If you haven’t read the book, Wicked is the story of the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz. Her story, like most when you look into them, is complex, full of ambiguities.
That’s one thing I liked about the whole story – it has no villains. There are a bunch of characters, some less likeable than others, but they’re all three-dimensional, like in real life. There rarely exists someone who is truly good or truly bad.
There are also a bunch of underlying themes, dealing with politics, xenophobia and racism. It’s a complex bit of musical theater.
It was cool to catch it at the Opera House, too. It’s a beautiful building, and they had it all decorated for the holidays still.
One thing I do want to pick apart has to do with some of my fellow patrons.
I’m not a snob by any means, especially not a clothing snob. I’ve worn cut-off fatigues and a punk rock t-shirt to business meetings. That being said, the theater is a special place, it’s a dressy occasion.
You don’t wear jeans to the theater.
You don’t wear tracksuits to the theater.
Now, I’m not talking about the little arthouse theaters. We have one that’s BYOB, and the environment is more relaxed. You can wear what you want to those. But a spectacle like a Broadway musical at the Opera House calls for a little more decorum. Suits are not essential, but would it kill you to put on some khakis and a sweater at least!?!
Then there are entire families; parents and kids all dressed like slobs. If dads wearing jeans and a t-shirt, it’s no surprise that little Timmy looks like he just rolled out of bed. Perpetuation…
Then, while we’re on the subject of kids, there is a certain age at which it becomes OK to take a child to a musical. That age isn’t set in stone, but it’s once the child is past the point where they’re old enough to be entertained, rather than flailing about in the seat next to me and talking to her mother. I didn’t blame the kid; she was just bored. And she was bored because she didn’t want to sit still and listen to singing, no matter the subject. Then, mom made the stellar choice of feeding her candy so she was bored and wound up.
I know what the tickets cost, and know that Mom could have hired one of the best babysitters in Detroit Metro for the cost of that seat that her little one occupied. Seriously, if the kid is too young to care, don’t bring her to the theater.
All my bitching aside, we had a wonderful time. The play was amazing.
Afterward, we scoped out a little Cuban place that just opened up, and we went for a BIG pitcher of sangria and some
We became so inspired that on Sunday we cooked Cuban Pork with mago papaya salsa and some Cuban rice. I think we are definitely fans of Cuban food now.
To buy the pork loin, I went to a different meat shop than the one I prefer (Holiday Market). At Holiday, the meat guys are friendly, helpful and knowledgeable. The meat guy at the other place we happened to be at was not any of these things, and refused to cut down a pork loin for me, leaving me with four pounds of pork for the two of us. As we were standing there while he wrapped it up, TFN asked why he wouldn’t cut us one down. I just looked at her and audibly said, “because he’s not very nice; surely not as nice as the folks at Holiday.”
The recipe came out wonderfully, but now I’m figuring out what to do with the rest of this pork loin. I’ll let you know.
One more note: the salsa recipe calls for fresh coriander. I could not find this. At home, I consulted the interwebs and found out what the recipe calls "fresh coriander" is more commonly known as cilantro. I'm not a fan of cilantro, and usually substitute parsley, which is what I did here and it was good.
But yeah: fresh coriander = cilantro. Now you know.
Elsewhere, Ron Asheton of the Stooges was found dead today. I saw the Stooges on a reunion tour in ’03, and they are still a rock and roll powerhouse. This is the show I was at:
RIP, Ron. We'll not see the likes of you again.