I Hate Musicals ~ As Well As You Should

It has been a while. Ugh, I think I need to go into the world a little bit more. The weather is nice as of late.

Well, I am in the house, and I am channel surfing with my half dead remote. It is more cracks in the shit than in the mind of a cancer woman, but I digress.

But anyways, Willy Wonka came on television, and I say to myself; “I haven’t seen this in a while, guess I will check it out.” That was until the singing began. I cant do it, I cannot subscribe to musicals. His movie is a damn musical. I don’t know if it is a testosterone thing. But I am sure that it is leaning into that direction. I cannot deal with movies where music is the theme here. It is my belief that musicals belong on Broadway and not in the movies. How the hell can you sing a dialogue?

The shit irks me until no end. I had to meditate and go back into my past. I was looking for a time where I actually did like musicals. I couldn’t find one. Now when I was a boy, I remember liking “The Wiz” and the song easing on down the road. That was a long time ago, and I figure that my level of blackness was developed at an early age. An all black cast shitting on that drug head Dorothy. Served them right.

But hat was the only song I would listen too. Don’t remember singing along, bobbing my head or anything, but I do remember not being able to wait to see Lena Horne, and Richard Pryor. I really thought Rich was going to curse Dorothy out, and tell Michael to put some bas into his damned lungs and shit. I dare to dream.

I remember my pops would watch this video when it was my time to visit his spot. It was called Fast Forward. It was some shit where there was a group of kids that went to the city to become dancers. It was made in the 80’s, and it was gay as hell. None of them dudes were fucking the chicks they were dancing with. Want to impress me, dance your dick in her mouth. I think they won. I could be biased because I don’t remember any break dancing in the film.

I could have went off course with that right there.

Some months ago, I had the privilege to spend an evening at a female friend’s house. Little did I know what I was in store for. It was cool, I got to eat, and you know I loves to eat. But there was a penalty. I had to sit through two entire movies that involved singing and dancing. One of them was with dancing damned penguins, fucking dancing, tap dancing assed penguins. Man listen, I sat on the couch squirming. I tried to force myself to go to sleep, but I was outnumbered by people that were delighted by this film. It really hurt my manly soul. I caught myself tapping my foot at one point. It was because I had to pee, but nonetheless I believed my leg had turned on me, so I went into the kitchen grabbed a knife and threatened my leg. The movie was almost over by the time I limped back into the viewing area. I was good at that point.

Until

They threw on another gay assed dancing movie. It was on of those You Got Served movies. I don’t know which one, what the name of it was, but I got the bottom line of the moral of the story. Oh yeah, that singer dude Chris Brown was in it, and got killed in like the first 7 minutes. WTF?! I actually think the dude can sing. I mean, I sat through the movie, only to see if the guy was going to return as someone with brain damage, one immobile arm, and one leg shorter than the other, pop lock his team to victory. That never happened, and of course I was let down, as always.

Don’t get me wrong. I will go see a performance, not a movie, or a musical, but I would go see the Alvin Ailey group dance. Its an art form that is not captured on film. And not by the shit they doing these days. I mean, if I was suffering from epilepsy, and had the occasional hekry jerky movements, I might make my own youtube video and become a star for a day.

I remember at one point was talking to this trollop. It seemed as though Everytime we spoke this movie Dreamgirls was on. She begged me to watch it. Damned that. I saw the commercials. All of them hoes were singing, in each and every thirty second spot. No dice. I considered it once. But only after the hoe started crying during the movie. I figured that I would be more likely to fuck if I had any knowledge of this film. You know, talk slick and be like “yeah, she can sang, lemme finger bang ya while you watch.” Thank goodness I didn’t have to watch it just to get some pussy. A hoe’s a hoe at the end of the day. Another thing is that I will never watch, willingly a movie that Beyonce stars in, or has a part of. She is nice to look at no doubt, and she can definitely get it. But since the Austin powers debacle, I swear off any of her films. It is like watching paint dry. Horrible to say the least. She needs to take a seat or two.

Ah Ha! In writing al of this, I remember now where my distaste of musicals came from. When I was in like 4th grade, I had the biggest crush on a chick named Shaniqua. She was one of those light skinned chicks, with the light eyes that were popular in the 80’s. I was willing to do anything to get next to her. And I mean anything. So anything was join the chorus. She was in the damn chorus. So, I went to the music teacher and auditioned. Now, I wasn’t the only guy that was in awe of her, I got the idea from my friends at the time. They didn’t pass the singing tests, but I did. HA! So there was little competition for her affection.

Everytime we had a rehearsal, I would scoot my ass over to get closer to her. I thought that if she heard my melodious tunes, she would fall head over heels for me. The only problem was I couldn’t sing for shit. And she would look at me when I was busing out the tunes with an evil eye. My voice may have been changing or something.

Every so often during rehearsal, the music teacher would group people up, so we could try to memorize the words to the songs. Here was my shot, I was paired with Shaniqua. Interestingly enough though, over the weekend, she was in an accident. Her eye was totally purple and black. She was still cute, but I mean damn. It was disturbing to say the least. She says that she fell off her bike, but it looked more like she fell off the bike because someone punched her dead in the eye.

I was okay with it. I mean how could she turn me down now? She looked like half raccoon. So we partner up, to memorize the words to some song. If I remember correctly, it was by “Wham” wake me up before you go..go. Gay, we should have seen the writing on the wall then about George. So we get to singing and what not, but something was off. It wasn’t the tone, her eye or anything. It was that her breath had hit me square in the nose. It was horrid. I don’t know what they served at lunch that day, but I am sure it wasn’t country fried shit with a side of ass dipped in feet juice. I know I didn’t have that. I guess she packed her lunch in her care bear lunch box.

I couldn’t go on. That is the funny thing though about some folks. You gravitate away from them, and then they become the ones to try to scootch over to your ass. Nahhhhhhhh son, not today. It was like that for the rest of my time in the chorus, which I grew to hate. When we finally had our little concert, I was moving my lips and just as lackadaisical as I could be. I couldn’t be more disinterested at that point.

Therefore, I hate musicals. And that has noting to do with the fact that the group got to go to NYC to see “A CHORUS LINE”

And I was one of the fools caught climbing rocks in central park, and got suspended for such. My excuse was that we just left a 2 hour gay production with singing and dancing.

A one day suspension turned quickly into 4 days.

How the hell was I supposed to know the vice principal was a lesbian?