Anthony Bromberg abromberg@media.ucla.edu
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Few things can incite fear, induce terror, perk up the flight or
fight reflex, at the same level as, well, talent shows.
Every person has that favorite memory of being up in front of a
crowd trying feebly to make their skit, or song, or magic trick, or
other freakish carnie-type ability, come off as cool. Just then,
though, much to everyone’s chagrin, they get the age old
advice messed up and suddenly feel like they, not the people in the
crowd, are the naked ones.
Now that it’s time for UCLA’s annual pseudo-talent
show, “Spring Sing,” we have to confront one of the
comic paradoxes of life once again.
Granted, this is no longer that awkward moment in fifth grade
when in front of the auditorium you put on sunglasses and
lip-synced to MC Hammer only to find out that the kid after you had
baggier pants. You don’t hold a grudge. Granted, this is a
mass media world we live in, a world where exhibitionists and
voyeurs are learning to co-exist in exciting ways. Granted, this is
college.
But, wait, think about it.
This isn’t what talent shows are about. Talent shows are
about vulnerable idiocy. Talent shows are something you do at camp.
Talent shows are for when you get together with a slightly dynamic
group of people and one of them knows five chords on a guitar and
two Beatles songs, and you’re all going to bond by performing
for each. But, really you’ll forget about them except maybe a
drunken IM conversation where you’ll tell them that really
you had a thing for their best friend. And when you run into each
other two years from now at a sex addicts meeting and end up in bed
together there will be that intensely awkward moment where they
remember you making an ass out of yourself for doing that stupid
choreography to a Rascals song. Then when you don’t call each
other, neither of you think any better or worse of it, and when you
think of it at all, it is with an acidic feeling in your
stomach.
There’s no chance of that with Spring Sing. There’s
no charm, no quaint quirky fun. I’ll miss all that.
Instead, what you have is a bunch of probably mid-level talent
being judged by has-been or never-was celebrities. Let’s be
honest: if I wanted to go see mid-level comedy or music, it is
already rampant around Southern California.
Yes, at Spring Sing it will be my collegiate peers, which is one
positive thing. But, since it is my peers shouldn’t I help
them make it a worthwhile “talent” show?
Let’s see what we can do to bring the slightly talented
folk back down to true talent fare:
A streaker or two would always do the trick. They interrupt
things smashingly and will throw the performers for a complete
loop, especially if they are fat or really hairy.
There’s also the traditional really loud off-putting
screams. So, if you have a friend or family member from Alabama
(NASCAR country) this might be a great time to let them come out in
a big public place. Loud random noises accompanying vulgar shouts
would be good too.
Also, you should probably bring things to throw. A good water
balloon or paper airplane or brick would probably do the trick.
Don’t be afraid to be creative either. Do anything you can
to knock the Spring Singers off their stride. If you want to come
dressed as a giant yellow banana with a bongo drum and stilts, then
by all means do it.
Anyhow, I’ll be there (in my underwear, as I think that
would be ironically unexpected) watching (and distracting) all in
the name of good fun and community and memories of a UCLA Friday
night.