thoughts on a few classic musicals

For a person who grew up singing in choirs, sometimes I feel a bit behind when it comes to musical theatre.  There are a lot of classic ones from which I know a few that I've never actually seen.  Thanks to my love affair with the public library, some of this is being remedied.

Last night, I finally saw Annie Get Your Gun for the first time.  I couldn't believe how many songs from it I already knew, considering that I had no idea which musical they were actually from.  I actually sang "There's No Business Like Show Business" in a musical revue in high school with the whole choir.

Anyway, I liked the musical, for the most part.  UNTIL THE END.  I apologize for the spoiler alert (stop reading now if you really care), but talk about the wrong message to send to women!  In case you don't remember, Annie purposely loses a shooting contest against her love interest because he's the jealous kind and can't handle her being better than him.  Then they live happily ever after.  Excuse me?  Talk about a step backwards for feminism!  Okay okay, this musical was written and performed on both stage and in movie a few decades before the huge second-wave feminism push.  But still.

I've also felt this way about the musical Grease.  This was actually my favorite musical growing up and was the first show I ever saw on Broadway.  But before I grew up a little, it was all just fun catchy songs and throwback fashion to me.  (Seriously, I didn't even catch the part about Rizzo's pregnancy scare until I was at least 16.)  Then I saw the movie again in college or so, and geez.  Hey, let me change everything about myself to conform to this idiot man's standards because he apparently doesn't like who I actually am.  Gag.

Hey, girls of 2011, if he doesn't like you for who you are, move on.  Fifteen years later, I'm still kicking myself for intentionally throwing a spelling bee in 8th grade when I was in the final five (the word was "ruminate").  That was definitely fueled by hormones, and I know I would have won.  That's the only time I ever stooped that low, and I'm glad it was only once.  But never would have been better.  I'm pretty sure I intimidated guys in high school and college, but they obviously weren't up to muster anyway.  I promise there are plenty of guys that will actually like you, achievements and all.  So don't compromise.

Alright, that is my inspirational message for the day.

my own Prince

I know everyone is super-duper excited about the Royal Wedding tomorrow, and some are even waking up at the crack of dawn to watch it!  It interests me slightly, but mostly because everyone tells me that my very own husband looks like a spitting image of Prince William!  I had a former co-worker see a picture of him on my desk a few years ago, and tell me so.  (I actually had to Google a picture of Prince W, because I had no idea what he looked like.)  Then, just after the engagement was all in the news, B and I were out at Pensacola Gallery Night, and a group of drunken retirees stopped to tell us they thought the same!  Apparently even B's own sister has been thinking this too, so now I know we're onto something here.

 I'll let you be the judge:

Both in uniform

a Catherine and her Prince

a Catherine and her prince

Yes, I made him stand by the TV so I could compare

B's face is slightly more round, and his nose is cuter (although he thinks Prince William has a "cool" nose, whatever that means).  Prince William is also a few inches taller than B, which is fine with me, since I'm only 5'2" and I don't enjoy craning my neck.  But they both have an oval face, pretty blue eyes, and a big-toothed smile (oh, and some premature balding).

As for me, the story from my mother has always been that she wanted to name me Catherine Elizabeth, but then decided that was too many letters (thanks, Mom!), so they settled on Catherine Ann.  Kate's given name is Catherine Elizabeth, and I think she looks like our previous CO's wife (who is about 10 years her senior, but gorgeous).

So I've got my prince, but if someone could hook me up with Kate's wardrobe now, I'd be all set!

gut cut, muscle maxx, and drill bits

 I think I'm unintentionally on a quest to try every class this base gym offers.  Some of them I even got suckered into by B's female co-workers.  They like to go to a class called Gut Cut during lunch hour, which is either followed by Muscle Maxx or Drill Bits, and of course we were both invited to join in the aches and pains fun.

Let me tell you, these classes kick my tail (and my abs!).  The first one is Gut Cut.  It's a class that focuses on your core, so it's just abdominal work for an entire half-hour.  One of the slightly easier things we do is something called a Russian Twist:

Okay, I admit I don't ALWAYS do it with my feet in the air.  It still works your obliques with feet on the ground, I promise.  However, whenever they say "Russian Twist," I can't help getting this atrocity of this 3OH!3 song stuck in my head.

The Drill Bits class is the one that constantly kicks my butt though.  It's basically sports conditioning drills, reminding me of my days as a sub-par JV soccer player.  Do laps, jump rope, push ups, bear crawling, wall-sits, etc.  I haven't seen suicide sprints at this class yet, but I fully expect it one of these days.

One thing about going to these classes at the gym is that they actually have guys in them.  The other classes I've been to have been all female, to the point where I told B that they should have a "Boy Box" with tinted-out windows.  That way, B can participate in Step/Zumba/Kickboxing/whatever, and not feel like the odd man out.  Kinda like the cry room at church, right?  I really think he'd enjoy Step Aerobics if he got over the stigma [he thinks is] attached to it.

However, what I noticed about having guys in the class (especially Gut Cut) is that they WHINE.  And these are the big tough Navy and Air Force guys (and perhaps even some Marines!).  But, man, what a bunch of wailing babies!

 Have you taken any interesting classes lately?  Or heard a grown man whimper for his mommy?