“I’ve lived in New York almost 11 years, and this is in the top 5 for Most Brooklyn Experience Ever.”
Maybe my viewing companion was right. He was certainly right when he said we weren’t the intended audience for this show.
But sitting through the intentionally quirky performance of puppet-esque skits accompanied by Billy Joel songs, the strongest feeling I felt was discomfort. Not because most of the audience was cackling uncontrollably as if each silly joke was the funniest thing they’d ever heard, and not because half of the performers thought they were the most unique people to ever grace this earth, and not because they featured quite a few lesser known Billy Joel songs that I didn’t like. Not even because they practically ruined one of my favorites with a weird puppet play about cheese.
I felt uncomfortable because watching this show made me realize there is nothing in my life I am as passionate about as these people–performers and audience alike–are about puppets. Nothing makes me as giddy. Nothing causes me to shout multiple times during a performance. Nothing makes me laugh for an hour and a half straight at something other people completely missed.
And I think it must be pretty great to appreciate something so much that you don’t care if it makes you look like an annoying idiot. After all, anyone who has the audacity to judge you for liking something they don’t understand is an idiot themselves, and the worst they can do is write a blog post about it.