Live theater is an interesting beast. It is a creature that has survived well beyond its natural life-span, most often sustained on a life support of grants, sponsors, and donations, and when compared to the total population of our country, it can be said that only a small percentage have seen one of these mythical monsters with their own eyes. However, live theater is always changing, and on rare occasions utilizes a new concept or intriguing story to lure inexperienced patrons into its belly. Last night, my friend, Renee, and I were fortunate to sit in front of live theater’s newest victims, two elderly women who were obviously unaccustomed to the etiquette required when digesting a live performance.
As I took my seat, I was taken aback by my first encounter with the dowdy, old woman who will heretofore be referred to as Bessy. Donned in simple attire with a thin, light blue windbreaker draped over her lap, she viewed the pre-show performance through a pair of large, camouflage hunting binoculars pressed against her bespectacled eyes despite sitting relatively close to the stage in the orchestra section.