Feb 8

Written by: host
2/8/2007 12:00 AM

Twas A Memorable Evening
 
 
(This was originally an email to my family. Some details have to be explained. Mary Jane
(Mare), Sally and Jim are, respectively, my sisters and one of my three brothers. Marilyn
is my sister-in-law. Sally owns a condo at the Four Seasons in Atlanta. My niece Allison,
Jim and Marilyn’s daughter, is having her wedding reception there next year. Internal
references explained.)
 
This is going to be really long. Get a drink, smoke 'em if you got 'em. T'was a memorable
evening. I'll leave it at "memorable" for now. Note I didn't say "great" or "terrible"
because it was, well, both.  
 
The basic plan was this. The day I flew in from Boston (after five days on the road) my
daughters and a few of their friends, along with Courtney Boehlke, one of the friend’s
mother, to be picked up by limo and driven in-town to an upscale restaurant (Veni, Vidi,
Vice) in Atlanta. Following that, we had tickets for the Cirque Du Soleil (mutter mutter)
Rouge section, which included a "meet the cast" party at 7PM. Then "Corteo", girls get
driven back to Jefferson in the limo and Miriam and I collapse in a hotel. I picked the
Four Seasons both to check out the "hotel" aspects for next year and because it was very
convenient. The occasion was, more or less, my oldest daughter’s thirteenth birthday.
 
Evening was black tie. Miriam had spent hours (about thirty, literally) finding just the
right dresses for the girls and they were really stunning I have to admit.
 
Timing was going to be tight, but I figured we could make it with luck.
 
Ever have one of those evenings where everything that could go wrong did go wrong? If
this had been a date I'd have to ask my date "was it good for you?" Because it was both
absolutely screwed up, to the point of using the word "horrifying", and amazingly
wonderful. I will now proceed to eventuate the saga we embarked upon which I entitle:
An Evening At the Circus. With Lemons and Lemonade.  
 
First inkling that things were not going to go right was that Miriam's dress never arrived.
She stopped by a Goth used clothing store (very nice one, Psycho Sisters in Clarkesville)
she frequents on the way into town. Actually she called them and said: "Hi, this is
Miriam. I've got a formal event this evening and my dress didn't arrive. Can you pick me
out some things? I'm in a terrible hurry!" Their response? "You're a size 2, right? I'll have
some stuff for you to choose from when you get here."  
 
Like I said, she'd been there before.
:-)
 
She got a very nice dress for an incredibly reasonable price. Not as nice as the one we'd
ordered but... I think if she had worn that one she would have outshown the girls, which
neither she nor I would have preferred. As it was, it was a very nice dress, quite right for
the evening. But not so stunning that she stood out more than Jenny and Lindy. Well,
except for the blue hair.  
:-)
 
So, the dress emergency rectified by my wonderful GF, we were ready to go. We ended
up scrambling because both of us were exhausted and we lagged too much but we weren't
going to be that late to the restaurant.  
 
Then I forgot the tickets. Miriam and I had gone over to the restaurant (which was two
blocks from the hotel) to get our table. Got seated, realized I'd forgotten the tickets. In a
tux I hustled my ass up 14th street, waited for the elevator, got the tickets, hustled my ass
back downstairs and headed out the...  
 
"John?"
 
I had sort of recognized the person calling to me. Wasn't sure from where...
 
"Mary Jane? What the hell are you???"
 
Turned out it was Sally's birthday. (Sorry I forgot, Sis. Alot on my mind doesn't cover it.)
Mare (who lives in Minneapolis) was in town to celebrate and they were meeting Jim and
Marilyn. For dinner. At Veni, Vide, Vici.
:-)
 
Well, actually they were meeting them at the hotel then going over. I explained, in
somewhat incoherent terms, what was going on. We were already getting late, it was
around six and that was when the girls were supposed to arrive. Given a normal dinner,
getting to Cirque on time was getting unlikely. but the show didn't start until eight, so we
should be okay. So we don't meet the cast and the difference in price (sizable) became
moot. Oh, well. As long as not too many things went wrong. (You can guess where this is
going.)
 
