This is Halloween

Halloween, for me, is like alcohol, football, high heels, Friends, and the Beatles - one of those wildly popular phenomenons whose appeal entirely escapes me. I guess I can understand why kids enjoy dressing up and walking door-to-door for obscene amounts of candy, although, as I recall, possibly because of my severe shyness, I didn't.

But many adults seem to love Halloween as much as, if not more than, kids, which really baffles me. What, if anything, am I missing? Should I just go wild (for me), buy a costume, wear it to work, and sit outside freezing on my front porch with a bowl of candy, waiting to be mobbed by costumed children? It would be an interesting experiment, I suppose, but one that I have no interest in launching. 

For one thing, although I'm not as shy as I was as a child, I remain socially anxious, and kids in large numbers frighten me. (Seriously!) For another thing, my neighbor, who apparently enjoys Halloween and with whom I don't really get along, takes over the front porch of our apartment house every year, so spending the evening with him just isn't going to happen. And did I mention that it's usually at least moderately cold and often raining in my neck of the woods (and that I have an increasingly low tolerance for cold weather)?

I guess I could blame evangelical Christianity (it's a handy scapegoat for whatever ails you), which indoctrinated me, via a Pentecostal church. for approximately six years as a young adult that Halloween represents Satanism, for my aversion to this day. I no longer believe that Halloween is evil, but I suppose, like most other things in life, it is what you make it.

For whatever reason, I'm basically a Halloween grinch. I don't get it, but I don't begrudge anyone else (of any age) the right to enjoy it. Costumes, whether scary, silly, or slutty, aren't my thing. My idea of celebrating Halloween includes wearing orange or black clothing, possibly enjoying a round of Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London," and buying a bag of candy for my workplace's daycare kids on the big day. 

 

That's about it, although I started a new tradition a year ago of watching scary movies (the Nightmare on Elm Street series) all weekend, which I usually don't do at any other time of the year. (For obvious reasons...like I live alone, I'm hyper-phobic and over-imaginative, and I tend to wake up freaked out in the middle of the night hearing strange noises after watching a horror film. But how quickly we forget the fear once it passes.) Despite my fear (or perhaps because of it), it was more fun than I expected. I think this is one Halloween celebration that I can get down with.

So, if anyone needs me, I'll be bundled up at home this weekend, frightfully watching the Halloween film series, and instantly regretting it once the daylight fades and things start going bump in the night.

Judging a Play by its Title

Last week the college at which I'm employed premiered its fall student-performed production...Charles Busch's Vampire Lesbians of Sodom. How's that for an attention-grabbing, eyebrow-raising title? (I confess I nearly fell off my chair the first time I heard it.) As you can imagine, it not only did both, it also generated multiple complaint calls and a few pieces of hate mail, a first for this college's performing-arts department, from members of the community.

The negative feedback fell along the lines of questioning the judgment of the production's director, asking why a family-friendly play wasn't selected, and generally featured the shrewish scolding of "you should be ashamed of yourselves!" One woman who called the dean of students' office to voice her complaint managed to get her point across despite her stalwart refusal to say the word "lesbians."

In response, the director spoke to local media to explain her reasons for choosing the show. She believed the farcical show served as a valuable learning tool for students who are preparing for conservatories and post-college professional acting work. Although the college performs a wildly popular touring children's theater show (acted by college students for local schoolchildren and families) every spring, not every performance can be PG in nature. Otherwise the student actors lack versatility, hampering their growth and potential future acting careers. With that objective in mind, students are given opportunities to perform something from every genre during their college tenures: dramas, comedies, tragedies, musicals, and, of course, children's theatre. 

The college and its performing-arts director have never shied away from performing gritty productions in the past. Previous shows include CHICAGO (violence and sexuality), In the Blood (sexual content), Dog Sees God (strong language and mature subject matter), and Triumph of Love (sexual innuendos). But nothing has ever matched the outraged response created by advertising Vampire Lesbians of Sodom in local newspapers and radio spots. People have walked out of shows from time to time, but because of offense or some unrelated matter? Who knows. But for the community to protest without even seeing the show points to one simple factor: the show's title. Any one of the three nouns on their own might evoke prejudices and discomfort, but the three words together in one title was enough to create an unprecedented brouhaha. 

