Virgin Marionettes

Here’s a place you should go if you haven’t. You’d need to live in L.A., of course. And have kids under the age of, oh, seven or so. And possess a strange affection for all that is bizarre, dated, kitschy, and decidedly non-linear.

I’m talking about the Bob Baker Marionette Theater, of course. What a crazy, hilarious scene! Sure, MJ was terrified when we initially took our seats in the darkened theater, but when she saw the first puppeteers come out, wearing red shirts and blue overalls and carrying bestringed watermelons, goats, ducks, and poppies–among other things–she was hooked. True, the music was all from the forties, poorly amplified, and hard to understand. The plot? There was none. Something about a farm. The puppets? Ancient, eccentric, and overly varnished.

Still, it was crazy cute. And totally wonderful.

As for the ponytailed Girl Scout puking pink ice cream on everyones’ shoes in the courtyard afterwards? That was just us getting lucky.

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