I finally broke contact with Mare and Sally and headed to the restaurant. Only to be
waylaid by Jim and Marilyn as they were driving up. I managed to cut that one fairly
short and hurried on my way.
 
A digression. I have four pairs of dress shoes. Three are only slightly dressy. Two of
those are quite comfortable. My dressiest are my tassel loafers. Very nice looking shoes.
Hurt like hell to walk in. The back edge really cuts into my achilles tendon and with
heavy use causes a blister.  
 
I was, by then, blistering. And muttering. And cursing. And I couldn't get ahold of the
limo driver to find out where he was because I'd never been given his number. I saw him
drive past, I was pretty sure. Atlanta doesn't have that many stretch white limos driving
around at any one time. He should have already dropped the girls at the restaurant. It was
the direction he was driving. Where the hell was he?
 
I got to the restaurant actually right behind the girls. And they all looked absolutely
gorgeous and knew it. Lindy's dress was a stunning red and white thing. Jenny's was, if
anything, better black and white and frilly. Best I can do. And they both were clearly
enjoying the adventure. I mean, usually going somewhere with Daddy involves fish-
scales, heavy duty ski gear or being dragged up a mountain in a thunderstorm. Formal
dresses had not previously been on the agenda. Like I said, aspects of awful, aspects of
wonder. Running late, traffic from hell, girls looked wonderful and knew it. Screw it, that
was the important part, all else was dross.  
 
But by then it was late. I think it was about six forty-five, but I'm fuzzy on time by then.
Jim, Marilyn, Sally and Mare came in shortly after we were seated and there was a
general photo session. Much fun was had by all but the TIME. I told myself not to stress
about it. As long as we got to the show on time, more or less, that was all that mattered.
The idea was for the girls to have a good time, not for Daddy to freak out. Freaking out
would equal not having a good time. Don't freak.  
 
Finally, dinner was finishing up (I cannot for the life of me recall what I had) and I asked
Courtney to call the limo guy. She was supposed to have the number.
 
Now, I don't use limos much. I'm not Mr. Rock-Star. If I don't use a rent-a-car or a
subway I generally use taxis. I've been picked up somewhere twice, both times when
either someone else arranged it or I knew I needed that sort of support.  
 
But I've used them a few times. Sometimes it's just easier to use the hotel's "car" than to
take a cab. There's a standard "thing" with them. They drop you off and if you're paying
them to hold they give you a number and their card so you can call them back. Even if
they're more casual "for hire" limos or the "hotel's car", they give you a card so you call
them after whatever you've been dropped off for. Repeat custom and all that.  
 
Well, the driver had given Courtney a number but she hadn't, apparently, gotten it
programmed in her phone. And he sure as hell hadn't given her a card with his number. I
called the service and there was nobody there. (Also unusual. There is normally someone
manning the phones on a "busy" night for just such emergencies.)  
 
Bottomline: We couldn't find the limo. I actually went out and walked around, looking to
see if it was parked nearby. No joy. And it was taking more time. Way too much.  
 
I finally got a cab (I could write a piece nearly as long on watching the idiot try to turn
around on 14th street) and piled the whole crew into it. We proceeded on our way,
finally. The limo driver called when we were about to the Cirque. Someone had
apparently picked up my somewhat angry and frustrated message and called him. This
was the first time I'd spoken to the driver. My immediate reaction was "You need to stop
smoking dope if you're going to be driving my kids around." I didn't say it, but the guy
just sounded stoned. He was assuredly as dumb as a box of rocks. I think I'll forego that
company for my future limousine needs. But I digress.
 
We got to Cirque, I told the driver to park nearby and we'd see him after the show. We
got into our seats right on the dot of eight. So much for "meet the cast." On the other
hand... But no, that would be telling.  
 
So we saw the show. It was very good. I've seen Cirque once before and I preferred that
storyline but the actual acts were, I think, better in this one. They didn't mesh as well to
the story, but... Cirque is always good. All the usual stunning choreography, amazing
feats of acrobatics and such. Cirque really is worth the price of admission, which you
can't say about most things these days.  
 
