Anyone who has gone to any kind of civil performance – ballet, opera, drama – within the last ten years knows where I’m going already.  The other night I went to a performance of Pageant of the Masters in Laguna Beach.  Pageant of the Masters is a production in which great world art is recreated on stage – think a living nativity scene at Christmas.  It is really quite extraordinary.   As a caveat, I feel I must mention it was a comp ticket, and it was a “dress rehearsal.”  Most of the people in the audience were family and friends of cast members (as was I).  Most of the people had been there since mid afternoon, picnicking and holding their seats, so it was a party atmosphere.  But still.  Once the amazing performance started,  the orchestra began, the narration of   the program began and…the woman behind me would not shut up.

Besides talking throughout the whole thing, after each selection she would let out with a piercing baseball game whoop.  What is the DEAL with this?  How is that appropriate – and it seems like it is always women who do this?  Women’s liberation run amok? “I can make as much obnoxious noise as a guy at a ball game – and oh, I can take it to the next level and do it at a cultural event. ” One time at a performance of The Music Man the young lady next to me did that – right in my ear – after every song from the leading man.  I guess she knew him or had a crush on him or whatever.  I finally asked her to please not do that.  She got very huffy and at the intermission she didn’t return – apparently so she could go annoy another patron.

What strikes me is that I’M THE BAD GUY HERE.  She was clearly upset that I would ask her to stop acting like a child at a theme park.  Another time was at the San Francisco Ethnic Dance Festival.  The women behind me whispered incessantly.  I always figure it will stop and give people the benefit of the doubt.  After 15 minutes when they talked through a poignant Bosnian dance during the turmoil over there, a dance that had no music and the silence was part of the dance, I turned around when it was over and asked them to please stop their chattering.  Again, the looks as if I am uptight and should loosen up a little bit.   How am I the bad guy?

At the Pageant, I moved at intermission and fully intend to attend again as I feel like I missed the first half completely.  I had to question myself about this.  I literally have a physical stress response. I can feel my blood pressure rising.  I am on the verge of tears. My frustration makes my head begin to hurt.  It’s horrible.  It doesn’t seem to bother those around me.   Or maybe it does but they just put up with it.   Al just looks at me as if I’m a little crazy because I just can’t handle it.  I get that – it’s my problem that I can’t handle it.

NO IT’S NOT!  I should not have to “handle” it.  The non-stop talking is disrespectful to the players, the singers, the orchestra (their moments of silence are written into the score – they are called “rests” and are to be appreciated, not talked on top of), the costume and makeup artists, the set crew the lighting crew.  They have all worked tirelessly to make the performance as perfect as possible for us.  They deserve our complete attention and respect.  Even if you don’t like what you are seeing, at least allow those around you to make their own decision and – possibly – ENJOY the performance.

Even writing about this has me agitated.  What  is wrong with people that we are so selfish that what we have to say during a performance is of utmost importance?  What kind of animal urges requires people to screech into other people’s ears to show that they appreciate it more than others do.  The irony is that they don’t.

Otherwise they would shut the hell up.