Last night, I had the great pleasure of attending Dora The Explorer's Pirate Adventure.
Immediately, I knew that Dora was going to be much different from any concert I had ever attended. First of all, the Religious Right did not accost us on the way to the auditorium. You know the ones I'm talking about: the guys who scream at you inform you that you're headed to hell for attending a rock show and that you need to REPENT NOW. Truth be told, I missed the pit preachers. They were always good for a laugh.
When we reached the merchandise booth, there were plenty of toys and stuffed animals for sale. Why don't they have toys at the shows I used to attend? Who wouldn't love a cuddly Axl Rose Beanie Baby?
I also noticed that there were no black t-shirts for sale. I wasn't aware that concert tees came in any other color.
We made it to our seats at 6:50 PM, ten minutes before the show was scheduled to start. Keyword? Scheduled. The kids started to get a little antsy and I looked down at my watch and saw that it was 7:05 PM. I wondered if Dora had lost The Map and couldn't find her way to the stage (because God knows that chick can't find her own ass without using The Map). Or maybe Boots was throwing his feces all over his dressing room. Or perhaps both he and Dora were tag-teaming some groupie.
But I was brought back to reality when I noticed all the children were becoming restless. I've heard tales of people rioting at concerts if a band shows up late or ends their gig earlier than expected. I've also seen my daughter in action when she throws a tantrum. Multiply this by a thousand other children and there's no way a couple of rednecks tearing up seat cushions can compete. I began to fear for my own life.
Finally, at 7:14 PM, the lights went dim and the show began. The children in the audience were immediately divided into two groups: those who were in total awe, unable to blink due to the fear they might miss something, and those who were terrified of what they were seeing (Mom! Dad! What the hell is this? Who are these people? This isn't Dora! I want to go home!) while their parents were busy calculating how much money five minutes of Dora was going to end up costing them.
When Boots hit the stage, the kids in the crowd went wild. I however, was less than impressed. He was overzealous and extremely animated, the Community Theatre Queen who overacts and fantasizes about Mr. Big Broadway Producer sitting in the crowd, waiting to take him to NYC after seeing his performance.
And did I mention he was African-American? That's right, they had a black guy playing a monkey. Spike Lee would not be pleased.
About forty minutes into the production, there was a ten-minute intermission. Intermission? I've never been to a concert that had an intermission. Of course, the Stones probably have an intermission halfway through their gigs so their fans can change their Depends. But, seriously, the previous forty minutes had already felt like forty hours. I was ready to go home and didn't need an intermission. I needed an ending.
After thirty more minutes, We did it! We did it! We did it! Hooray! Thank God! I made it out alive.
Zed? I think he enjoyed it as much as I did. First of all, he was terrified of the pigs and Isa the Iguana. Towards the end, if they weren't singing, he wasn't happy.
But Zoey had the time of her life. At least someone came home happy.
Related:
Rock 'N' Roll Lifestyle
Rockin' Out With Dora The Explorer
