It has been known for sometime now that we all think we should be friends, buddies and pals with our children. We want to look like them, dress like them, act like them and have all the fun they are having. We want to go to a rave with them even though we are old now and we do not have the physical ability to participate in a rave. This is a good thing because a few of us will actually need a brain at sometime in the future and it is well known that if you had a brain before you jumped into the rave you will not have your brain any more when you are bodily flung out of the rave.
In keeping with this line of thought, some organizers in England who were probably former rave arrangers decided to reach out to (obviously younger) people and meet them halfway on the road to sheer insanity by making an opera more excitable and more fun for them to attend. This seems to be a great idea since most younger folks would rather suffer through four hours of severe upper leg cramps (in both legs) than go to the opera.
They proposed making the opera more appealing by having the audience members stand and noisily cheer the performance rather than quietly semi-clapping their daintily gloved hands. This was based on their belief that a little more action from firing up the crowd would liven up the entire evening.
So they had Handel’s “Messiah” performed at England’s Bristol Old Vic Theatre.
When the performance moved to the stirring “Hallelujah Chorus,” a prominent and half-crazy theoretical chemist named David Glowacki became slightly unglued and attempted to crowd-surf in front of the stage. He said he could not control himself when they broke into the “Hallelujah Chorus.”
This is written as a warning to you older people who think you can fall-in with the younger nut-cases and “crowd-surf” your way through life.
I’m not sure if the fact that Dr.Glowacki’s being an expert in non-equilibrium molecular reaction dynamics had something to do with him evidently losing his equilibrium and flinging his body length-wise on the heads of unsuspecting swells of the upper class.
All I’m sure of is, crowd-surfing like a sixteen year old at a rave can get your fat fanny tossed out the stage door of England’s Bristol Old Vic in a royal heartbeat. It was not theoretical chemistry. It was literal ejection. Don’t let it happen to you.
Rave on…..in your bathroom and crowd-surf…..in your head.