In the last five years, I've attended my share of children's performances. Daddio has attended his share, too, but still fewer than me. We've braved Blues Clues, Sesame Street Live, Dragon Tales, the Big Apple Circus, the Wiggles and Disney On Ice. I imagine that subconsciously I've forgotten various other performances, but that shows how meaningful those experiences actually were.
I don't recall attending or even the availability of so many children's productions when I was a youngster. Perhaps I was sheltered in this respect, but more likely, kids created their own performances outside on the neighbor's lawn, in my day. Kids programming was limited, at best.
Yesterday evening, we attended The Wiggles Concert.
To say the least, The Wiggles Concert, live and in-person, is an experience. It would be virtually impossible to find yourself nodding off as Jeff, Anthony and Murray scurry through the audience and Greg jokingly plucks out a few notes of Led Zeppelin's Stairway To Heaven for the adults' benefit.
When I originally heard about these four Australian guys, prancing around onstage belting out children's tunes, I assumed they were gay. Who in their right mind would do this for a living? I assumed, they either must be out of their minds, or consumed large amounts of uppers, namely Prozac.
Then, two years ago, I heard a "cool" dad, dropping off his children at school, remark to the preschool teacher, "Hey, sorry the kids are late, today. We went to the Wiggles concert last night. Boy, they were amazing! They're like the Rolling Stones for kids."
Like the Rolling Stones, eh? I figured I better check it out. So, I set up our Tivo to record the show. My kids were immediately hooked. Within a few weeks, the kids demanded to dress in their ballet attire and dance to the Wiggles on television a few times a week. They could watch the same episode three times in a row, possibly more, if I'd allow it.
Last year, we attended our first Wiggles concert. I recall being stunned by the energy. The parents (particularly the mothers) seemed just as mesmerized by these four Aussie fellows as the kids. The mommies belted out every word of every tune as their children swayed their hips and clapped their hands. Not that I've been to a Rolling Stones concert, but it was like stuff I'd seen on MTV.
Now, over a year later, of Tivo-ing the show and listening to the Wiggles tunes, I, too, can belt out the words to nearly all the Wiggles tunes. I've become one of those mothers who is just as mesmerized by these Aussie fellows as are her children. Even Daddio, sang along to the songs he recognized.
However one feels about the four Aussie men, collectively known as the Wiggles, depriving a child of a Wiggles Concert is like depriving them of their childhood these days. If there is one thing that a parent could choose to do with a child, I strongly recommend attending a live Wiggles show. The energy present at both shows I've attended is as exuberant as Times Square in New York City.
I hope we attend the Wiggles concert again next year! At one point, Daddio asked if all the adults actually brought children to the concert. I wonder myself... maybe we will become the sort of parents that will continue to attend the annual concerts when our children are in high school and college.
Doubtful, but not beyond the realm of possibilities.... Why knows, by then, we may find the Cheetah Girls tolerable.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
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