Man, that was dull
Mar. 4th, 2006 02:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfsLast night, Yamaraashi-chan had her first public performance with the KidSounds Northwest group. I had originally heard that it was a performance to raise money for Ronald McDonald House, and that it would be hosted at the local public theater, which belongs to the public school system. All well and good. KSN is an after-school group and, yeah, they rehearse in a Presbyterian Church, but there's a lot of intermingling between the chorus and the public school next door and there didn't seem to be much religious bias in the setting.
Then I saw the title: A Celebration of Gospel. Oh, great.
I decided to leave Yamaraashi-chan in the chorus anyway. She needed some after-school socialization, she needed a good outlet for her desire to sing, and she desperately needed improvement with that singing. The chorus got all three, and I didn't want do disappoint her. Heck, I grew up singing in synagogue, went to a High Anglican church school for high school, and ended up a raving secularist anyway. I don't mind. The prevalent culture is what it is; I'll just have to train my kids in media savvy when it comes to the propaganda of their neighbors as well as their televisions.
We headed out the door to find dinner. The feral neighbor's kids, one of whom is also in the same chorus, were outside playing. First, the kid in the chorus says, "You like my new playclothes?" He's wearing his uniform. It's two hours before the performance, the ground is wet and muddy, and he's wearing his white shirt with red tie and cummerbund on his Huffy.
Then, as the girls get in the car, one of the younger girls-- I'd say four or five-- asks, "Why are Kouryou-chan and Yamaraashi-chan in car seats?"
"Because we're going somewhere."
"But why do they sit in car seats?"
Knowing the neighbors as I do, I then said, "Don't you have car seats?"
"No." Why was I not surprised.
Our restaurant of choice was booked solid, so we went to an alternative, and then over to the concert.
It was bad. It was almost a church revival without the preaching and altar call. The lead singer was some has-been local celebrity who's worked with the Seattle Opera and some other gigs, but who's obviously just coasting along on his career. The local volunteer chorus was only so-so; I think I would have preferred a straight-up church choir. Only the kids were really good, and that's because Paula has worked those kids over to get them perfectly in tune. The micing was lousy, the engineering desperately needed work.
The thing that really annoyed me was that the lead acted as if everyone in the audience not only were Christian, but that they all went to the same church services he did and listened to the same Gospel radio that he did. Omaha was a choirgirl, but a Methodist; she said she'd heard of only a few of the songs sung that evening. And believe me, High Anglicans have a lovely hymn book that sounds nothing like what I heard last night.
The audience was a bit scary; I had thought that the higher-the-hair, closer-to-god look had died, but apparently not. Then there were the people who raised their hands every time someone said "Amen." Among the acts on stage, there was a classical trio of two flautists and a cellis and, I'm sure they sound okay in chamber but their starts were rough and they kept falling out of each others' tempo. And at one point the lead singer had eight children come on stage to sing "Cthulu loathes me, this I know, 'cause this book it tells me so." Just kidding, it was "Jesus loves me, this I know, 'cause the Bible tells me so." I was reminded of the viciously Darwinian process by which religious indoctrination techniques are introduced into the community meme pool and disappear just as rapidly, leaving only the most effective in play.
The kids were good. Yamaraashi-chan was not nearly as squirmy as she was last time, and didn't try to stand-out on stage. When her two songs and the encore was done, we gathered her and her friend (whose parents are also quite pagan and secular) out of there and went to our cars to get home. The kids went right to bed.
And I must be a vicious sadist. I dragged two friends along. They actually sat through the whole thing. I hope they can scrub it all out of their brains afterward. FallenPegasus actually went along; when we got home, we played multiple rounds of Gimme The Brain and Uno to numb the experience.
Then I saw the title: A Celebration of Gospel. Oh, great.
I decided to leave Yamaraashi-chan in the chorus anyway. She needed some after-school socialization, she needed a good outlet for her desire to sing, and she desperately needed improvement with that singing. The chorus got all three, and I didn't want do disappoint her. Heck, I grew up singing in synagogue, went to a High Anglican church school for high school, and ended up a raving secularist anyway. I don't mind. The prevalent culture is what it is; I'll just have to train my kids in media savvy when it comes to the propaganda of their neighbors as well as their televisions.
We headed out the door to find dinner. The feral neighbor's kids, one of whom is also in the same chorus, were outside playing. First, the kid in the chorus says, "You like my new playclothes?" He's wearing his uniform. It's two hours before the performance, the ground is wet and muddy, and he's wearing his white shirt with red tie and cummerbund on his Huffy.
Then, as the girls get in the car, one of the younger girls-- I'd say four or five-- asks, "Why are Kouryou-chan and Yamaraashi-chan in car seats?"
"Because we're going somewhere."
"But why do they sit in car seats?"
Knowing the neighbors as I do, I then said, "Don't you have car seats?"
"No." Why was I not surprised.
Our restaurant of choice was booked solid, so we went to an alternative, and then over to the concert.
It was bad. It was almost a church revival without the preaching and altar call. The lead singer was some has-been local celebrity who's worked with the Seattle Opera and some other gigs, but who's obviously just coasting along on his career. The local volunteer chorus was only so-so; I think I would have preferred a straight-up church choir. Only the kids were really good, and that's because Paula has worked those kids over to get them perfectly in tune. The micing was lousy, the engineering desperately needed work.
The thing that really annoyed me was that the lead acted as if everyone in the audience not only were Christian, but that they all went to the same church services he did and listened to the same Gospel radio that he did. Omaha was a choirgirl, but a Methodist; she said she'd heard of only a few of the songs sung that evening. And believe me, High Anglicans have a lovely hymn book that sounds nothing like what I heard last night.
The audience was a bit scary; I had thought that the higher-the-hair, closer-to-god look had died, but apparently not. Then there were the people who raised their hands every time someone said "Amen." Among the acts on stage, there was a classical trio of two flautists and a cellis and, I'm sure they sound okay in chamber but their starts were rough and they kept falling out of each others' tempo. And at one point the lead singer had eight children come on stage to sing "Cthulu loathes me, this I know, 'cause this book it tells me so." Just kidding, it was "Jesus loves me, this I know, 'cause the Bible tells me so." I was reminded of the viciously Darwinian process by which religious indoctrination techniques are introduced into the community meme pool and disappear just as rapidly, leaving only the most effective in play.
The kids were good. Yamaraashi-chan was not nearly as squirmy as she was last time, and didn't try to stand-out on stage. When her two songs and the encore was done, we gathered her and her friend (whose parents are also quite pagan and secular) out of there and went to our cars to get home. The kids went right to bed.
And I must be a vicious sadist. I dragged two friends along. They actually sat through the whole thing. I hope they can scrub it all out of their brains afterward. FallenPegasus actually went along; when we got home, we played multiple rounds of Gimme The Brain and Uno to numb the experience.
