Thursday, November 18, 2010

Shangri-La Chinese Acrobats

This evening we had tickets to the see The Shangri-La Chinese Acrobats. This same show in DC would have surely cost us $50 a pop, but because the show was performed on a military installation in the middle of Lost-on-the-Coast-of-Georgia, the tickets were cheap. Unfortunately, we were about the only family who thought $10 a ticket was cheap. MWR was practically giving away the tickets this past week because no one cared that a world renown group was performing on post. Of course, most of the people around this here place think world renown includes the driver of some fast car or a fighter wearing a TapOut t-shirt. I guarantee you that last month's day out with Chuck Liddell was much better received and anticipated.

However, I wanted to see the show, and I persuaded the boys that they wanted to see the show, too. One mention of thrown swords and a touch of Kung Fu was all that was needed. I purposefully neglected to mention bright costumes, balancing acts, and anything related to acrobats. On Thursday afternoon, the boys thought we were about to watch a fight scene from Karate Kid.

Even without one fight scene, the boys were impressed, and they even clapped at all the right times. Perhaps Evan was a bit bored at times, though, because in the middle of the contortionist's act, when the young girl is doing amazing things with her body, when we are all wondering, "How is that possible?", he leaned over and asked, "When was the Korean war fought, Mom?"

And for a split second I was stumped. Not because I didn't know the date, but I realized that answering his question, would undoubtedly lead to a discussion about the reasons for a North and South Korea. Something I had no desire to address when some girl in front of me is balancing on her big toe with both legs hyperextended and resting on top of her head.

So I said, "When Opa was a teenager."

Let him ponder that for a while. He must have, too, because nothing else was said.

I feel like spinning plates balanced on sticks and/or small tables twirled on the bottom of the foot of a certain young boy could be a real possibility this weekend. Good thing we will be traveling and it won't be our own plates or tables.

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