The Dame fishes for shoes from audience members
Complimentary tickets in the corporate suite were too good to pass up, at the request of my mom and brother, so tonight I breezed through the 100 miles back to Cincinnati for an evening show. The drive home was spectacular as dusk and I fell upon the skyline.
I laughed at the crowd-picking antics of this Aussie, even snorted here and there – which is an indicator that I can’t help but admit I enjoyed myself.
But there were a few moments where the fat or old jokes just seemed thin and tired. Formula comedy works though, and by the second half, the pacing was spicy enough to keep me from wondering what the time was on the phone.
Back to formulas, how easy it must be to get the skinny on a city and inject it into the stereotypical punchlines. At one point, I felt like I was listening to class humor, but the class that was picked on was not present.
These tickets may have been free, but were not as cheap as the jabs.
It was interesting, seeing the show in a comfortable room behind the audience with bottles of wine and the sound piped in. It was a privileged feeling, albeit detached like a barn from the house.
Continuing along a metaphor, was this show some right of passage, akin to being awarded a toaster oven? Some feather to put in the gay cap with friends of Kenny?
Eh, I’m being too obtuse and jaded. I really did enjoy myself.
Maybe it was because the laughter of my company was not muffled by the theater. A portrait of a small, diverse group genuinely grateful for the experience.