Another Ramble

My niece — the one whose birth I was present for and whose marriage I was blessed to have performed — has a podcast she started a few months ago. She does the podcast with Stephone, a friend and co-worker.

Stephone and Jenny basically spend 45-55 minutes each week discussing … well … things. Superhero movies (which I hate). Current events. Sports (which Jenny hates). Events in their lives. Their podcast is pretty much an unscripted ramble. Check it out here, if you are interested.

Because I regularly comment on the podcast in texts and comments on social media posts, I’ve become a regular “character” on the podcast which amuses me. I’m “Uncle Mark” or as Stephone recently referred to me, “Uncle Paxson.” The other thing that amuses me is that my character on the podcast is their check in on what may be offensive. As in, “I hope that didn’t offend my uncle.”

This amuses me. One of the thing that I like most about the podcast is that they are not politically correct. To be honest, thought, they could be a lot edgier than they are. But I enjoy everything about their podcast. The language, the repartee, the unwillingness to respect sacred cows. So, yeah, it doesn’t offend me.

* * * * *

Around this time last year, I got the Queen Midget a present. March begins the trifecta for me. Our anniversary is this month (by the way, this year is the big 25), and then Mother’s Day and her birthday are in May. That’s a lot of pressure on a guy. The gift last year was a five-pack of tickets for the 17-18 series of musicals being staged at the Sacramento Community Center Theater.

You see … I hate musicals.

There is no worse genre of live performance or movie in the world.

None whatsoever.

I loathe them. In years past, I frequently got my Queen tickets for one musical.

What was I thinking?  Five.

The first performance we saw was Beautiful, a musical based on the life and music of Carole King. It wasn’t bad. I enjoyed a lot of her songs and have included one or two in my Spotify playlists. But it was still a musical.

The second performance was … well, I don’t remember the name … but it was about a playwright in the time of Shakespeare who desperately wanted to compete with the Bard and achieve similar success.

So …

I hate Shakespeare. More than I hate musicals.

* * * * *

One of the problems is that all of these musicals are on Wednesday night. They don’t start until 8:00 and don’t end until 10:30. Which tends to mean that what I really want to do is sleep through them.

* * * * *

A couple of Wednesday ago, we went to the third musical in the series. As I do, I went somewhere for a beer while I waited for my Queen to join me for dinner. I posted a picture on Instagram and disclosed that I was waiting for the play.

My niece texted me and told me she was going to the play that night also. We then had a conversation via text about her podcast and about how I thought it funny that I am their “offensive” test because I am totally done with political correctness and having to care about people’s feelings and how done I am with the culture of rage that is developing in this country.

I had dinner with the Queen Midget and a couple of friends who were also going and then we made our way to the theater, where we were set to see The Book of Mormon.

* * * * *

Years ago, I rented the movie What About Bob? and took it home to watch. I don’t remember the circumstances of why, but I was home alone and sat down to enjoy the flick. I stopped watching after about 20 minutes because I wasn’t interested in watching a movie make fun of the mentally ill for 90 minutes.

I had the same sense as The Book of Mormon launched into its first song. As opposed as I am to our politically correct culture and the outraged reaction many have to satirical pokes in the eye, I wondered if I could really stomach a 2 1/2 hour play that essentially  makes fun of a religion.

And, boy, does it do that. The play is pretty stunning in just how far it goes. I’ll spare you the details and not provide any spoilers here, but … WOW!!! It is entertaining. It is funny. It is outrageous and I admit I enjoyed it.

But at the end I was left with an uncomfortable feeling of several thousand people sitting in a theater laughing as a religion and its followers were pilloried.

* * * * *

I know that there are plenty of good Mormons who have seen The Book of Mormon and have been entertained by it. I also know that the woman sitting next to me (not my Queen, but on the other side) never laughed through the entire thing.

I know that there are plenty of things about the Mormon origin story that are worthy of satire. Much like just about any religion. Seriously — whether it is walking on water, golden tablets nobody else gets to see, or riding to heaven on the back of a winged horse — every religion has an origin story that just … well, I’ll leave that there. And Mormonism has a wealth of odd circumstances in its founding that play to the skeptic in me.

I know that the Mormons I have met throughout my life are some of the kindest, most decent, happiest people I have ever met. When I was in law school, I got to know a small group of Mormon students who were there. They were remarkable for two things — they already had families and kids, and they were so balanced and even-keeled, always in a good mood.

What I don’t know is what I think about The Book of Mormon. It’s entertaining and funny, but I felt like it was just one step too far. And I don’t want to believe in political correctness.

Sheesh. I’m a mess.