Vagina Monologues and Pride Weekend

I have to take a little blogger vacation; I have a funeral to attend this weekend and I am not going to have access to a computer. I'll be back on Sunday for the Pride parade, but I will be missing everything up to that point. :-( I'm hoping my contributors will step up to the plate and tell you about all the fabulous things they are doing this weekend!

In the meantime, let me make a recommendation: go see The Vaginal Monologues at Falcon Theatre in Newport. You know, I had never seen it. I have friends that have performed in it; I've even had the opportunity to see it half a dozen times, and even once for its sister performance, The Coochie Chronicles. I finally got to see it last night with Jere.

I am in no way filled with the "vagina wonder" that the play seeks to embolden you with, but it's poignant, at times funny, at times depressing, and the Falcon brings its best quality to the table -- that is, the enthusiasm of the actors. I've said it before, for whatever the performances lack, I can never say that the thespians are uninteresting. Jere has a post up, and, he's right, there are some things you wish were there. Some of the monologues were developed half-heartedly or without the certain power that they need, but the overall effect is there. Unfortunately, Monologuesis the kind of show that lives or dies by the actors ... and, though good in general, the entire piece needs to be played up like the cuntmonologue, or with the quiet dignity of the opening monologue about an elderly lady worried about getting turned on and flooding the world with her wetness.

I left my program at the bar afterwards so I don't know any names, but I wanted to give a shout out to the woman with the purple velvet-y shirt on who does the monologue about going to the vagina workshop. You were, undoubtedly, amazing. The moaning woman -- the monologue about the dominatrix escort -- deserves its own little special place in Falcon history, if not for the litany of moans from the cast... hopefully no husbands will be in the audience to hear what it sounds like when it is, indeed, faked. And, to the sole woman of color on the cast (which was disappointing), your coochie snorcher monologue was beautiful. And to my lesbian reader (singular, I think :-)), you'll be a little more than excited by Julie Niesen's description of woman-on-woman love... shockingly, I wished it would have gone on longer.

As we left, Jere asked me: I wonder how many people who see Monologues actually need to? I suppose I am one of those people that need to see more shows like this -- I can be, at times, mildly misogynistic and perhaps inappropriate when it comes to womankind -- and I would challenge you to take the opportunity to see if, maybe, you are one of those people by checking it out.

Tickets are $15 (online reservations), and I would say you probably get a good $11 or $12 of enjoyment out of it. I think you'll leave glad you went, even if, at times, it drags a bit.

And besides, what better way to spend one of your evenings of Pride? Seriously, folks, it's like the Falcon planned its opening to correspond.

Anyways, sorry I won't see you guys out this weekend :-(, but catch you at the parade!