A few weeks ago, I did something I haven’t done in all the years I’ve lived in this city, and I was remiss in waiting so long.
I went to see Stomp. Stomp, is the uproarious and action-packed percussive show at the Orpheum theater. It is a show that absolutely keeps you enchanted from start to finish. It is loud and crazy and my kids absolutely adored it.
You see, my daughter desperately wants to be a professional drummer. She goes around the house all day beat boxing, and watching videos of Cindy Blackman and Ringo Starr. She loves telling me the difference between clapping on the one and three and clapping on the two and four and how her brother always gets it wrong. This is the girl who will watch 45 minutes of drum solos without looking away. Needless to say, the show was a huge hit with her. She never got bored, she never wanted to go, and she never wanted it to end.
Also, there was a very tall, strapping Asian man in the show who is quite a good drummer, and my daughter has not told me that she is going to marry that guy. Saying “Mama, he’s Asian and he could clap on the two and four.”
Priorities, she has them.
At one point there was audience participation clapping. This was easily my daughters favorite part of the show. This is because she was easily able to keep up with the clapping and her brother who is typically better than her at most things that they want to do,(he is 3 years older) could not keep up at all. My son is one of the most intelligent kids you’ve ever met, and he can reprogram your computer in a day, but boy has no rhythm.
The only drawback to be entire show for me, once they do not sell beer or wine in the lobby. Now, I realize this is a pittance in comparison to what most people could bitch about when going to see any show, but I really like having a beer when I’m watching a show. This is definitely a first world privilege prissy New York problem.
What I go again? Abso fucking lutely. And did I tell you that that young, tall, Asian man greeted everybody in the lobby after the show? My daughter may have had a small conniption. He smiled and winked at her. There was five-year-old swooning happening.