Hubba Hubba! March 16, 2010
Upon my relocation/return to the Bay Area, I was introduced to the resurgence of Burlesque that had sprung forth after I’d moved away at the end of the 90’s. Actually, I was kind of sort of dragged/vehemently insisted at – and I’ll be totally up front: My knowledge of burlesque was almost zero. I’d seen a show in Chicago the previous year, but not entirely sure if that was representative of what all the hep kids who like to take off their clothes to a choreographed number are up to, dontchaknow. Despite the single previously positive experience, there was this… sort of seedy veneer over the entire concept, in my head.
Plus, and this was a big thing: One does not ogle. One does not hoot. One behaves with decorum, and one does most certainly not run up to the front of the stage. At least, that’s how I was raised (not intentionally, I believe – that’s just how it shook out). And hey, my recently introduced-to friends are now up on stage… and wow, that’s more of them than I had expected to see, ever HEY WOW LOOK AT THE SAFE FLOOR THAT I AM STARING AT NOW.
But if you’re like I was, it’s worth getting over. Because it’s not sexual – it’s an uproarious celebration of fun and life and cheekiness, that’s incidentally, sexy. And you find yourself seeing people doing it for the love of self-expression and self-confidence – and there is every reason to stomp the floor, cheer loudly, and hoot in celebration of the best thing in life: Pure, undiluted joy.
And if that’s not enough for you, you get to watch the antics of two gentlemen who prove that there is, in fact, a productive life after severe head trauma, Kingfish and Eddie:
They go together just like pork ‘n beans (and are just as classy, too!), and along with other cast and crew, wrangle some sense of hilarious order to every month’s theme. Or they’re just two drunks that are funny enough to keep eyes off the stage crew while they change things up. You make the call.
And you should – this Friday’s performance (at The DNA Lounge) purports to be an Awards Show:
Look, just shut the fuck up and go. I won’t tell you to have fun, you will. Unless you’re dead, in which case you’ll fit in just fine in SOMA.