Sitting up close with Miriam at Cirque is interesting, though. For one thing, when the
performers get close to the edge of the stage and are looking at the audience, there are
regular double-takes. "Woe! Blue hair!" The other interesting aspect is her commentary,
very professional, on the staging and engineering. She trained at the Globe but primarily
focused on backstage stuff and, of course, is into engineering. I'd never seen the
mechanisms before and my first thought was "My God, where do they get those things?
Boeing?" Even the shows about Cirque really don't show the amazing engineering that
goes into the show.  
 
Intermission. Among other things, our seats were on the far side of the tent from the
Rouge tent, so we had to hobble our way all the way around the main tent. (I from my
blisters, the girls because they were all wearing heels and only Miriam and Courtney
were adept at them.) We repaired over there, though, bladders were drained, drinks were
obtained. There was chocolate and strawberries from somewhere. I'm not sure where. I
spent the first half of intermission keeping Miriam company in the lady's room line while
I smoked a cigar and the second half waiting on two of the girls (Kara and Kota) then
escorting them back. We (Kara, Kota and myself) got to our seats slightly after the start
of the second half, maybe thirty seconds. It was, by the way, very damned cold that night.
The girls were freezing both ways. I was in a tux and despite my normal paladin response
was loathe to offer my jacket. Besides, there were three freezing girls (Miriam had
brought capes for Jenny and Lindy) and one jacket. Who got it?  
 
Another digression. My daughters go to school in a small town. The school system is
very good academically but it has the usual issues of being a small town. People in small
towns have categories they want to put people in. My daughters don’t categorize well.
:-)
 
However, to the extent that they do, they are considered “geeks.” I’ve pointed out to them
that in this day and age that’s a good thing. And as usual, most of their friends are in the
same category. The conversation with Kara and Kota was funny on the walk back.  
 
Kara: I hope nobody at school gets pictures of this evening. I don’t even know what I’m
going to say on Monday. “So, what did you do this weekend.” “Well, I went to Atlanta in
a limo, had dinner in a nice restaurant then went to Cirque Du Soleil.” “No, seriously…”
 
Me: And this is a problem how?
 
Kara: I’m wearing a dress. I never wear dresses. It’s a thing with me. And I’m wearing
heels. I make fun of girls that wear heels. My reputation is ruined!
:-)
 
The second half proceeded as it proceeds right up until about five minutes before the end.
The following is rather hard to write coherently because it was rather incoherent until I'd
talked it out with Miriam at length.  
 
A "gentleman" in the row in front of us, about five minutes before the end of the show,
abruptly turned around and started cursing Claire Boehlke, Courtney's 12 year old
daughter, telling her to "shut the fuck up!".  
 
Now, I was two seats from Claire and I don't recall her making much if any noise. The
girls were mostly riveted on the circus. Miriam and I had exchanged a few comments, but
they were very much sotto voce. There was a group behind us being rather more
conversational, but it hadn't even impinged on me and shouldn't have another row down.
Basically, to this day, I don't know what the fuck he was upset about. Okay, my language
is about to go downhill.  
 
I became aware of this when the man's "partner" (male) turned around and said
something to the effect of: "Would you just shut up! You've been talking through the
whole show and absolutely ruined it!"  
 
He was very angry and aggressive. Note that I'm trying to be polite and use language
other than my normal in the situation. What he was was a fucking asshole. And one right
at the edge of violence.
 
I've long since given up dealing with things like that directly. I simply got up and walked
to the entrance to get security.
 
Apparently he followed me. As far as I was aware, he was the primary problem. I was
unaware that his "partner” was the real issue.
 
I walked up to one of the ushers and informed her that there was a person being verbally
abusive at my seat and I wished to have him removed before it got truly ugly. At about
that same moment he walked up and started swearing about how "you just won't shut up!
You've ruined the fucking show!" and on and on, getting right into my space and clearly
on the edge of violence.  
 
I've dealt with it before in lots of places and times. You have a couple of choices. You
can punch their lights out before they realize the fight has started, you can ruin your
clothes by playing "fair" and letting them get a punch in or you can let security handle it.
I ignored him and looked at the ticket taker. There were two. One of them fled while the
other was subjected to an ongoing harangue by the asshole.  
 
