OZ-some!

Monday

In real life, we spend about ninety two percent of our marriage with me yelling at Jim for falling asleep during “Jeopardy!” 

And then asking for subtitles so we can understand what the other person has just mumbled/said.

While we still  need a language interpreter, we’re keeping the hours of a Kennedy on Coke.

We scheduled a month’s worth of activities into one night last night, fighting sleep as though we were fighting the injustice of having a Marjorie Taylor Greene in office.

Paying dearly now but it was worth it.

After a fabulous Italian dinner, we were absolutely blown away by the performance of “The Wizard of Oz “ and I promise to stop the contrived humor by my next or my tenth paragraph.

There were flying monkeys!!

But then the considerate parents took them back to their rooms.

Okay.. I’ll stop.

The spectacular musical stayed true to the original movie, and it actually made me overlook some of my continuity issues with “Wicked.”

This show had “The Jitterbug” song that was filmed but cut from the 1939 movie. It had changing sets that defied gravity, and it had a sassy street wise ghetto  Glinda in a mini glittery cocktail dress.

There was a guy who constantly shadowed Toto, which made me wonder why a third actor was in the scene with Dorothy and Mr. Marvel until Jim explained to me that the actor was a professional puppeteer that manipulated movements.

Oh.. and speaking of movements, we can’t even look at Toto or the dozens of dog sculptures around the ship without thinking about our poor house sitter/dog watcher. Jim even has a dream about the “absolutely filthy “ butt of our poor Luke.

He had to explain the concept of puppeteering to me,  and I had to explain all the double entendres to him, like, “I keep picking it up and putting it back in again “ and the Tin Man’s orgasmic reactions to being oiled up.

Not all of my cynicism has sexual roots. I have legit questions too, like didn’t the Wicked Witch ever take a shower or get caught in a sudden down pour?

Again.. the only thing that would have made this show more authentic is if it included the abuse Judy Garland suffered at the misogynistic hands of the filmmakers who insisted she subside on chicken broth, coffee, and one hundred cigarettes a day. 

I’m going to give your eyes a much needed break and report more later.