Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,
Jacqui
jacqui



I Am One Very Pissed Off Mother

Sometimes I hate people and want to hit them. Honestly where it concerns anyone I love or feel protective of, and that includes my own tender hearted self, when someone is mean, rude, arrogant, bossy or controlling I simply want to reach out and hit them. Now the problem is this doesn't mesh with my Billy Jack School of mellow conflict resolution, but then again maybe it really does because if you remember he was the guy who would take off his boots and kick the shit out of anyone if they hurt someone he loved, namely Indian children and hippie chicks.

Beau is on the crew of this stupid talent show at his school. I say stupid because I'm angry at the Fucking, yes I have been swearing a lot lately, and yes I did just get my period so I'm in my DMS phase, parents who organize these things. You'd think it would be all about love and letting children express themselves and I've gotta tell you, maybe I'm cynical but I think there are a lot of failed actor/singer/produer/directors out there who want to make it up to themselves by putting on a "very big show." Like I said, it makes me want to hit people.

Anyway Mr. and Mrs. Self Importance organized this thing, and all of the kids who wanted to be in it had to put their acts together in advance and audition for the show with these pre-rehearsed performances. I think this gave a lot of stage Mommies and Daddies a chance to push their kids to perform. Believe me there were a lot of really baaaad little darlings, and last night I saw this Mother outside the theatre yelling at her tiny little girl in tap shoes who was afraid to go on. She was grabbing her by the wrist and shouting affirmations in her ear, "I am brave. I will dance my heart out. I will wow them." The Mother had such a lame faded wanna be glory about her and was pressuring this poor little girl that I wanted to hit her, grab the tiny little tap dancer and run.

Silly screwed up kid-things are the best part of shows like this. When children toddle out onto the stage, forget what they are supposed to do, and stand their waving, while some parent whispers prompts from the wings, I think that's about as adorable as it gets. I swear I'd rather watch ten numbers where a little girl drops her hula hoops, says oops and smiles, than one overlypolished fifth grader with an overbite belting out There's No Business Like Show Business. Having spent my whole life acting, or wanting to act, I know I would never want to impose this on Beau. I saw way too many parents act just like this along the way, sadly I'm probably the one kid who would have benefited from having a pushy stage Mom, but my Mom was too competitive with me, and that's another story.

Anyway last night I went to Beau's show knowing I wouldn't have a ticket, there are only so many seats in this rinky dink theatre and they all sold out the day they went on sale. Beau wanted me there, though so I figured I could scoot in somehow. I stood in the back for a while and then at the intermission Beau asked me if I'd peek in from the doors nearer to the front. I think he wanted to be able to see me seeing him run across the stage and give people their mikes. Anyway Beau took me around the side of the auditorium and made me cross in front of the stage to get to the other side where he wanted me to wait by this open door where I would be able to peek in at him. People were filing into their seats and by this time, most of the selfish parents who could only bother to stay long enough to see their kid and no one else's, had split. So there were actually plenty of empty seats.

As I crossed in front of this lectern, this fat puffy blonde hee-haw bitch, (yeah I can be just as judgmental about the overweight as a skinny gal, isn't that pathetic), called out to me and said, "Umm Jacqui, you can't be in here unless you buy a ticket." I wanted to turn around and say, I got yer ticket lady," but for the sake of my son I didn't. Maybe this is why I like the Sopranos so much, because in this crazy world where people are stressing out over the control over a children;s talent show, it's nice to know that some people won;t take shit form anyone. Buy a ticket, harumph, like I was trying to cheat them of their twenty-five dollar entrance fee. Yeah, twenty-five dollars for a fucking 1st through 5th grade public school talent show. Can you imagine that? Well, that's Brentwood for you, all the parents who couldn't get their kids into the few private schools in the area, think they're too good for the one school they had to settle for, and don't give a shit about the kids whose families can't afford a ticket price like that, jerks. Like I said, hitting, me want to. So this gal upset me by yelling that out to me, bustling along as if she would personally toss me if I tried to sit, but Beau said, "It's okay we're just going to cross to the other doors." So I sat on a dirty lunch bench in the cold outside, for about an hour and a half, so Beau would know I was there for him.

I could barely hear or see anything and then a woman in a motorized wheel chair drove up and kind of parked in front of me and I had to crane my neck around her tall husband to see. They were there to see the aforementioned little girl avec hula hoops and couldn't find anyone to help accommodate them. Then as if that weren't insulting enough a rude man whose job it was the keep the kids who were about to descend on us for the lining up and grand finale entrance looked at these people and said, "Uh there is going to be a lot of activity here." I was shocked because he said it with such annoyed callous indifference and in the same tone that you would tell a bug to shoo. I felt so sorry for this determined woman with the twisted hands who was fighting so hard to see her graceful daughter perform. Then as if that wasn't bad enough, another self-important stage hand with a headset came along and shut the doors in our faces after we'd been watching the show their for about an hour and we were left to stare at the flat blank vista of two closed schooldoors. I didn't mind as much that they did it to me, but to close a door in the face of someone in a wheelchair, man that takes hardness I don't hope I'll ever posses.

Then suddenly there were swarms of kids in cowboy hats waiting to come in a dance this lame song the parents who put this whole thing together had written for them. Crap crap and more crap. Can you tell I'm mad at the woman who told me I couldn't come in without a ticket? She wrote the damn thing. Yee haw. But it gets worse. At the very end, for the finale, the crew gets to join in the final number, and Beau was just following directions and went to open the back doors to go outside where he was supposed to line up. Then this fucking pig of a man, who had already insulted me about my dog-letter (he lives behind me) by making some rude comment about its rambling, (I know it rambled, but I don't need him to tell me that, leather-wearing, cowboy-hat, jerk geek), grabbed Beau so hard by the upper part of his arm that it left welts in the shape of his fingers. So Beau wound up crying through the finale and came to me and showed me. Well, fierce Mommy Lion that I am, I grabbed Beau and waded backwards through this dumb slow moving crowd, went up to Mr. leather cowboy, interrupted his conversation with a sharp burst of his name, pulled up Beau's sleeve and showed it to him. He said something lame like, "Aww I didn't really pull him that hard," and made other excuses, but I was livid. I told him that I didn't care if God himself landed on the stage, and my son's opening that door would bring an end to the world, that no one had the right top grab a child like that, and he'd better apologize immediately. He apologized but half heartedly and it didn't erase the damage. when I spoke on the phone to the "director" (oh puhlease) today, he just blew off all of my concerns one by one with nothing but excuses and, by his cold disconcerted tone, I could just feel him thinking I'm difficult and Beau is wimpy for crying. I even further humiliated myself by tossing a, "You know I'm a a working professional actor," into the mix. It just burst out of the depths of my wounded Mommy insecurity and now I can't take it back. He said, and picture Lucy's boss on the second Lucy show saying this, I don't remember his name, "Yee-eh-ehssss, I think I reememberrr your mentioning that befo-o-o-re," basically the equivalent of, "and I'm supposed to do what with that information, give a shit? I am the director of da da da da, THE TALENT SHOW."

So the moral of the story is; when putting on plays for children, fire the wannabe Broadway professionals, bind and gag the stage parents, and let the nice ones in, especially if they are in a motor powered wheel chair, oh and twenty-five dollars is too much to expect a parent who has already spent precious time and gas money just trying to be here in the fist place. I live nearby, but some of the parents come from the inner city areas and they aren't in a position to afford ticket prices like this. One more thing, where the hell is all of the money we were supposed to get from the lottery, school bond measures and the reapportioning of our school district and why oh why are schools always so busy fundraising?
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