In the meantime, unbeknownst to me, things had heated up back down in the seats. I'm
going to try to do this from Miriam's recollection to me. It was rather funny in retrospect.
Miriam does not fight fair.
 
Asshole One to Claire, who was by then in tears: Will you just shut the fuck up!
 
Courtney, leaning forward and holding her hand up in his face: You need to stop talking
like that to my daughter!
 
Asshole One, grabbing Courtney's wrist: Don't you touch me! (To be clear, she hadn't.)
 
Miriam, leaning forward into view: If you don't let her go, you're going to be charged
with assault. Let Her Go.
 
Asshole One, finally seeing Miriam and releasing Courtney: What the hell are you?
(Note, "What" not "who".)
 
Miriam: Your worst nightmare. (I'll note that she had worn her "hypnotiq"  contacts for
the evening. They are black and white swirled like the "hypnosis" ball and make her look
just a tad demonic. What with the blue hair, the dress, the eyes... Had to be a bit of a
shock to the little fa... asshole.)  
 
Asshole One, waving his hands and snapping his fingers: You don't mess with the Queen!
 
Miriam (who has had High Tea with the Queen of England and is a person both well
known and respected in the Atlanta “queen” community): I agree and the next time I have
tea with her I'll make sure to tell her that.  
 
Asshole: You're a freak!
 
Miriam: Thank you.
 
This apparently so confused the guy that he turned around. Only to be subjected to more
abuse by the people sitting next to him (British by the way) who used words like "police"
"assault" and "sue". And not towards our party by any stretch of the imagination.  
 
In the meantime, I was back at the entrance being verbally abused. Which I was ignoring.
Which was confusing the guy. To be blunt, the guy (big guy by the way) was used to
being a bully and having people back down. I doubt that he'd gotten into a serious fight in
a long time. He was used to being able to intimidate by being big and an asshole. I wasn't
intimidated. I wasn't fighting. I wasn’t arguing. I clearly wasn’t frightened. I was ignoring
him. It confused him.  
 
Finally a management type turned up. Asshole Two immediately launched into his
diatribe, but directed at the management type who, it being Cirque, was wearing a leather
trenchcoat I think cost about twice as much as my tux.  
 
The managment type suggested that they take it outside for discussion. I stayed by the
entrance. Miriam turned up and gave me a precis of what was going on in the seats,
although I still thought she was referring to the asshole I was dealing with. When she told
me what had been said and done, well...  
 
I determined that it was time to take it to the next level. And I frankly made an entrance.
Walking through the three curtains they use to keep out external light, I threw the last set
apart with both hands, swept into where Asshole was regaling management with his tale
of woe and boomed:  
 
"It is utterly unacceptable to say "shut the fuck up" to a twelve year old girl. I want this
man charged with verbal assault under the Georgia Penal code."
 
Now, up to that point I had been Mister Politeness himself. Not beta by any stretch, but
quite willing to let the asshole continue his harangue until things got sorted out. And I
don't think, in the darkness, the management type had really gotten a look at me. He'd
been joined by someone else (I later learned the head of security) in the meantime and
they both took one look and tuned asshole out.  
 
Asshole started stuttering that nothing like that had been said and it was suggested that
we (the two Cirque management and myself) take it further outside, which meant in the
cold.
 
I think a few body language clues were evident to the Cirque guys when I swept in. I was
ignoring asshole but keeping him in peripheral and maintaining awareness. I'm pretty
sure the head of security caught that and probably the "management guy." (Ricc, more
about him later.) It didn't hurt that I was wearing a tuxedo and...determined. I wasn't
panicking, I wasn't shouting, I was being cold and professsional in a situation where most
people would either be dithering or performing "bluff' body language. There was no
quaver in my tone, but there was no evident aggression. To an expert, what I was
projecting was "combat professional." And I suspect that they knew that, despite being a
hell of alot bigger than I was, I could and would take down asshole in less than two
seconds. There's this little thing with an elbow...  
 
