Well, the stake roadshows are back
Posted: Fri Dec 22, 2006 3:46 am
Anyone remember the old Stake Roadshows? If not, it was a program wherein the youth of each ward would create a short play and then, on the designated day, travel around the various ward buildings in the stake to perform for the members.
A couple of years back, Gordon B. Hinckley came out and had them discontinued. I might have a faulty memory, but I don't think he even came up with a justification--just a blanket ban.
So imagine my surprise when, several weeks ago, I received a notice taped to my door inviting me to attend the upcoming roadshow. Did "my" Stake President go maverick, or did he just not get the memo? It was explained at the roadshow itself that they'd been reinstated as a way to increase the cameraderie between the membership (or something to that effect). Since we all know the church is run by revelation, I wonder: Did the inspired decision occur when they banned roadshows, or did the inspired decision occur when they reinstated roadshows? But I digress.
I was in a stake roadshow once myself, way back in 8th Grade, and combined with my natural interest in the dramatic arts I was a bit curious, so I decided to attend.
OMG, I was APPALLED. So much so that I was continually thanking my lucky stars that none of my family members accompanied me. How would I explain it to them?
You see, back when I was in my roadshow, we took it SERIOUSLY. There were actual auditions. If you sucked, you were given a non-speaking part or no part at all. There were songs which we had to practice. Choreographed numbers. A script. Conflict and resolution. A specific theme. Distinct beginning, middle, and end.
Not only this, but there were era-specific costumes and a set which took time to build. We even had stage managers and functioning--if crude--special effects.
We had a director and an accompanist. We practiced over and over for somewhere near a MONTH to hone our performances and produce the best product. We were in a competition with the other wards, and we took it seriously.
But what did I witness at this recent thing? The most amateurish, piss-poor excuses for performances that I've ever seen in my life. I was actually embarrassed for the participants. Rather than have it be a youth activity, they apparently threw in anyone who wanted to be involved, no matter what their age. When necessary, they wrote parts for them. Rather than actually practice for their performance, it looked like they'd thrown something together on Thursday night, had a lame attempt at a practice or two on Friday night, and then ran through it haphazardly for us on Saturday night.
First off, the whole concept of a "roadshow" had been scrapped, since the wards only performed in their own buildings (they didn't go anywhere). So wards A, B, and C used their building, wards D, E, and F used their own building, etc. If you happened to be in, say, ward A, you simply wouldn't get to see the acts put on by wards D, E, and F. Lame, huh?
I know that by now you're looking for specifics, so here they are (HIGHLY ABBREVIATED):
The first show was about the importance of having your 72 hour kit. People walked around in various different occupational uniforms or recreational wear, with placards saying "golfer" or "cell phone user" or whatever. After milling around for a while, you next saw them huddled around in despair, obviously after the apocalpyse. Then the bishop came out and said, "I hope we can learn from this the importance of having your 72 hour kit!" Curtain!
The second show was a "Deal or No Deal" rip-off. A game show host would offer a guy different choices at various periods of his life (childhood, youth, adulthood, "elderly-hood," etc.--obviously played by different actors). While thinking over his choice, women would sing popular primary songs, muse-fashion, after which he'd be inspired to CTR. After making all the right choices, his life became a model for all.
One part that I found totally unrealistic is when, in teenager phase, he was given the choice to have his girlfriend stay overnight while his parents are away or not. He muddled this over, while the muses sang, "I have two little hands." He finally decided against this, justifying his decision by saying, "What if she marries another guy who winds up being my Bishop? That would be akward!" Tell me: What hormone-addled young man thinks of that when contemplating some alone time with his girlfriend?
The third show was a travesty. Two elderly puppets contemplated the time they first met, then the curtain opened to see a random collection of ward members with instruments, some real, most improvised, playing various hymns and primary songs which may or may not have had something to do with love, I don't know. The "mystery prop" that was supposed to be used in all these acts was a beach ball, and in their case the beach ball kept getting hit into and among the members of the "band" (and that's the most generous use of the word "band" in the history of the English language). This show was so bad that I can't even remember the ending--I'd probably hurriedly developed MPD so I could disassociate.
The fourth show wasn't quite as bad as the first and third. It was something about "Celestial Shampoo" and whether you'd rather have your hair styled by angels or devils. It featured Rapunzel trying to work out this cosmic dilemma.
Some of the people made an effort, I could tell, but they were given precious little to work with. There was one redeeming moment in the entire fiasco, though: During the down-time in between the performances, most shows have an MC or somebody doing something to entertain the crowd, and this was no exception. During one such mini-act there were two women singing a song about Jonah and the whale, but from the whale's point of view. The lyrics went to the tune of a certain controversial Primary song we've all heard:
"Swallow the prophet, swallow the prophet, swallow the prophet,
He'll go away!"
At least someone has a sense of humor.
