.hazy winter sun.
.la boulange’s fruit, yogurt and granola.
.not being charged extra for soy milk.
.hot chocolate.
.walking.
.doggie day care.
.Dansko clogs.
.portable bamboo silverware.
.the flu shot.
.black.
.birthdays.
.the kindle.
.my green kindle cover.
.yoga.
.pedicures.
.gaudy jewelry.
.minimalism.
.the city.
Ryan and I went to see Fiddler on the Roof on Broadway tour last night. I wanted to like it - I have fond memories of seeing it on-stage as a kid, and Harvey Fierstein is supposed to be incredible - but I was less than impressed. I found Fierstein’s performance to be disappointing - from his voice to the way he played his character - and I felt that what should have been complicated themes of persecution, tradition and a changing world were downplayed to the point that the overall focus of the musical was lost. Ryan postulated that the film was MUCH better and - although he enjoys going to the theatre - in general he feels that well-produced films are a better experience than well-produced plays.
Considering that in lieu of MTV, SNL, Nintendo and other 90’s pop culture tidbits, I was exposed to Jesus Christ Superstar, Godspell, The Wiz, Hairspray and the like, I naturally disagree with Ryan’s premise. I don’t think that plays are ALWAYS better than movies - I’ve never seen the movie Fiddler on the Roof, and I’m sure it probably is superior - but I, personally, will likely always choose a live, in-the-moment experience over a manufactured one.
My family’s library of Broadway soundtracks and the immense number of hours spent in the theatre growing up certainly contributes to this preference but it’s more than that ~ theatre is, well, a spiritual experience for me. It’s one of my favorite things about life - the feeling that you’re almost eavesdropping in on someone else’s life, someone else’s story. That they’re sharing something with you in a personal way. I’m not going to make the case that all theatre productions are meaningful and profound. I’m not going to say that Les Mis is the same caliber as Legally Blond, of course. They’re completely different ends of the spectrum but they both have the capability to engage with you in an intimate way, whether it be through the heartbreaking honesty of Jean Valjean or through the earnest hilarity of Elle Woods.
I still vividly remember the first time I saw Les Mis, over ten years ago. I was at the Pantages with my family, sitting in the second row. We were close enough to see the actors spit, to be even more thoroughly drawn into what I would already consider one of the, if not THE greatest musical. It was heart-wrenching, raw, and no movie could ever compare to that.
Not to mention that for me there’s something beyond the actual production itself - theater is the thing my family and I did (and still do) together, it’s the thing Ryan and I do together, it’s a thing I love doing with friends. I have fond, fond memories of laughing through the Scarlet Pimpernel with my parents, seeing 42nd street with my Grandma, being completely blindsided by the nudity in Spring Awakening when I saw it with my sister (ok, that one’s not as fond…), queuing up for the cheap seats to Chicago with a friend in London’s West End, attempting to surprise Ryan with Les Mis tickets. My life’s memories are punctuated by theater experiences, so I guess I’m a little bit biased.
I don’t mean to imply that theater (as in film and movies) can’t produce a spiritual experience or fond memories. I just know that I, personally would be far more inclined to pick theatre over theater. And since Ryan and I need a thing we do together, I guess I’ll stick with it. Lord knows we can’t agree on what movie to see …
Who are you going to believe -Â me or your own eyes?
~ Groucho Marx
Are you going to believe what you see or what I tell you?
~ Willie Nelson
I’ve been facing down this conundrum  recently. It’s not an ignorance due to mis-eduction or lack of information. No, to be ignorant because you have insufficient resources is forgivable. This is an ignorance that people seek out for themselves regardless of the realities around them. This is opt-in ignorance.
Here’s one example that I’m sure will ruffle more than a few feathers but which has been in the spotlight recently: the vaccination “debate” (which isn’t even a debate in the medical community …). Never mind the research done showing no links between vaccinations and certain illnesses. Never mind that the study responsible for the MMR/Autism scare has been discredited or that the doctor who conducted it may have his medical license removed. No. Because this information comes from the medical community - which, by some strange (irrational) double standard is to be completely distrusted - such research is met with an air of “your facts are no good here.”
Of course, in this instance opt-in ignorance stands to (physically) hurt more people than just the person making the decision, which is especially dangerous. It’s a strange situation where reality seems to be incompatible with a previously-established belief system, and I won’t even delve into how many of these systems are constructed.
I can think of multiple other examples of such ignorance that assail me on a regular basis, most of which on the surface don’t appear to hurt anyone but the person opting in. Dig a little deeper, though, and I think you’ll find that opt-in ignorance tends to be a culture. It latches on and often gets passed down from generation to generation, creating a different kind of danger; one where our minds, our rationale and our ability to reason are at stake. This may not be a physical death, but a death of intellect is quite a blow none-the-less.
I remember the exact moment. I was about ten. I was riding bikes with my mom down the palm tree-lined street in our unnecessarily ritzy neighborhood in Florida. I say “unnecessary” because even a ten-year-old knows all Florida is is sand and heat and humidity and the eternal quest for air conditioning or water. But I surprisingly don’t remember those things. All I remember about this moment is telling my mom what I wanted to do with my life:
I wanted to be a TV newscaster.
Let me preface this by saying: I’m Christian. I emphasize this fact because what I’m about to espouse (like many of my beliefs) is not the predominant thinking within mainstream Christianity. So here’s the crux of my argument ~ I’ve stated it before but it bears repeating: America is not a Christian nation, therefore it is not the Church’s responsibility to foist its beliefs upon the nation’s citizenry, nor is it one church’s responsibility to foist its individual political convictions (should it have any) on its members. This is a commonly-held sentiment OUTSIDE of the religious community, yet for some reason too many people within it want to equate America with Israel: the chosen nation, a theocracy, a place where the laws of the Bible (or more correctly, someone’s INTERPRETATION of the laws of the Bible) should be the law of the land.
Of course, this is all common knowledge ~ one has to look no further than the nomenclature “the religious right” to see that we’ve accepted this religious infiltration into our politics and policy. (Check out “The Family” if you want a chilling look into just how inter-connected Evangelical leaders like Dr. Dobson and Pat Robertson are with the political underground.) I grew up in churches where it was no more strange to sign an anti-abortion petition in the foyer of the building than it was to sing choruses at the start of each service. And to many people within Christian circles, I would guess this idea is somewhat innocuous. But here’s the thing: IT’S NOT. By veritably preaching politics from the pulpit, the church is alienating anyone who might believe differently by essentially saying: “We are the authority on this subject, this is the correct thing to believe, and here is the correct way to vote.”