When I was in grade school, I used to do a lot of musical theatre. You may think, lots of shows means lots of flowers from your family, no?
No. You’re wrong.
You know the saying that men will only get flowers at their funeral? I think that’s 100% true given the horrors I’ve been gifted over the years. The closest thing I’ve ever been given to flowers after a show was a type of cactus called “roadkill cactus” by my friends. Never from my family. Warning: this piece contains some harsh realities of what it’s like to be a man. Welcome to our dull lives.
A bouquet of socks
In 2019, after my production of Grease, I walked out of the greenroom with a smile on my face. My mom gave me a giant hug and congratulated me on my job well done.
“We wanted to give you something that rewards how well you did,” my mom said with a grin on her face. Oh no.
Out from behind her back emerged a bouquet — of socks. Tied with a piece of twine and wrapped in gently-used underwear, I was genuinely ready to burst into tears. What the fuck was my life, man? “Your sweat during your rehearsals probably ruined all of your socks, so I thought I’d buy you some. And I got half-off underwear, too.”
A shovel
What a performance to remember. Back in 2020, I was casted as Link, the lead of the play Hairspray. As I looked around and saw my women co-stars greeting their family with beautiful flowers. Chocolates. Cards. I sighed as I waited to see what I would be receiving this time.
“Here’s a shovel,” my father told me, laying it in my hands. “Now that you’ve got more free time, you can do some yardwork. What do you say, bud?” Nothing says “I’m proud of you” before you even take your costume off.
Honestly, that one wasn’t even that bad. After consulting with my other guy castmates, I found out that some other gifts included garden gloves, a pair of used socks, and an air freshener (supposedly for the socks). Seriously, what’s the obsession with socks??
A chainsaw
Before my part in Mama Mia! in 2023, I had specifically mentioned to my parents how badly I wanted some flowers. Even if it was just one singular flower that I could put in a vase in my room.
Which is why I was elated when I saw my mother holding flowers outside of my greenroom after my performance. As I reached to grab the bouquet, my dad popped out of nowhere.
With a chainsaw.
“RAWWRRRRR MOTHERFUCKER!”
I tilted my head down, hearing just the sounds of my dad laughing. As I looked up, my mother handed me the stems of the flowers. Like what the actual fuck? Who’s against giving men flowers so much that they’d send a message like that?
Well, at least I have some stems in my scrapbook now. Such is the life of a theatre boy.
