Guy in the Puffy Coat

I went the Walker Art Center a couple nights ago to see Laurie Anderson perform her latest piece “DirtDay!”  The Walker’s McGuire Theater, for those who don’t know, is a really neat small theater that suffers from one major flaw:  the seats themselves are extremely tight.  If you’re a modestly wide human being, the sides of the seat will probably hug you like a child hugs its’ teddy bear; if you’re modestly tall, your knees are going to hit the back of the seat in front of you.  I’m not entirely sure why they built the theater in this manner but it’s just something that you’re forced to deal with.  The sight lines, however, no matter where you sit, are unparalleled and the sound is usually fantastic.

I showed up a bit later than I had hoped; only a few moments before the show actually began.  I was in the second row and three seats inward in the middle section.  Two friendly gentlemen where to my left towards the aisle and immediately said hello, allowed me to walk past, and so on.  The guy on the other side simply stared downwards and didn’t exactly look overly friendly.  He was wearing a brown newsboy cap and an orange puffy winter coat.  He was sitting in a manner that his arms were not only lobbing over the very small armrests but also well into the territory of the seats on both sides.

I sat down and was immediately greeted by the man’s arms in my space.  I was a bit shocked.  I kind of thought he would just naturally readjust himself once I sat down but he didn’t.  His left arm was so far into my small seating space that I couldn’t even completely put my right leg flat on my chair so I ended up doing a weird hybrid seating position, not completely unlike unexpectedly sitting on a small turtle underneath your right butt cheek.

I was a bit bewildered.  How was I going to make it through this performance that I so eagerly wanted to see while being so incredibly uncomfortable?  On top of that, I have a pretty bad back, and this awkward position spelled potential danger and aggravation.  I was having visions of suddenly having back spasms in the middle of the performance and screaming out in pain.

Not long after the show began, something rather interesting happened:  the guy got itchy.  He suddenly and very quickly reached up to scratch his temple with his left arm and then returned it back to its’ original position.  Ah ha!  I deduced that this would be the time to strike.  I patiently waited for the next itch, which came along only moments later, and immediately shifted.  Little by little, I started to reclaim my space…all the while NOT looking like I was.  Instead, I made it look like he didn’t put his arm back in exactly the same spot.

This may all seem a bit strange to some of you and I can certainly understand why.  You’re probably thinking, why not just ask the guy to move?  I can’t totally answer that.  I just got a vibe, a rather unfriendly one that said it wasn’t worth it.  Plus, I kind of figured that I’d come up with some bizarre scheme to rectify the situation, of which I did, of course.  Call it a bit of a challenge.

The funny part is that most people would be pretty annoyed with this whole situation.  I’ll admit that I was put off a bit at first but, instead of getting angry, I actually got more sympathetic as the night went on.  It became clear that this guy was more “uncomfortable” than me, whether it be in his clothes, chair, situation, or own skin.  Something wasn’t right and it appeared to me that he was clinging to this space as a sort of last ditch effort of sanity, or maybe esteem.  Rather than be angry at him, I think I sympathized with him.  I ultimately felt sorry for him, I guess.

Heck, if that little bit of space means that much to you, well, take it, or at least until the next itch.

Bones are Better than Bones

I’m eternally the guy that’s somehow and some way stuck in the past when it comes to current events.  I just don’t get it because I’m really not that out of it, as they say, and I think of myself as a relatively modern minded sort of guy.  Still, there are always little tidbits of daily life that completely puzzle me, and when asking someone else about them, I usually get the “have you been living under a rock” look, a look that I’ve grown quite accustomed to.

Take for instance the strangely named Honey Boo Boo phenomenon.  I kept seeing this name pop up all around me and so I finally had to ask a coworker, “Who or what the hell is Honey Boo Boo?”  My initial thought was that it was a cross between a cuddly bear and a band-aid promotion.  It turned out that I was more right than I would have expected, depending upon how you look at it.

I also recently entered the realm of regular television after canceling my long time subscription with DirecTv.  Now, I know, you’re thinking that regular TV channels are included in DirecTv packages so how could I not know about them?  The answer is I simply never tuned to those channels before.  Now you’re getting the picture, aren’t you?

I’ve come across the show “Bones”, apparently a rather popular program that I’ve only heard of previously and never watched more than 2 seconds of.  After watching it for a decent amount of time, I’ve come to the conclusion that they got the name of the show all wrong.  No, it shouldn’t be called “Bones” but instead “Horribly Decayed Flesh”, with the byline of “BEWARE: Don’t try to eat dinner while watching this!”  Being a newbie to the show, I’ve nearly thrown up more than once while attempting to eat my dinner during it.  Let’s just say I don’t recommend this behavior.

The truly fascinating thing is that I’m actually enjoying regular TV more than I liked satellite.  Don’t get me wrong for I miss having a DVR, but then again not having it has cut down on the amount of hours of television that I feel that I HAVE to watch because I recorded it.  I’ve also recently discovered “Family Guy”.  What’s not to love?  If only I had known years ago.