Humor
Laughing Matters: The One with Muppets
By Ryan G. Van Cleave | Illustrations by Darcy Kelly-Laviolette
For reasons that would require an entire column’s worth of explanation, I have season tickets to this year’s musical series at the Barbara B. Mann Performing Arts Hall in Ft. Myers. Guilty as charged.
I recently saw the fifth event in the series, entitled “Tap Dogs.” According to the group’s website, it’s “a high-adrenaline, full-voltage experience which combines the art of tap dance, with an industrial infused theatre experience.”
(I don’t know why the superfluous comma is in there, but that’s yet another entire column’s worth of musing/rage/entertainment.)
After the Tap Dogs finished their final step-heel heel-step combo, I rode the elevator down with two ladies who sat near me during the show, gabbing incessantly and unwrapping cough drops in crinkly wrappers the entire time. Or nearly so. Let’s call them Statler and Waldorf, since those grumpy Muppets clearly served as their spirit animals.
Here’s the official transcript of that 30-second elevator ride.
Statler: Sure, they’re talented and all, but why all the moving around? The up and down, the down and up?
Waldorf: Why CAN’T they stay in one place?
Statler: But they are talented.
Waldorf: And handsome enough, if you like that sort of thing.
Statler: But the down! The up!
Waldorf: It’s too much!
Statler: So much. But at least they have talent.
Waldorf: Of course. Though it was entirely too much.
Statler: That’s true.
Waldorf: But what can you say? Talent, right?
Unfortunately, I seemed to have parked next to their late 90s silver Cadillac, so I heard variations on this theme all the way to and through the parking lot. At one point, they couldn’t decide which of them had driven, and they both got out keys to see which opened the car.
That’s when I roared out of the parking lot.
Don’t get me wrong. This is not an anti-Muppet rant. I LOVE the Muppets. Some of my best friends are Muppets. But when it comes to day-to-day living, channeling the spirit of those two cantankerous fellows in their stage left balcony is a poor idea here in the real world. That kind of thing is best left to humor columns. And to The Muppet Theater (the commonly-used name of the grand old vaudeville-style venue for The Muppet Show, though in episode 106, Kermit said its official name was “The Benny Vandergast Memorial Theater”).
While I’m thankful the two ladies who ruined “Tap Dogs” for me did so with their unaware noisiness versus the active heckling the real Statler and Waldorf did, they still proved as annoying as one’s armpit being infested by sand fleas. My father—an amateur Statler—tells me that older people should get a pass on many things thanks to age. Is there a chart somewhere that explains the real perks of getting older?
Age 55—senior discount on coffee at McDonald’s
Age 60—senior discount on coffee at Burger King (free with AARP card)
Age 62—free coffee at Big Boy Restaurants
Age 65—ability to wear a fanny pack anytime, anywhere (they’re SO practical!)
Age 75—being okay with backing out of the driveway without looking
Age 85—carte blanche to speak your mind no matter where you are or who you’re with (bonus points for saying any of the following: “whippersnappers,” “The Google,” or “jukebox”)
What I really took from the whole “Tap Dogs” debacle is this—even beyond those two ladies who plagued me during my show, Florida has its fair share of Statlers and Waldorfs who seem fully committed to provide running, annoyed commentary on the world around them.
Let me prove it to you anecdotally by simply using source material from the past five days of my not-so-crazy life as a writer, teacher, parent of two kiddos, and amateur papaya grower (yet another column idea right there!). To protect the innocent—and because I have no idea who these people were—I have replaced all the names below with “Statler” and “Waldorf.”
Evidence 1—Long line at Publix deli on Fruitville
Statler: Do the subs have to be so big?
Waldorf: Who would want such a thing?
Statler: What a waste!
Waldorf: What are they thinking?
Evidence 2—Bench at Ken Thompson Park
Statler: What do you mean, we don’t have seasons here? We have seasons here.
Waldorf: Right. Pollen season, hurricane season, parka season, and OMG season.
Statler: I thought it was hurricane season, love bug season, tourist season, and then summer!
Waldorf: I wish Florida were still like it was when I visited as a kid. It had one big, long beautiful season the whole time.
Statler: I blame Trump.
Waldorf: I blame Obama.
Statler: El Niño.
Waldorf: Bruce Springsteen.
Evidence 3—Early morning coffee rush line at Starbuck’s on Fruitville and Honore
Waldorf: Macchiato? I think I’ve got an ointment at home that’ll clear that right up.
Statler: Frapp-a-what-o?
Waldorf: How do I just order a damn coffee?
Statler: What happened to medium? On what planet is a “tall” the same as a “medium”?
Waldorf: $2.45? For one coffee? Is it served up in a golden cup by Helen of Troy in a diamond-studded flapper outfit?
Evidence 4—Inside a Parkway 8 movie theater
Statler: I haven’t been to the pictures in a long time.
Waldorf: Didn’t we see this exact show here last week?
Statler: Yes. But that doesn’t count. The popcorn was awful.
Waldorf: What’d you order this time?
Statler: The popcorn. I wanted to see if it was as bad as last time.
So there you go, my Florida friends. We’re the grumpiest state going. If you don’t believe me, I’ve got a pair of tickets in the nosebleed seats for the final musical in the Barbara Mann series that I’ll sell you. Cheap, cheap, cheap. But it’s BYOCWC (bring your own crinkly wrapped candies).
Got your own Waldorf and Statler exchange that makes you want to howl at the moon? Do you have a great Muppet story that has nothing to do with anything but is worth sharing nonetheless? Any dynamite overhead anecdote about what’s wrong with Florida, coffee, movies, or fun?
If the answer to any of these is a resounding YES!!!!!!!, then send me the 411 ASAP at RyanLovesMuppets@scenesarasota.com with the subject line “Please Delete.” I’ll be waiting.
You must be logged in to post a comment Login