I'm sorry I haven't written in a while. Life keeps getting away from me, but I'm back today with a rant of sorts. A couple of weeks ago, I attended ballet recitals for Laura and Juliet. They attend a professional dance school that produces an impressive roster of recitals every spring. The school uses a real theater with assigned seating, sets, lighting design--the works. It would have been a wonderful theatrical experience if it hadn't been for the appalling behavior of the audience. As you know, I have a lot of experience as an audience member and a little experience backstage as well, but I don't think it takes any experience to recognize that some audience members' self-centered behavior threatened to ruin the show for those around them. I can't believe they don't know the basics of theater etiquette, but I thought I would offer a few pointers for novice audience members.
Arrive a few minutes early. Most theaters will not seat latecomers because of the disruption it will cause. Not only does it distract both audience and performers to have latecomers fumbling though the dark to their seats, the light from the lobby will pour through the open door. Depending on the design of the theater, it sometimes casts a beam of light onto the stage, disrupting the lighting design. Get there early so that you can find your seat and read through the playbill before the show begins.
Be quiet. This seems like a no-brainer, but the audience at my daughters' recitals had a problem with it. Even if it's not your kid on the stage, others around you probably want to enjoy the show. Don't talk. Don't even whisper unless you really really have to. Turn of your cell phone (you can't answer it during the show anyway). Don't rustle papers or candy wrappers--the acoustics in theater buildings make it so that everyone can hear you.
Lights off. Lots of people in the recital audience used flashlight apps to read their programs. The theater is dark for a reason. Those lights were very distracting and detracted from the lighting design on the stage. One audience member rested her flashlight on her lap and cast a huge pool of light on the ceiling. In the center of the pool of light was a shadow of her head and hands. I understand the desire to follow along with the playbill so we know where we are in the program, but you just can't do it. That's the way it goes in the theater. Remember that your mobile devices are very bright in a darkened theater, so no texting, please.
Don't take flash photos. This one is especially important for a dance performance. Those flashes can cause the dancers to fall and hurt themselves. At best, it's distracting. At worst, it's dangerous because it interferes with their spotting technique. Some theaters will not allow any photography at all because of patents on their architecture. Try to be aware of photography rules before you begin snapping away.
Stay in your seat. If you follow my first rule (arrive early) you should be able to take care of all your needs before the house lights go down--visit the restroom, call the baby sitter, get a drink of water. Then you can leave your real life behind and enter the world invented for you by the performance.
Go easy with fragrance. I like perfume, but sadly some perfumes give me raging migraines. I know I'm not alone in this, so as a courtesy to those who are near you and can't get away, please use only a little fragrance or skip it altogether.
Some theaters offer etiquette advice on their websites. Here are some examples:
And here are some other resources:
Now, enjoy the show!
Friday, June 20, 2014
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
How to Buy a Dishwasher in 4,000 Easy Steps
Okay, so it isn't really 4,000 steps, but it has turned out to be a long process. It began, as most purchases do, with convincing my husband that we needed a new dishwasher. Ours was not doing its job anymore and required all manner of tricks and strategies to get the dishes clean. Eventually, he did agree to bring a repairman to have a look at it. The repairman, without any prompting from me, reported that the poor thing was at the end of its life, and we should think about getting a new one. But it wasn't until Paul thought through the numbers that he agreed. You see, in order to get the dishes even somewhat clean, we had to run the rinse cycle first followed by the "heavy wash" cycle. The wasted water and energy convinced him that a new dishwasher would likely save us money in the long run. Victory! On to step two.
I believe I have established in previous posts, that we are academics. We don't just run to the store and say, "I'll take that one" the way a normal person would. No, we do research. We collect evidence. We plan. We labor over the decision until we finally select the best value for our unique situation. This time, we did it all online. This turned out to be a mistake. I was at work when I received a message from Paul that the dishwasher he ordered didn't fit. It was too tall. He ordered a different one.
The next choice fit fine, but I was disappointed when I tried to use it. It was too small. I understand that we needed one that would fit in our small kitchen, but the old one was bigger than this! I would have to run the dishwasher at least twice a day, maybe three times. Moreover, the top rack doesn't come out all the way and is difficult to load. On to step, what is it now . . . five?
Paul did more research, but this time he insisted that we go to the showroom together to make the selection. If we both go, then the children have to come, too. On the way to the store, we were treated to a chorus of, "This is boring!" and "I don't want to go to a stupid dishwasher store!" and "What a waste of an afternoon!" I asked the children to try to think of a time when Daddy or I did something for their sake that we didn't really want to do. Couldn't they make this sacrifice for their family? Sulking followed.
We went to a store in the Chicago suburbs that rates highly for both price and service. It's been around since 1936, and we have had good experiences with them in the past. Their store is a wonderland. I have never seen a showroom with as much action as theirs. At other stores, you'll see four or five salespersons hanging around waiting for bait. This place was packed with customers. And if you walk all the way through the showroom, you enter a lovely atrium with a HUGE dancing fountain. All around the atrium are little boutique-style shops featuring small appliances, kitchen displays, clocks, computers and tablets, and mattresses. They also had features to appeal to children--a close-up parlor magician, free fresh-baked cookies, a bubble maker that you can step into and find yourself inside a giant bubble. The kids weren't complaining anymore. They were delighted.
So 4,000 steps later (or something like that) we selected a new dishwasher. It will be delivered on Friday. I hope this is the end of the story.
I believe I have established in previous posts, that we are academics. We don't just run to the store and say, "I'll take that one" the way a normal person would. No, we do research. We collect evidence. We plan. We labor over the decision until we finally select the best value for our unique situation. This time, we did it all online. This turned out to be a mistake. I was at work when I received a message from Paul that the dishwasher he ordered didn't fit. It was too tall. He ordered a different one.
The next choice fit fine, but I was disappointed when I tried to use it. It was too small. I understand that we needed one that would fit in our small kitchen, but the old one was bigger than this! I would have to run the dishwasher at least twice a day, maybe three times. Moreover, the top rack doesn't come out all the way and is difficult to load. On to step, what is it now . . . five?
Paul did more research, but this time he insisted that we go to the showroom together to make the selection. If we both go, then the children have to come, too. On the way to the store, we were treated to a chorus of, "This is boring!" and "I don't want to go to a stupid dishwasher store!" and "What a waste of an afternoon!" I asked the children to try to think of a time when Daddy or I did something for their sake that we didn't really want to do. Couldn't they make this sacrifice for their family? Sulking followed.
We went to a store in the Chicago suburbs that rates highly for both price and service. It's been around since 1936, and we have had good experiences with them in the past. Their store is a wonderland. I have never seen a showroom with as much action as theirs. At other stores, you'll see four or five salespersons hanging around waiting for bait. This place was packed with customers. And if you walk all the way through the showroom, you enter a lovely atrium with a HUGE dancing fountain. All around the atrium are little boutique-style shops featuring small appliances, kitchen displays, clocks, computers and tablets, and mattresses. They also had features to appeal to children--a close-up parlor magician, free fresh-baked cookies, a bubble maker that you can step into and find yourself inside a giant bubble. The kids weren't complaining anymore. They were delighted.
So 4,000 steps later (or something like that) we selected a new dishwasher. It will be delivered on Friday. I hope this is the end of the story.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)