nudity sodomy and my mother

So.

I can think of a number of times a son never wants to be with his mother.

Some examples:

He gets hit in the balls playing sports.

At a strip club (although a pool at an apartment complex in the summer is maybe tied with this).

Watching an uncensored version of Alanis Morrisette’s “you oughta know.”

And listening to a song about sodomy, cunninglingus and fellatio.

Oh.

And possibly when a bunch of guys get naked on a stage in front of you.

With all that said.

I took my mother to see the play Hair for her mother’s day present.

She loved it.

Sang along.

Brought back some memories for her of her and my dad going to see it in San Francisco.

Me?

I was mortified maybe 5 minutes into the play as they eased their way into basically the second main scene in the play, right after the beautiful Age of Aquarius, where the song begins with “I pledge to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth” and then proceeds to sing about fellatio, cunninglingus, sodomy and men’s ‘packages.’ (the song is called “sodomy” I believe)

Let me tell ya.

Making eye contact with your mother at this time is dicey at best.

I began watching longingly as young mothers who thought they were bringing their daughters to an 70’s retrospective play and have the opportunity to sing along to “Let the sunshine In” hustle their youngsters out to lyrical incantation of basically every Kama sutra position, with sodomy & fellatio mixed in, sung in a light melodic tune. Hustling out myself seemed like a nice alternative at the moment.

But.

We made it through that (but of course my mother at the intermission had to lean over and say “hey, racy stuff huh? When’s the last time you heard a song about sodomy outside of a church?”).

Oh.

And then there was right before intermission when everyone strips on stage and walks off.  Yeah.  Butt naked. And lots of men’s butts. My mother? Missed it (whew). The guy sitting next to her at intermission says, “Well, there was the 30 seconds of nudity you were looking forward to, what did you think?”

(my mother) what?!? I missed it? When?!? … turns to me and says “why didn’t you wake me up for it? …

Ok.

Personally I believe it would have been way beyond good son duty to point out nude actors on the stage during the play but I did want to say to her that she was awake and watching and it just happened quickly.

What was I supposed to do? “Hey mom, check out Berger’s package, wow huh?”

(not so much)

Anyway.

So ends another chapter in the book I am going to write some day about me and my 80-year-old mother trying to re-bond after maybe 25 years of hit & miss relationship.

But the true ending of this little uncomfortable story?

The play itself.  Sure.  Some of it is dated but much of it remains relevant today.  We may not have the draft but we are still sending soldiers to wars that are often difficult to understand and explain. It remains a story of young people searching for direction and the challenges of how one generation always is at odds to the generation before.

And of course The Fox theater in Atlanta.

Whew.

If you ever have the opportunity to see a play or a show there do it. It has a timeless charm. Acoustically it will never be perfect but it still remains a perfect place to see a show.

That’s it for today.

Written by Bruce