The response both surprised and puzzled me, though, in hindsight, I guess it shouldn't have. Despite growing up in a small, very conservative town, I guess I didn't fully understand how small (and small-minded) my community is until a show like Vampire Lesbians of Sodom was advertised, and I had to remind myself that it is, in fact, 2014, not 1914. 

As a frequent patron of the arts, I appreciate the opportunity to cherry pick from a variety of different performances. Not every show captures my interest (I generally dislike strong language, violence, and crude sexual content), but if I'm not interested, I don't purchase a ticket. For me, it's as simple as that. I don't feel a need to contact the theater's box office and complain because an advertised show isn't one that I want to see. Why do some people do that? Why try to prevent someone else from performing or viewing a show just because it isn't what you like?

Art is subjective. I get that, and I like that. It means different things to different people, and it appears in different forms for different people, who have different tastes and different comfort levels. 

A protest of Jerry Springer: The Opera

As a former member of an extremely conservative Christian church that protested both abortion and Harry Potter with equal fervor, I understand the protests and the protestors. They see sin and they want to annihilate it. But that's precisely what I dislike most about organized religion: the self-righteous attitude of "I'm right, you're wrong, and I will let you know in every imaginable way how wrong you are." I have my opinions too, but I don't need to force them on anyone. If you don't like my blog, don't read it. If you don't want to see a performance, don't see it. Why be obnoxious and unloving (and unChristian) about it?

Interestingly, I just had a similar conversation with my mom last week. She dislikes a local radio program so much, it's so painful to listen to, that she considered calling in to express how much she hates it. I have to admit I was bewildered. Just turn the radio off! Why waste your time listening to it and complaining? Some people might like it even if you don't, was basically my response. 

Both situations made me wonder, Why does it bother us so much when something isn't to our liking? Well, because we're self-absorbed for one thing, and uncomfortable with things that we perceive as different, for another. We want the world (and everything in it) to line up with our likes and dislikes, and we want other people to follow the same religion and have the same culture, values, interests, and sexual orientation as us. If they don't, we judge, we criticize, and, inevitably, we protest.

So anyway, back to the original story, Vampire Lesbians of Sodom, which controversially opened last week, turned out to be much ado about nothing, for me, anyway. (If I really wanted to be punny, I could say that, despite its title, it was all bark and no bite, but I doubt my readers, if any, would stand for that nonsense.) For those who could look beyond the title, the show's actual content was fairly harmless and inoffensive (maybe two F-bombs and some sexual innuendo) to most people. In fact, it was entertaining and enjoyable, with great acting, choreography, lighting, and sets. 

Was it for everyone? No, but what in this world is?

Falling for Autumn

Among the pumpkins - fall 2011

I've never really liked fall. 

For me, it has always signified the end of summer (my favorite season) and the start of school (boo), and served as the harbinger of winter (hiss). The weather gets colder, my workdays become more hectic, days become darker earlier, and my local park's hours shorten, making it more difficult to go there, all of which prohibit adventure and encourage a six-month hibernation. And the anniversary of a friend's death looms once again. So, all around, not good things associated with this time of year.

But I'm trying to take the Pollyanna approach. There are some enjoyable aspects to fall (I keep telling myself), if only I can find them. At the top of the list, of course, is the beautiful scenery, covered in red and orange leaves. Fall also marks the start of local colleges' performing arts series and, of course, televised figure skating (my love of which is documented in Figure Skating: An Appreciation and Olympic Fever). 

Canned pumpkin puree returns to my local grocery store, which, for some reason, I craved like never before last fall, resulting in pumpkin pies, pumpkin brownies, pumpkin bread, pumpkin muffins, and pumpkin cheesecakes. This fall I've discovered the seasonal joy of pumpkin-spice bagels, which smell as scrumptious as they taste. Can pumpkin-spice lattes be far behind?

Also contributing to my newfound appreciation for fall has been surprisingly warm (for my neck of the woods) late-September and early-October weather, including a week or two in the 70s. My winter coat and boots remain in the closet, as do the scarves and mittens, my snow brush and ice scraper haven't left my car's trunk, and my thermostat has only been adjusted two or three times (so far), so it's a good start to the season, in my book.

Now if only I can start enjoying upstate New York winters...