… for a long overdue review of last Thursday’s Festival of Talent.
I’m afraid I’ve missed the moment on timely reporting of this event, but due to popular demand, I’m gonna write it anyway.
The 2006 Summer Oasis Festival of Talent lived up to its billing and then some. The music was musical, the magic tricks magical; comedy sketches were funny (sometimes unintentionally so) and Sam made sure that the show was exceptionally gassy.
It was clear by the time the second act hit the stage that this show was going to go far beyond its scheduled hour. Sam was listed ninth of 34 participants, so I counted myself among the luckier parents and enjoyed the first eight performances, including Dan’s guitar solo, Robin’s dance routine, Tyler’s comedy sketch and Robert’s performance of The Amazing Ring of Loops. When George took the stage and began his card trick, Sam peeked out from behind the curtain. He was next, did not appear to be nervous at all, and was obviously enjoying the show, so I relaxed. George reached the end of his card trick without achieving the intended amazing and mystical result, but was quietly yanked from the stage when he declared a “redo.”
The emcees didn’t get to finish announcing “And now, Sam will burp his ABC’s” before Sam approached the microphone and started in, with gusto. Slowly, he belched, carefully enunciating each disgusting letter. “W” was particularly impressive, both in length of utterance and depth of emission. He was not deterred at any point during his alphabet by the giggles and applause emanating from the audience. He made it all the way through, one letter at a time, like a seasoned performer confidently singing his signature ballad.
It. Was. Hilarious. I laughed. I cried. I could barely breathe.
When Sam reached “Z,” the crowd went wild. Loud cheers and applause all around, and a standing ovation and “WOO HOO!!!” from his proud mother.
He stole the show, and he knew it.
After a few minutes basking in the glory of his moment, he sauntered offstage and back to the parents’ section to check in with me for the required post-performance high-five and maternal congratulations. He smirked, held his hand out, and deadpanned, “Mom. Pencil and paper.” When I explained to him that I wasn’t sure what he needed, he said, “Um, you might want my autograph.”
I couldn’t hand the pen over fast enough. He autographed my program. I will cherish it forever.
We left 90 minutes into the one hour show, in search of celebratory frozen treats. We missed Corey’s interpretation of Boulevard of Broken Dreams on the trumpet, one of twelve acts still awaiting time in the spotlight.
Sam reports that his post-show ice cream cone was awesome.