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| https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Showtune_%28musical%29 |
My parents have some of the worst tastes in gay Broadway musicals that I've ever encountered outside of heterosexuality, which sometimes makes me question them on the daily. I grew up with all of their overly-dramatic albums and accompanying soundtracks for crappy hits like "Hair" ("Haaaiiirrrrr...the sunshine...the....sunnnn...shines...iiinnnn!"), "Jesus Christ Superstar" ("What's the fuss? Tell me what's a-happening...what's the fuss....tell me what's a-happening..."), and the really bad suburban off-Broadway dinner theater on Friday night that's annoyingly repetitive.
I can recite and/or sing almost all of their bad art, in an overdone "American Idol" type of up-and-down warbling that goes ONNNohhhhoohhhhohannnddddOHHNNNN!!! It's actually really bad singing, because it's lacks the technique and authenticity of much better singers who can break their voices mid-song to improvise with the riffing back-up band, unlike those terrible show-ponies trained to bust vocal chords while on tour, over and over again. Who cares, right? You're only in town for the weekend.
In addition to this questionably suspect and obviously gay facet of their musical lives, my mom occasionally thinks it's fun to torture me with her paper hoarding by pretending to me during clean-ups (after yet another bad bone break) that her old unsigned "Playbills" might be worth something on eBay, because my parents like to mess with me during their down-cycles. She also shoved a plastic baggie at me filled with those badly done ceramic animals that you get when you buy the big-ass package of tea bags, because she HAS TO have tea at the same time every day. After that false pretense (I had to make a show of pretending to care, by looking up her poorly-made animals online), she went back to sticking the weird little animals into her potted plants, where they rightfully belong.
It's not that I care overmuch about their sexuality or poor choices in art, it's just that New York kids are slammed with enough "out-of-towner" shit made for tourists. We don't need it at home, too! Some of their music is really great (like their Beatles albums and "Le Jazz Hot"), and some of it is just simply blah-blah-blah mental-patient "sing-alongs" any crazy nitwit can do, if only we would willingly injure ourselves by singing it for them compulsively, fifty times in a row, for the exact same badly-dressed matinee attendees (cheaper with their AARP discount) , and I am not willing to be their soothing fodder. Ya dig?
Ravenous public, your homework today:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oversinging
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vocal_fold_nodule
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vocal_cord_paresis
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spasmodic_dysphonia
BUSTED!
