Last night Jordy and I dressed nicely and went to see the ballet The Roar of Love. I knew this was based on the C.S. Lewis story The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Oh, my.
First, some guy came out and talked about Focus on the Family. He thanked a lot of people. Then, another guy came out. He also talked about Focus on the Family, and thanked the same people as the first guy.
Then, an ambiguously gay man and his ambiguously lesbian wife came out, and thanked the same people as the first two people, plus addeds some plugs for their dance studio. Yay. Twenty minutes in, and the ballet hasn't started yet. Things weren't looking good, and Jordy was grinding her teeth next to me.
Okay, ballet time. I knew this wasn't going to get much better when the curtain came up, and the dancing started to a bad disco version of "O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing" while a huge cross was projected onto the wall.
It did get better- somewhat (I mean, really, how could it get worse?). I was interested, and perhaps slightly disturbed to note that all of the black dancers seemed to be cast as villains. Oh, those silly Christians!
Jordy and I left at intermission, almost grateful that her sickness allowed a graceful exit.