We went outside. I, with intent, maneuvered them to a secure point. I wanted to make it
clear, without words, that they were dealing with someone other than the usual Mr.
Cirque Goer. Someone who had been in his share of fights and given up the strife rather
than just some clueless pissed off guy. (Which is, alas, true. I can usually avoid them but
since I hate pain I tend to make them short.)  
 
I explained what had been happening from my POV. I reiterated that under Georgia law
what had happened was legally a form of assault and they needed to get it under control.
There were young girls being verbally abused and if it continued someone was going to
jail. I recognized that their first necessity, as members of Cirque, was to pacify the
situation and avoid a scene. But we'd already passed that point.  
 
The show ended. I saw asshole beating feet, and I truly mean fleeing, in the crowd. So
did the Cirque guys. Things calmed down. Introductions were made.
 
The "management type" turned out to be Ricc... I'd have to find the card for his last name,
damnit, the operations manager of the whole Cirque. Note, this was the guy who ran
everything. He'd been in the same position with Cirque in Las Vegas and only recently
taken over the traveling show. Very professional which I came to realize was a hallmark
of Cirque. The girls came out. I gave Ricc and the security guy a chance to talk alone
while I counted noses and ensured there was no physical injury. Miriam was fulminating,
Claire was looking very ragged. Courtney was still looking for the guys who had caused
it, I think with the intent to rip their faces off. Ricc returned, got an earful from Miriam
and Courtney and apologized effusively. We all agreed that there were jerks in the world
and as Miriam said "Cirque can't exactly ask people if they're going to start swearing at
children."  
 
Ricc wanted to make amends. He liked what he did, was proud of the operation and didn't
want people going away unhappy. I suspect it didn't hurt that Miriam clearly caught his
eye. "I love your look" was how he put it a bit later.  
 
Anyway, the upshot was that we took a tour of the backstage area. A loooong one. There
were a couple of areas we didn't hit simply because they were taking things down and
there were safety issues, but we hit just about every point in the operation.  
 
Ricc was, as I mentioned, clearly taken with Miriam. But he was severely impressed
when we got to the area where we could see the rigging and she wanted to talk about the
engineering and choreography aspects. And a bunch of the cast said things like "I saw
you from the stage!" which was funny in itself. The hairdresser fell instantly in love. I
suspect there are going to be some blue-haired performers in an upcoming Cirque. Sigh.  
 
The girls were, meanwhile, having a blast. The cast was streaming out and exchanged a
few words but the girls were mostly interested in just goggling. We only got a few
pictures, but all the tears and worried expressions cleared up fast. Very very few people
get that kind of a tour and to have the operations manager give it during take-down was
especially impressive.  
 
We talked, briefly, with the head rigger who looked as if he was going into battle with all
the gear he had on him. Met a few of the cast without their make-up, etc.  
 
Finally we got escorted back to the cast entrance and met the limo. Cards were exchanged
and Ricc told us the next time we were going to Cirque, anywhere, to call him. Well, he
told Miriam and gave her his private number. Hmmmm...  
:-)
 
We got dropped off at the hotel and the girls headed home. Saying goodbye to the girls is
really the last thing I recall of the evening except wrestling with a stud. And that's only
flash. I woke up the next morning in bed so I suppose I got there somehow.  
 
A few “public” notes. Cirque is, again, well worth the price of admission. I once
considered writing a long essay on Cirque simply because I consider it one of those
“quantum leap” things. To take the traditional acts of circuses, which go back as far as
recorded history, and then to turn them into an entirely new method of story-telling is the
quantum leap. In addition, the acts, themselves, are superb. One thing I hadn’t been able
to add before this encounter is that the people are very cool. Everyone we met was
immensely interesting and professional. I love dealing with world-class people and all the
Cirque people associated with this little encounter and the aftermath were world-class. As
a show, it’s worth the price of admission. As an operation, it’s beyond amazing and I
want to personally thank Ricc and the rest of the cast for their help and support that
evening. What should have been a terrible experience turned out wonderful.
 
Great and terrible things. But mostly…memorable. 

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