Nine-Seven. Where We Take Inappropriate To a Whole New Level
I’ve seen some strange things in my day. I’ve even seen some reaaal freaky shit. Like The Amazing Johnathan. But Thursday evening took it to a place even I wasn't ready for.
Let me set the stage. Then we’ll address what happened on stage.
I have been in San Francisco for a physician’s meeting. Lectures, workshops and the like. I would say about 200 surgeons and an additional 100 industry professionals. Typically at these things, we’ll break around 4-5 pm and enjoy an open bar, hors d'oeuvres, and a few hours of socialization until it’s time to break off and fulfill our more intimate evening plans. Which often consist of lavish dinners, cases of wine and martinis, limos and titty bars. Its how business gets done and it’s why anything medically related is So. Damn. Expensive. Thank you, by the way.
Thursday evening. 5:30. Bars are scattered throughout the ballrooms, flanked by carving tables with prime ribs, rabbit, pressed hams, and linked to the maze of anti-pasta trays, Asian finger food, dim sum, cheeses and crackers, salmon locks, etc. You get the idea.
And then the entertainment starts. If you're interested (and I know I am), they'll be traveling Montreal for the next two years.
Two hours of kid contortionist and rhythmic gymnasts bend their nine-year old bodies into positions and poses that would make Chris Hansen say, “Well, now I get it.”
I can honestly say that this was an extraordinary display of Cirque du Soleil-like flexibility and gymnastics and was ultimately quite impressive. I’m just not sure putting this kind of entertainment in the center of a ballroom on a 12” stage in front of an audience that consists of 98% male horn-dog surgeons, was the appropriate thing to do. I didn’t realize I was a pedophile until about 5:35 pm. I'm kidding. It's art, I understand that. Like threading a needle. Or choosing a poor metaphor.
However, there was a magician walking around and working the crowd, seeking out those who prefer a more traditional form of entertainment. Unlike David Blaine, she didn’t trick me into watching two hours of television just to see a guy hold his breath.
Sit tight kids, we’re not done with this yet.
Let me set the stage. Then we’ll address what happened on stage.
I have been in San Francisco for a physician’s meeting. Lectures, workshops and the like. I would say about 200 surgeons and an additional 100 industry professionals. Typically at these things, we’ll break around 4-5 pm and enjoy an open bar, hors d'oeuvres, and a few hours of socialization until it’s time to break off and fulfill our more intimate evening plans. Which often consist of lavish dinners, cases of wine and martinis, limos and titty bars. Its how business gets done and it’s why anything medically related is So. Damn. Expensive. Thank you, by the way.
Thursday evening. 5:30. Bars are scattered throughout the ballrooms, flanked by carving tables with prime ribs, rabbit, pressed hams, and linked to the maze of anti-pasta trays, Asian finger food, dim sum, cheeses and crackers, salmon locks, etc. You get the idea.
And then the entertainment starts. If you're interested (and I know I am), they'll be traveling Montreal for the next two years.
Two hours of kid contortionist and rhythmic gymnasts bend their nine-year old bodies into positions and poses that would make Chris Hansen say, “Well, now I get it.”
I can honestly say that this was an extraordinary display of Cirque du Soleil-like flexibility and gymnastics and was ultimately quite impressive. I’m just not sure putting this kind of entertainment in the center of a ballroom on a 12” stage in front of an audience that consists of 98% male horn-dog surgeons, was the appropriate thing to do. I didn’t realize I was a pedophile until about 5:35 pm. I'm kidding. It's art, I understand that. Like threading a needle. Or choosing a poor metaphor.
However, there was a magician walking around and working the crowd, seeking out those who prefer a more traditional form of entertainment. Unlike David Blaine, she didn’t trick me into watching two hours of television just to see a guy hold his breath.
Sit tight kids, we’re not done with this yet.
