Somebody Somewhere Adores It

By Rom Watson
c. July 9, 2015

We’ve all heard the saying, “There’s no accounting for taste,” but I am periodically reminded of just how deep those differences run.  Recently in the parking garage at work, I saw a woman I know on a motorcycle preparing to leave.  I said hello and commented that I thought she drove a car.  She replied that she used to, but had bought a motorcycle two months ago.  When I asked her how she liked it, her face lit up with joy, the years fell away and suddenly she looked like a child on Christmas morning.  “I LOVE IT,” she replied.  “Being able to maneuver between cars, and weave in and out of traffic, is just the BEST THING EVER!”

Having driven a car for decades, and having been a passenger in other people’s cars for decades, I know that drivers HATE it when motorcyclists drive between cars and zip in and out of traffic.  It was interesting to see the situation from a motorcyclist’s perspective.  The thing we hate is exactly the thing they love, the thing that inspires them with joy.

There are many other instances where my tastes do not coincide with those of others, (I’m not convinced that sweaters are a good idea, and I’m puzzled by the continuing allure of denim), but the one I’m going to write about is Brush Up Your Shakespeare.

Kiss Me Kate is a good musical, arguably Cole Porter’s best.  (It’s much better than Can-Can, for instance, which contains only three memorable songs and a huge, useless subplot about a sculptor.)  Kiss Me Kate has a very tuneful score, containing many good songs.  In fact, there are only two songs in Kiss Me Kate that I don’t like: Bianca, and Brush Up Your Shakespeare.

I don’t like them because of their lyrics, which I find irritatingly stupid due to deliberately bad rhymes.  I know the bad rhymes are meant for comic effect.  I know that in the case of Brush Up Your Shakespeare, those bad rhymes are put in the mouths of two characters too unsophisticated to make better rhymes.  Why did the author do this?  He was striving for a particular effect.  Which he achieved.  Cole Porter knew what he was doing.

Nevertheless, listening to the lyrics of those two songs makes my ears want to vomit.  So it was quite an experience for to me to find out firsthand just how much audiences adore Brush Up Your Shakespeare.

Years ago my wife and I attended the opening night of a community theatre production of Kiss Me Kate put on by the Santa Monica Theatre Guild.  We knew many of those involved in the production, both onstage and off.  The show was very well sung by the entire cast, and I remember being impressed with the choreography of the large group numbers.

Toward the end of the second act, it came time for Brush Up Your Shakespeare.  For those unfamiliar with the show, the previous scene ends and two male characters emerge from behind a curtain to sing Brush Up Your Shakespeare in front of the curtain.

Something happened in the theatre during the blackout before the number.  Electricity surged through that audience, and I will never forget it.  It was the anticipation, and it was palpable.

During the song the audience hung on every lyric and laughed at every joke.  When the number ended they went wild.

That experience was very educational for me.  I already knew of course that “There’s no accounting for taste.”  Not even my own taste, which can sometimes baffle me.  But that opening night revealed the depth of adoration that people can feel for something that continues to leave me cold.

So when does a feeling about something coalesce and harden into an opinion?  I don’t know, but now I’m wary of having opinions, because no matter how much antipathy I feel for something, somebody somewhere adores it. The thing I hate is exactly the thing they love, the thing that inspires them with joy.  I don’t want to dampen anyone’s joy, even if I don’t happen to share in it, so I suppose I must strive to live and let live, with an attitude of “to each his own.”  I am reminded of something I read, though I don’t remember where: “Opinions.  Can’t live with ‘em, can’t go shopping without ‘em.”