Over a year ago, our family saw the film
Hairspray in the movie theater and acquired the CD of its soundtrack (remember
this and
this?). We had seen snippets of the musical itself on TV (thanks to the
Tony Awards show, talk shows that would invite the Broadway cast to perform a number, and
YouTube) and liked what we saw, so when we discovered in September that
Hairspray would be coming to Bismarck tonight on tour, Susan and I decided to get tickets for the whole family . . . and then
not to tell our daughters. I've written before about our penchant for turning things into
delightful surprises for our daughters. Here's how it happened this time:
When the window for ticket sales opened, Susan went on-line and ordered us the best seats available. She printed out the tickets and stored them in our home office. So far, nothing for the girls to know or suspect. Susan and I waited eagerly for weeks. Finally tonight arrived.
Recently
the girls joined the swim team, meaning tonight from 4:00 to 6:00 P.M.
should have been a swimming practice for them. However, Dickinson's wintertime
Parade of Lights was tonight at 5:30, and the girls' swim team planned to ride on a float in the parade. Our daughters wondered, then, why we shooed them out of the house at 4:15.
Q: "Why so early?"
A: "We like to be early for things."
[Not a lie.]Q: "Are we going out to eat first or something?"
A: "Tonight's Friday, and Mommy usually makes homemade pizza on Friday nights."
[Also not a lie. There's the implication
that pizza will be on the menu tonight and the implication
, therefore, that we are not going out to eat--but no outright lie.]The confused facial expressions continued as we had them take
off their snowboots and put
on regular street shoes. (Q: "Wouldn't we be warmer on the float with our snowboots?" A: "Hurry, everybody out to the van."
[Still no lying.]) They wondered, in silence, why I turned right instead of left, driving us away from the parade and toward a gas station. They wondered, in silence, why I insisted on a full tank of gas before driving to the parade a mere couple of miles away. The silence broke, however, when I pulled onto the Interstate.
Susan and I were (purposely) engaged in conversation about our workdays, so the girls did not interrupt us; but we could hear Hillary and Suzanna whimpering and expressing concern that, wherever in the world we were going, we would be late for the parade . . . and they had told their friends that they would meet them on the float. Nay, more important still: they had
promised their friends. Mommy and I were making them break their
promise!Still, they did not ask where we were going, and neither Susan nor I volunteered any information. Abigail was the most trusting, simply asking if we would pop in a CD to listen to as we drove. I had deliberately chosen some musical soundtracks to bring along for the drive, and guess which one Abigail spied and asked to hear?
Hairspray. So over the sobs of Suzanna and Hillary, Susan and I joined Abigail in singing along loudly as we drove eastward, away from the parade and toward a destination unknown to the children.
The protests quieted down as children fell asleep for late-afternoon naps. Everyone was awake and refreshed as we reached Mandan and simultaneously got to the end of the
Hairspray CD. They still asked no questions as I drove into Bismarck and pulled into the parking lot of
Quizno's . . . directly adjacent to the
Bismarck Civic Center, where
Hairspray was being performed. Suzanna saw the "no parking" part of a sign that said "no parking here for Civic Center events," so I used that as an opportunity to nonsuspiciously move the vehicle across the street into the Civic Center parking lot, telling the girls that it was better to be safe in our parking spot selection. We then walked back to the restaurant and ate our sub sandwiches.
They thanked Susan and me for taking them out to eat but wondered why we had driven all the way to Bismarck to eat at a chain restaurant that we have in Dickinson, too. Would we be shopping afterward, too? No. Then why drive all this way for a sub sandwich? Well, that was a perfectly legitimate question, but it couldn't go answered and still maintain the surprise, so I went on the offensive: Don't you
appreciate getting to go out to eat? Yes, of course; thank you, Mommy and Daddy. Surprise maintained.
Afterward we walked over toward the Civic Center, and the girls--seing the parking lot now full and swarms of people crossing the street to enter the building--wondered if we were going to a concert there or to see
another show by Garrison Keillor. I suggested we go inside with everybody else just to see what was going on there tonight. There were no posters for
Hairspray on the doors or walls, so the girls were still clueless. In fact, the only signs up were for a "
clothing mega sale," so we let the girls conclude that we (and everybody else in their fixed-up hair and fancy clothes) were there to shop for clothes.
On the way in, we saw friends and one of my students, all of whom stopped to talk without mentioning the word
Hairspray--so far, so good. We got through the ticket scanning and made it up the stairs before an usher offered Suzanna a program. As soon as she saw the logo for
Hairspray on the cover, the secret was out! And the hugs began . . . and the tears (Hillary was so thankful that she cried and buried her head in Mommy's bosom) . . . and the thanks . . . and the apologies for not trusting us that, wherever we were going, we were headed off to something better than sitting on a float for a parade in December in ND!
It was an absolutely terrific show. And it was wonderful to watch the girls' reactions. Afterward they couldn't say enough compliments about it. They loved knowing all the music ahead of time and knowing what to expect plot-wise and seeing how the events that they knew from the movie were represented differently on stage. The cast was chock-full of great performers, too. One particularly fun moment was during the number "You're Timeless to Me," sung by Edna and Wilbur, the parents of the main character, Tracy. The actor playing Edna broke character and started giggling during a fermata toward the end of the song, and while he (yes, a man is always cast to play the role of Edna, true to the original film that inspired all subsequent versions--read
more) tried to regain his composure during the hold in the song, the audience laughed along with him and clapped and loved the moment.
Among those in attendance, the girls saw many of the teachers from their school; I saw two students from my current classes; we saw a friend from our community theatre days in Grand Forks (now living in Bismarck) and her two daughters; and we saw two friends from our summer theatre days in Walhalla. Afterward we took the girls out for dessert at
T.G.I. Friday's--where we saw a former DSU colleague and his wife (now living in Bismarck). They had been at the musical, too, and recognized so many people in the audience that he wondered if the city of Dickinson had chartered a bus!
Despite their initial misgivings, the girls ended up having a great night, and Susan and I enjoyed surprising them yet again!
