Patti Lupone In Vegas And What Were The Gays Thinking?
I don’t care if anyone accuses me of being a gay stereotype when it comes to certain things. And one of those things is Patti Lupone so when my guy surprised me with tickets to see her in concert (second row, no less) I squealed and clutched the imaginary pearls around my neck the way any self respecting gay would in this situation I was more than a little excited. Patti Lupone did not disappoint, as for an hour and half she sang her heart out and had the audience eating out of the palm of her hand. I wasn’t surprised at Ms. Lupone’s performance but I was surprised by the gays in the audience. Patti Lupone in Vegas and what were the gays thinking? – Don’t Get Me Started!
As we went to our seats, I had to laugh to myself. It seemed like some sort of convention. The row in front of us was filled with nothing but gays of a certain age as far as the eye could see (and two lesbians) and the row behind us was the same. I turned to my spouse to remark that it would almost appear that we were seated in the gay section but as I panned the rest of the audience it would appear that the “gay section” was indeed much larger than the first two rows. Sure there were some older people in the audience and a gaggle of young girls who were no doubt theatre students. I knew they must be such from their makeup and the tight t-shirts that couldn’t even begin to cover their bellies that read on the back, “Patti Lovers – We’ve Got Star Quality” – for the six of you reading this who don’t know the lyrics to “Buenos Aires”, a song from Lupone’s breakout performance in Evita – I’ll just say the phrase on the back of these t-shirts is a bastardized lyric from the show and leave it at that.
I don’t go to a lot of concerts, in fact I couldn’t even tell you the last one that I went to but this was sheer enchantment. Never sounding better, minimum patter in between songs and yet there was no need for patter because every song the woman sang was like a script. They each told a story. Some made you laugh, some made you cry and some just made you wonder what it must be like to possess all the talents that this one woman possesses. As the pianist began playing the familiar strains of Don’t Cry For Me Argentina, she raised her arms in the classic “Eva” pose and the audience went crazy. As the orchestra joined in I felt a lump in my throat because to hear her sing this song live was something that I had never had the opportunity to do before and might not again. She began softly, “It won’t be easy…” then suddenly she broke off from the singing and began a pointed monologue to someone sitting behind us in our section. Apparently someone had been either texting or videoing during the performance. She went on a small tirade about how disrespectful it was to her and the audience. It wasn’t as loud as when she went off during one of the final performances of Gypsy (from what I’ve heard) but let me just say you knew she meant business and rest assured you got the feeling she would cut you or anyone who interrupted the show again. On a side note, I think the world has lost its mind when it comes to seeing live performances. They text and take pictures and just don’t get it. The deal is that you’re not so important that you’re going to get any call or message during the performance that is so urgent that you can’t sit there and not be electronically attached to your phone so get over yourself and show a little class people. And as far as “pirating” audio I suggest you just buy the album like you’re supposed to as a decent human being. Ms. Lupone shook off the incident and went right back into her “Eva” pose, the music swelled and so did my heart. She was and is amazing.
At the end of the performance the audience leapt to its feet and remained there for the encores she performed but as I looked around at these people I began to notice that these gays had lost one major component to their gayness. They looked like a bunch of shlubs. In their shorts or ripped jeans with flip flops they all just looked a mess. Oversized polo shirts that had seen much better days or a shirt that was so wrinkled that it could only be described as my grandmother used to say to me when she saw me wearing a wrinkled shirt, “What? Did you pull that shirt out of a chicken’s ass?” Who were these gays with their mates looking worse than they did? They weren’t the young gays so I can chastise them for their youthful ignorance as the reason for this poor fashion parade. These gays made the stereotypical image of a Dad in his underwear with his hands down his pants on the couch look stylish. I was more than appalled at my fellow gays. Shame on all of you or anyone who goes to a theatre or live performance dressed like you’re going to the gym or picking up the morning paper. You’re not only making my eyes bleed with your bad choices but you’re depriving yourself of the total experience of live theatre. Live theatre is an event. So dress up, have a nice dinner before you go and for God sake, leave the phone in the car. And if you’re a gay all of the above isn’t a suggestion but a requirement. Don’t let the sloppy straightees influence what you wear, instead let Men’s Vogue instruct you. Or else this gay will cut you! Patti Lupone in Vegas and what were the gays thinking? – Don’t Get Me Started!
Read More Scott @ www.somelikeitscott.com
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