But, after all was said and done, I wanted my two hours back. Thank goodness there were punch and cookies afterward.
Does anyone else have any comments or stories about roadshows?
A couple of years back, Gordon B. Hinckley came out and had them discontinued. I might have a faulty memory, but I don't think he even came up with a justification--just a blanket ban.
So imagine my surprise when, several weeks ago, I received a notice taped to my door inviting me to attend the upcoming roadshow. Did "my" Stake President go maverick, or did he just not get the memo? It was explained at the roadshow itself that they'd been reinstated as a way to increase the cameraderie between the membership (or something to that effect). Since we all know the church is run by revelation, I wonder: Did the inspired decision occur when they banned roadshows, or did the inspired decision occur when they reinstated roadshows? But I digress.
I was in a stake roadshow once myself, way back in 8th Grade, and combined with my natural interest in the dramatic arts I was a bit curious, so I decided to attend.
OMG, I was APPALLED. So much so that I was continually thanking my lucky stars that none of my family members accompanied me. How would I explain it to them?
You see, back when I was in my roadshow, we took it SERIOUSLY. There were actual auditions. If you sucked, you were given a non-speaking part or no part at all. There were songs which we had to practice. Choreographed numbers. A script. Conflict and resolution. A specific theme. Distinct beginning, middle, and end.
Not only this, but there were era-specific costumes and a set which took time to build. We even had stage managers and functioning--if crude--special effects.
We had a director and an accompanist. We practiced over and over for somewhere near a MONTH to hone our performances and produce the best product. We were in a competition with the other wards, and we took it seriously.
But what did I witness at this recent thing? The most amateurish, piss-poor excuses for performances that I've ever seen in my life. I was actually embarrassed for the participants. Rather than have it be a youth activity, they apparently threw in anyone who wanted to be involved, no matter what their age. When necessary, they wrote parts for them. Rather than actually practice for their performance, it looked like they'd thrown something together on Thursday night, had a lame attempt at a practice or two on Friday night, and then ran through it haphazardly for us on Saturday night.
First off, the whole concept of a "roadshow" had been scrapped, since the wards only performed in their own buildings (they didn't go anywhere). So wards A, B, and C used their building, wards D, E, and F used their own building, etc. If you happened to be in, say, ward A, you simply wouldn't get to see the acts put on by wards D, E, and F. Lame, huh?
I know that by now you're looking for specifics, so here they are (HIGHLY ABBREVIATED):
The first show was about the importance of having your 72 hour kit. People walked around in various different occupational uniforms or recreational wear, with placards saying "golfer" or "cell phone user" or whatever. After milling around for a while, you next saw them huddled around in despair, obviously after the apocalpyse. Then the bishop came out and said, "I hope we can learn from this the importance of having your 72 hour kit!" Curtain!
The second show was a "Deal or No Deal" rip-off. A game show host would offer a guy different choices at various periods of his life (childhood, youth, adulthood, "elderly-hood," etc.--obviously played by different actors). While thinking over his choice, women would sing popular primary songs, muse-fashion, after which he'd be inspired to CTR. After making all the right choices, his life became a model for all.
One part that I found totally unrealistic is when, in teenager phase, he was given the choice to have his girlfriend stay overnight while his parents are away or not. He muddled this over, while the muses sang, "I have two little hands." He finally decided against this, justifying his decision by saying, "What if she marries another guy who winds up being my Bishop? That would be akward!" Tell me: What hormone-addled young man thinks of that when contemplating some alone time with his girlfriend?
The third show was a travesty. Two elderly puppets contemplated the time they first met, then the curtain opened to see a random collection of ward members with instruments, some real, most improvised, playing various hymns and primary songs which may or may not have had something to do with love, I don't know. The "mystery prop" that was supposed to be used in all these acts was a beach ball, and in their case the beach ball kept getting hit into and among the members of the "band" (and that's the most generous use of the word "band" in the history of the English language). This show was so bad that I can't even remember the ending--I'd probably hurriedly developed MPD so I could disassociate.
The fourth show wasn't quite as bad as the first and third. It was something about "Celestial Shampoo" and whether you'd rather have your hair styled by angels or devils. It featured Rapunzel trying to work out this cosmic dilemma.
Some of the people made an effort, I could tell, but they were given precious little to work with. There was one redeeming moment in the entire fiasco, though: During the down-time in between the performances, most shows have an MC or somebody doing something to entertain the crowd, and this was no exception. During one such mini-act there were two women singing a song about Jonah and the whale, but from the whale's point of view. The lyrics went to the tune of a certain controversial Primary song we've all heard:
"Swallow the prophet, swallow the prophet, swallow the prophet,
He'll go away!"
At least someone has a sense of humor.
But, after all was said and done, I wanted my two hours back. Thank goodness there were punch and cookies afterward.
Does anyone else have any comments or stories about roadshows?