me out on this! Jack's not as wonderful as these women seem to think! We don't have that difficult a standard to live up to!

My next task will be determining why I am a better catch than anyone who has "Mc" before their name (e.g. "McDreamy," "McSteamy," "McDreary," whatever else). As soon as I get my triple-grande nonfat Caramel Macchiato and put on some Nickel Creek...

Screenplay

Batman versus Spiderman

By Jordan and Michael Castellani

Batman and Spiderman face off, glaring at each other across the road. It's a dark night, rain pelting down on the heroes as they appraise each other and prepare for the epic battle. There is a sense of foreboding and destiny as the ultimate fight between good and evil prepares to commence.

SPIDERMAN: What's your name?

BATMAN: (angrily) No, the bad guy doesn't say that!

SPIDERMAN (more ominously): What's your name?!

BATMAN: I'm Batman (mumbles incoherently)

SPIDERMAN: I'm gonna throw you away!

BATMAN: You can't throw me away, I'm the good guy!

SPIDERMAN: I'm gonna throw you away! What's your name?

BATMAN: No, I'm gonna throw you away!

SPIDERMAN: What's your name?

BATMAN: I already told you. You're going to jail, Spiderman.

SPIDERMAN: No I not. I'm wearing a life vest.

BATMAN: You're wearing a what?

SPIDERMAN: I'm wearing a life vest! See?

BATMAN: Why are you wearing a life vest? There's no water.

SPIDERMAN: What's your name?

BATMAN: Stop asking me that!

SPIDERMAN: I gonna kill you.

BATMAN: No, I'm gonna kill you and put you in jail.

SPIDERMAN: No I not. I'm the bad guy.

BATMAN: I know, that's why you're going to jail.

SPIDERMAN: No I not. What's your name?

BATMAN: You're the bad guy. You're going to jail.

SPIDERMAN: I daily and daily the bubbles.

BATMAN: What?

SPIDERMAN: The bubbles! The bubbles!

BATMAN: What are you talking about?

SPIDERMAN: What's your name? I'm wearing a life vest.

BATMAN: Forget it. (turns and dejectedly walks away)

Fade to black

Credits

Based on a story conceived by my sons in the back of the car

How to start?

Robyn once said that I should start a blog, for those rare occasions where I have something humorous to say (I wish I could include "meaningful," but my meaningful quotient is even lower than my humorous quotient, so I won't delude myself with that hope) and I want to keep track of them. Then she and Steve started a blog about being newly married, and I felt guilt-tripped into getting something down. I'm compromising by making this private; at this point, I haven't invited anyone to read it, though I imagine at some point Jodie may get the honor...or chore. So I'll keep this as a place to include what I find amusing or important, with the caveat that amusing or important things may be neglected if I'm busy. Journaling didn't work for me, so I'm not real confident about keeping up with this either. But it's worth a shot.

A note about the title of this blog: in my multiple fantasies of giving speechs, I used to compose one to give the church thanking them for their love and support during Michael's surgeries (one of my future posts may include this non-existent speech). I became focused on the idea that we pray for miracles, then don't recognize them when they arrive because they come in the form of people. Which led me to the phrase (hopefully original, but maybe not), that we are the Instruments of God's Miracles. It also relates to a wonderful Randy Stonehill song, "Who Will Save the Children?"

"We are his hands, we are his voice
We are the ones who must make a choice
And if it isn't now, tell me when,
And if it isn't you, then tell me who will save the children?"

Given my love of guitar, this concept had particular relevance for me, and I've tried to think of myself in that way. Maybe not the best title for a blog that will primarily (hopefully) be amusing, but there it is nonetheless.

Now to begin, with some of my earlier writings that still exist in the ether(net).