Monday, June 19, 2006

Can You Hear Me Now?

Monday night we hopped into the car to drive North off-island to see a performance of The Lost Colony. We weren't Lost Colony newbies -- we tend to see the show every four or five years, and figured it was a good time to see it again. The last time TinyTuna went, she was 3rd grade-ish, and now that she lives for the theatah, we thought she'd enjoy it.

Perhaps even more fun than the show was the hour-long backstage tour. From watching the crew assemble the set to visiting the costume shop, rehearsal hall, and seeing lots of backstage wonders, it was a kick. We also learned that the show was very color-coded. Lots of color in the costumes meant happy, excited settlers ready to voyage to the New World. But drab browns and grays meant unhappy, depressed settlers wondering what the hell were they thinking?

The basic story has remained the same over the years, but we noticed some definite retooling of the script this time around. It seemed more historically based with a noticeable rise in the number of Elizabethan soliloquies, which was fine by me, but I thought a bit risky, considering the audience. There was less shtick and comic relief this time around, which was also fine, but made for a more "should we take notes?" kind of performance and less of a hambo gnawing the scenery show, complete with "Woohoo, check out those Indian babes" numbers.

One group of people I wanted to become permanent members of the Lost Colony were fellow theatre goers, whom I have lovingly nicknamed The Twizzler Eating Morons. The Twizzler Eating Morons sat directly in front of us and consisted of two people over the age of 40 (generously, I'll call them "adults") and two people under the age of 10 (kids). The kids were relatively well behaved, so let's just move right on to the adults.

Keep in mind that although the show is performed in an outdoor amphitheater, it has real seats as if it were a standard concert hall. There is a stage and lights and real live actors. The whole shebang. This is not a concert in the park deal where you yak about baseball stats or washing your car while somebody Blows in the Wind half a football field away.

In the midst of the First Act, while Queen Elizabeth and Sir Walter Raleigh were having a heated Elizabethan discussion about sending settlers to The New World, the mother of the group reached into her bag and whipped out the HUGEST bag of Twizzlers known to mankind. It was economy sized. It was super-economy sized. It was a bulk purchase enough to last several decades of Halloween. THAT HUGE. Sadly, of all the things it was, what it wasn't was open. Not to be deterred, the woman jonesing for Twizzlers took to the bag ... WITH HER TEETH as if she were a rabid rabbit (say that three times fast).

Gnaw Gnaw
Tear Tear Tear
Gnaw Gnaw Gnaw some more
rattle rattle rattle rattle rattle.
Chomp chomp.

Not to be outdone, the father of the group reached into his COOLER and whipped out a beverage. With a SssssssHHHHWOOOP it cracked open. Although it was darkish in the audience, I'm absolutely positive that crack had the distinctive carbonated twang of cheap one-syllable summertime beer (Hamms, Pabst, Bud, etc.). He was hap with a capitol Pee.

The twizzlers got passed back and forth and forth and back again amongst the lot of them, pleasing The Twizzler Eating Morons no end. But then Queen Elizabeth was presented with a peace pipe, and a deadly cloud of loud confusion settled on top of The Twizzler Eating Morons.

Queen Elizabeth: Prithee Sir Walter, what shouldst I care for this?
Sir Walter Raleigh: I hear tis good for the vapors.
Queen Elizabeth: I HAVE NO VAPORS!

Child: (to her mother) What are the vapors?
Mom: Good God, DO NOT ASK ME. I don't know these things.
Dad: What's the matter?
Mom: Vapors. Something about vapors. Wants to know about VAPORS.
Dad: (halting beverage consumption and speaking to the mother as if she were a slow dull child) No! No! No! He gave her tobacco.
Mom: I KNOW he gave her tobacco. I'm not stupid you idiot.

GreenTuna: (Eyes rolling out of her sockets and down the aisle)
TinyTuna: (Smirks smirkingly.)
GramTuna: Shakes her head sadly, wondering what this world is coming to.

At intermission the sold-out house whipped out their cell phones as if they were a synchronized drill team. If only the Lost Colony could have borrowed a phone, maybe they wouldn't have been so lost afterall...


Bozoette said...


I actually had a bit part in The Common Glory, a similar extravaganza in Williamsburg VA, but at least it was long before the cell phone era -- unfortunately, it was not long before the soda and Twizzler era.

nk said...


"hey, lady, TEETH are not TOOLS!"

*and a million other tids and bits she does not yet know*

mensch71 said...

Methinks I was with you the last time the Lost Colony was visited by the Tuna Clan. I'm assuming that the Gram-Stare-o-Death was not successful in turning the morons into toads?

Miss you guys. Lots of rain here.

Travestine said...

"Twizzler Eating Morons" is SO the name of my next rock band.

Anonymous said...

Hey, nice! I really enjoyed that conversation! Vapors? Who'd have guessed it would be those.

joe b said...

I played Sir Walter at the Lost Colony a couple of years ago. The audience generally behaved themselves that summer, but it was pretty common to hear the loud chomping of popcorn throughout the show. To be fair, the Twizzler Eating Morons have less to hold their attentions this year, although I have heard that Indian wardrobe malfunctions are happening more frequently this summer. Too bad something didn't pop out and shut them right up that night!