Stomp is closing in New York after, what?, a hundred years. But do I have a Stomp story. Stay with me. Okay, I have a story for everything, but this funny.
There was a time I was trying to be nicer to my father. And I decided to take my dad to see a Bette Midler show at Universal Amphitheater. It was a great show.
And my father had a great time. And he loved it because, truthfully, he did introduce me to Bette Midler. It also helped that I knew people and so we were invited to an after show party.
Well dad really did love it, so he wanted to pay me back. So he took me to a show traveling through Orange County, a Stomp knock-off. This show was not only annoying, it made me totally never want to see Stomp.
I suffered through the banging, and the wearing trash can lids as shoes, and the clanking of empty 5 gallon buckets, and I damn well smiled the entire time. Even as one 'dancer' after another stopped and yelled for the audience reply. i was nice. And I thought, hell, he is at least trying.
We go to leave and gets a pack from his car and he lights a cigarette. And I say, honestly-ish, 'That was great, thank you so much!" And turn to go to my car.
And he said, 'Wait until you see the second half." I was freaking gob-smacked. What else could they do? Did they have bigger trashcans out back? How did I stuck in this rat-a-tat-tat nightmare? I suddenly missed our older, more distant relationship.