The sound of music!

‘Guys and Dolls’ is a no-fail musical: good story line; strong tunes; show stoppers; clever lyrics. Toni has to like it. Doesn’t he? Surely? And the sets: I remember the sets; the set for Act 2 got a round of applause. The dance routines were excellent and the ensemble work outstanding. See, it can’t fail to impress. I have to add that this is being written at ten past six, before curtain up at seven thirty with the music from the original National Theatre cast playing on the computer. The only reaction to the music has been, “I hope that isn’t the music for this evening.” But do I doubt the power of this musical to grab an unbeliever by the scruff of the neck and turn them towards the true spotlight? No doubt at all, it will work its magic again as it has in production after production.

. . .

Well, it did up to a point. Toni must be the only person in the whole history of the production of ‘Guys and dolls’ who came out singing a musical phrase to the words ‘guys and dolls’ which wasn’t actually in the show. Toni is a man who can listen to the show stopping number, ‘Sit down, you’re rocking the boat’ and come out singing his own composition. In fact he has gone on relentlessly singing that phrase so much that I found myself giving voice to it! Chico malo!

The production itself was fine: a worthy production of one of my favourite musicals. The sets were not as impressive as I remembered from the previous National Theatre production, though I think that I was probably easily impressed by the outline lights which made up the shape of the distant skyscrapers. I expect rather more these days!

The singing was generally underpowered and the male voices lacked character and distinction. This was particularly clear in the number sung by Sky, ‘Luck be a lady tonight!’ where the rendition was poor: the voice lacking in projection and a lack of definition in many parts of the limited register for that song. It was a poor vocal performance, though a cleverly choreographed scene.

The choreography came into its own during the Havana sequence which was a delight throughout. The staging was relatively simple consisting of a series of tables and a board topped bar stage left, but the way in which the tables and chairs were brought on and the way that the bar was utilised for some spectacular dance set pieces was imaginative and exciting.

I’ve seen better!

The Japanese take away at the end of the evening was more of an overall success.

Talking of food, I would like you to consider the simple act of eating yogurt.

I am old enough to remember a ‘Blue Peter’ programme presenter explaining how to build something which used an empty plastic yogurt pot, “if you have them in your area,” and, in Cardiff, we didn’t; except of course in Howells where they could be bought from the food hall, but not in plastic cartons and the yogurt was only live and wholesome.

Anyway, those were the olden days, and this is now. Now we have aisles loaded with different types of yogurt with a bewildering array of additives, some of which you can actually see!

What is it about yogurt that divides people so completely into distinct groups? It is, after all, a fairly simple action (or series of actions) which will lead to the consumption of yogurt.

But consider the decisions that have to be made and techniques which have to be employed before the completion of the eating experience.
First the choice. How do you choose your yogurt? Forget, for a moment about the fat content, the fruit percentage, the type of ‘extras’ etc; just concentrate on the flavour. What influences your decision? This is where the budding sociologist (or nosey parker) comes into his own.

There is a basic division between the ‘I don’t care’ type and ‘I only eat strawberry’ (and it always is strawberry) type. I am of the ‘I don’t care’ type though I do have a problem with banana yogurt. Y problem is that I don’t really like banana yogurt until I actually eat it, and then I am surprise at how tasty it is. And I respond like this all the time; this is one eating experience which I don’t really learn from. Even writing this down, I know the next time that I am offered a yogurt and might be given (because I will have said that I don’t mind which variety) a banana yogurt I will feel disappointment and slight revulsion, I will however start eating it and, yet again, be surprised by the pleasant taste. People who only eat one type of yogurt and like people with no music in their souls and should not be trusted; give me time and I will think up a quotation from Shakespeare to give credence to this prejudice.

The next level of difference is found in the way in which people take off the yogurt top. For the sake of this analysis I am assuming that we are talking about the simple, taut foil covering found on most pots.

There are basically three types of people designated by their chosen method of decapitation of the pot:
1. Careless rip
2. Careful pull
3. Composite
The ‘careless rip’ is the full blooded rending of the metallic covering which results in fragmentation of the lid and sometimes the splattering of yogurt over a greater surface area than would seem to be possible from the volume of yogurt contained in the small pot.
The ‘careful pull’ person looks for the small semicircle of extra lid which is designed for the thumb and index finger to gain a purchase to ensure, through steady pressure, the complete satisfaction of an entire lid extraction in one piece.

The ‘composite’ describes the immature and rushed approaches to yogurt consumption preparation where the person does not look for the little semicircle (see above) and uses heretical methods for removal including; punching a hole in the lid with the spoon; poking a finger through the lid; using a nail to find the edge of metal (painful) or use the nail to cut round the rim like a can opener (painful, bloody and ineffective); giving the pot to someone else with a winsome smile of engaging helplessness (pathetic); squeezing the pot to dislodge the lid (explosive).

Once the lid is in the possession of the potential eater, either in its complete (or ‘correct’) form of its fragmented (or ‘jagged’) form, the next discriminator is what you do with the yogurt on the underside of the lid.

Again there are three types of person:
1. The licker
2. The scraper
3. The waster

You are only a true ‘licker’ if you are prepared to lick the (quite surprising) amount of yogurt which adheres to the under surface, no matter who you are in company with. It becomes a sort of statement of your view of society and a defiant act of individuality.

The ‘scraper’ has obviously been “brung up be ’and” and is still hearing the Voice of Mother in his ear. This is of course no more polite than licking if you take three or four minutes to scrape every particle of yogurt from the lid, ignoring the disbelieving stares of anyone around you.

The ‘waster’ throws the lid away. Such a person is beneath contempt and doesn’t realise that there are lots of people in the world who would have been very happy to have had that and been very grateful for the treat.

Don’t get me started on how people actually eat the pot of yogurt! Especially when they have got all the easy bits out and there are only the ridges of yogurt left in those inexplicable grooves in the pot put there my malicious designers who like to spread misery where they can.

This is longer than usual because for the umpteenth night in succession there is football on the television and there is only so much a person can take. To morrow is Barca against Real Madrid. God help us all!