Our quest to find edu-tational distractions for ourselves and our brood of two, recently led us here.
Habitual YASTM readers may recall our centennial brush with the musical named for our great panhandled state. My Wife had heard about this little gem of live musical theater out in the environs just west of Tulsa for years, but had never experienced it for herself.
Other than the fact that a nice Jewish girl form Florida was playing Laurey and a handsome canuck did the honors as Curley (both of whom were terrific and a joy to watch on stage) the production was first rate and so far beyond our expectations that we promised ourselves we'd return to partake of the Seven Brides for Seven Brothers production before the theater goes dark in the fall.
The pre-show activities were a nice distraction from the heat and humidity offered by the Sand Springs atmosphere, as was the ribeye sandwich cowboy supper offered up as part of a deluxe D-land USA package.
Yet amidst all the cowboy frontier revelry -- the Pony Express demonstration, the Native American dancer, mechanical bull ride (couldn't get PK off of this thing yelling, "faster, faster" to the operator), not to mention the play itself -- a tad of pre-teen modernism crept forward in the face of my 8-year old when asked by the Native American face painter if she wanted some authentic "Indian" markings on her face, to which she replied, "No thanks...what'd I'd really like is a big heart with the words, "Go Girl!" around it."