Yesterday after the matinee, I decided to walk across Central Park and go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art by myself (instead of meeting up with The Husband and My Kid to see the new movie “Bolt” with the voice of Miley Cyrus. My Kid needs to see it opening weekend. Me I can wait…) But, I didn’t enjoy myself, my feet hurt and I was tired and wandered around the museum without purpose. By the end of the day I knew I was coming down with something.
Monday is the traditional day off in the theatre world. I either have the standard “show-is-opened-and-now-I-have-time-to-be-sick” or I have the standard seasons changing cold. This week it got cold, really cold, find the hats and mittens, get the down coats out of the back closet cold. This too seems to trigger illness in the city because of all sudden changes from hot buildings to cold streets to damp steamy trains–YUCK get me out of here. Husband and I have noticed that since we moved to New York City the germs we’re exposed to cause much more spectacular illnesses than anything we ever experienced “Out West”.
So anyway, the show opened yesterday. It was fun. There were tiny personages in the audience who didn’t know what to make of what we were doing.
When My Kid was tiny, we took her to see the Big Apple Circus and she watched Justin Case the trick cyclist and acrobat ride the bike that kept falling apart and she took it in totally straight. She carefully watched a grownup do something, ride a bike, which she could not do but would learn someday. She had no history with bicycles. She did not know it was unusual for a bike to be ridden in a handstand, or turn into a unicycle. Adults laughed. My kid did not.
It’s tough to be the one to introduce a child to the concept of theatre.