Arts ©Entertainment
Thursday, February 23,1995 Page 9
Curtain!
Travis Heying/DN
Lincoln will be host to the national premiere of the new play, "Bright Girls, Stupid Lives," presented by Theatrix
this weekend at the Studio Theater.
‘Bright Girls’ appeals to both sexes
By Joel Strauch
Senior Reporter
Theatrix will present the very first pro
duction of a new play, “Bright Girls, Stupid
Lives” this weekend.
The story of three women and their rela
tionships, the play deals with issues that
will appeal to both sexes.
Julie Hagemeier, the producing director
for Theatrix, said Lincoln will be host to the
national premiere of the show.
“It will go on to Portland, Oregon and
New York City after here, but we’ll be the
first,” Hagemeier said.
Hagemeier said the play followed the
women through a summer of their lives and
peers into them.
“It is done in a series of real short scenes
that let you peek into their lives on various
days,” she said.
Amy Rohr, a senior theater major and
the play’s director, said she was enticed by
the play at a reading of it held in Lincoln
two years ago.
“Back then it was just a three women
show, but now we’ve expanded it and added
two male roles,” Rohr said.
Rohr said the main attraction of the play
for her was the strength of the women’s
roles.
“These are really good women’s roles
and there’s not a lot of that done in our
department right now,” she said.
Hagemeier said the messages sent by the
play will be enjoyed by both men and
women.
“The boyfriends of two of the women
give their viewpoints as well,” she said.
“Both sexes can find their identity.”
A major theme of the play is finding
strength and learning to deal with weak
ness.
“At the beginning of the play we see
three women who appear to be weak,” Rohr
said. “But by the end we see how strong
they really are.
“They do have their weaknesses, but the
play also shows that it’s okay to have weak
nesses,” she said.
“Bright Girls, Stupid Lives” will show at
the Studio Theater at 8 p.m. from Thursday,
Friday and Saturday and 2 p.m. Sunday.
Tickets are $2 at the door.
Flatwater
will play
in Lincoln
By Joel Strauch
Senior Reporter ' *
The circus is coming to town, but
don’t expect to see any clowns unless
you bring them along.
Flatwater Circus, a Norfolk band,
will play at Knickerbockers Friday night.
Craig Smith, Flatwater Circus rhythm
guitarist and singer, said the band’s
name was an oxymoron. 4
“The two things are so different, just
like our sound,” he said. “We like to
take our music to extremes on both
sides.
“Plus, ‘flatwater’ is the Indian name
for Nebraska.”
In addition to Smith, the band con
sists of his brother Ken Smith, the lead
guitarist and singer, drummer Dan
Leonard and fretted and fretless bass
player Randy Rutten.
Smith said the band’s diversity set
them apart from other bands.
“When I look at other bands, I just
see one sound coming out,” he said.
“But we’ve got influence from all sides.
We can sound Motown one minute and
really heavy the next.”
The band has played in Norfolk for
over two years, and has had pretty good
luck.
“We’ve got a little scene up here,
about five or six bands,” Smith said.
“And there ’ s a new teen nightclub cal led
Music Box Mansion that we play at.”
The club has also been attracting
bands from other cities to come and
play.
“We put on a lot of shows and bring
up bands from Omaha like Gauge,”
Smith said.
But the Circus isn’t afraid to take
their show on the road and set up their
tent in other towns.
“We used to play Omaha frequently,
but it seems like there aren’t as many
places to play there anymore,” he said.
The band has almost been a regular
See CIRCUS on 10
All of life’s problems can be traced to gym class
I tried to work out this morning. You
know, exercise. I hate working out, but I
have no choice; my metabolism works at a
snail’s pace, and I’m not naturally inclined
to do anything that would bum fat or
strengthen my heart.
I sat in the fitness room in front of a
television, stretching and watching “Sally
Jesse Raphael.” I like to watch “Sally” when
I work out because the guests’ lives are so
pathetic, I forget about my own misery. I
forget that I hate to sweat. That I hate to row,
to bike and to climb invisible stairs.
With the help of a friendly expert, Sally
blames most of her guests’ problems on low
self esteem.
“Tina, you wouldn’t be dating your step
father if you had more self esteem.”
“Jim, if you had more self esteem, you
wouldn’t need to have an affair with your
12-year-old babysitter.”
Sally’s right. (She’s also a snappy dresser.)
I blame most of my problems on low self
esteem. If I had more self esteem, I would
enjoy exercise. I’d perceive sweat as
progress. I’d get excited counting how many
watts I’d generated on the Stairmaster.
“Ooooo... five more minutes, and I could
power a dim light bulb.”
I blame my bad attitude on low self
esteem. But I blame my low self esteem on
gym class. I think if they tried, just about
everyone could blame any problem on gym
class.
Sure, a few people were good at gym. In
my grade school class of 30, there were
about five kids who were good in gym.
Tuesday afternoons, we all changed our
shoes and went down to the cafeteria to
watch those five show .off.
Miraculously, those five people usually
excelled at every gym class activity from T
ball to the long jump. In my school, they also
had the nicest gym shoes, round-toed white
Forrest Gump Nikes with big red or blue
swooshes. One girl even had custom-dyed
purple swooshes.
To die for.
I hated gym. The slightest tummy-ache or
hangnail would have me sitting in the nurse’s
office moaning Tuesday after lunch.
Some days, I’d skip altogether to avoid
gym class, especially during Presidential
Fitness Testing. I don’t know which presi
dent thought that was a good idea. But if
third-graders could vote, he’d never hold an
elected office in this country again. He might
even have to move to Mexico.
I was good at only one Presidential cat
egory, the “sit and reach,” a flexibility test.
I could sit and reach all day long. But the
other tests did a number on my self esteem.
I couldn’t do sit-ups or push-ups or pull
ups. I think I skipped mile-run day 10 years
in a row, and the skin fold test made me
question my worthiness as a human being.
Ahh, the skin fold. The gym teacher
would take weird-looking plastic pinchers
and measure the amount of fat on our arms.
Then all the girls would huddle in a comer,
comparing skin fold scores.
“Oh, I’m so fat,” a willowy 9-year-old
would moan; Those of us who really were
shopping in the Sears Pleasantly Plump sec
tion would stare uncomfortably at the toes of
our well-worn, out-of-season tennies. Some
times I’d practice my sit and reach.
Did my inferior fitness scores make me
want to exercise? Did I spend my summers
trying to master the art of dodge ball?
No, that test made me hate gym, hate
myself, hate my body. It made me want to go
home where I knew “Scooby Doo” reruns
were playing, and my mom was making a
cake from scratch with fudge icing.
Junior high gym was even worse. We had
to change in front of other people and wear
a striped, one-piece polyester gym suit that
everyone was forced to wear at least one size
too small.
Certain girls acted as the leg shaving
police and harassed you if you displayed any -
stubble or if, gasp, your parents wouldn’t let
you shave your legs, or, double gasp, your
armpits.
In high school, I begged my chiropractor
to write me a note saying normal gym activi
ties would strain my lumbar region. He
humanely agreed. I hope he didn’t lose his
license.
So now, as an adult of 21,1 have to re
brainwash myself. Exercise fights almost
every physical disorder that runs in my fam
ily. I tell myself that if I exercise, I’ll be
happier, healthier. It will raise my self es
teem.
And maybe it will keep me off “Sally
Jesse Raphael.”
Rowell is a senior news-editorial, advertising and
EngHskma|orandtheDailyNebraskanArts& Enter-?
talnment Editor.