Cool stuff I’ve done that you should do, too: Part II

Welcome to my second installment of “Cool Stuff”–my mini reviews of various shows I’ve seen, foods I’ve tasted and activities I’ve done.

(What other cool stuff should you do? Read my first installment.)

Sing-Along Grease at the Music Box Theatre

Don’t you hate it when you’re watching a musical, you start to sing, and the people next to you shush you?

You won’t get that kind of treatment at a Sing-Along movie, like Sing-Along Grease at the Music Box Theatre. Subtitles on the screen give you no excuse but to sing as loud as you want.

At the Music Box Theatre, you don’t just see a movie—you live it.

The moviegoers are transformed into 1950s superstars: Young children, teenagers and even some adults parade their Pink Ladies jackets, T-bird regalia, poodle skirts and slicked-back hair for prizes in the pre-show costume contest.

Audience members are given goodie bags complete with fun props to use during the show. I mean, what’s “Beauty School Dropout” without blowing bubbles? How can you sing “Greased Lightning” without your shades and a comb?

Fans cheer for Danny and Sandy and boo for Crater Face, and everyone applauds each great performance. But the most amazing part of the whole experience is the singing. Young and old, male and female, everybody sings at a sing-along. Dancing is also encouraged, and, honestly, it’s hard to resist the temptation.

Tone deaf? Who cares? You’ll never see any of these people ever again. Well…just try to avoid going there on a first date. It might cause a bad impression.

Sing-Along Grease is playing at the Music Box Theatre (3733 N. Southport Ave. in Chicago, near the Addison Red Line stop) only until June 3, so get your $15 tickets before it’s too late. For information on ordering tickets, and also on upcoming shows, visit the theater’s Web site at musicboxtheatre.com.

Are women funny? / Lia’s blog goes MULTIMEDIA!!!

(Ladies and gentlemen: I am bringing my blog into the 21st century. The future of blogging is not in plain print articles, but in sensory pieces with sound, pictures and video.

I’m aiming to be innovative and experimental, and hopefully a bit creative.)

And now, for the entry.

Why is it that most stand-up comedians are men? Are men inherently funnier than women? Why is it that women in our society are not encouraged to be funny?

Listen to the thoughts people shared with me on this topic, and then leave a comment of your own.

LISTEN HERE.

My dorm’s safety system is alarming.

At 3:15 in the morning, the atmosphere is serene. Birds are silent, stars are shining, college students are sleeping. The slight breeze is the only sound interrupting the stillness of the night.

And then, the fire alarm screams.

The wailing sound of the alarm is not alien to the residents of the Communications Residential College at Northwestern University. They hear the alarm, rub their eyes and groan, “Not again. Are you kidding me?”

Today’s 3:15 a.m. alarm was the dorm’s third fire alarm this week—and merely six hours later, 9:30 a.m. marked the fourth.

By now, we’ve become numb to the alarms. We slowly get out of bed and peek our heads out of our doors. “What do you think,” we ask our neighbors, “should we go outside this time?”

I rush to evacuate the dorm as quickly as possible. Well, that is, after I find a hoodie to throw on over my pajamas, slip on some flip flops, grab my phone, put on an away message, check the weather online, have a quick yoga session, whip up a two-egg omelet and read a chapter or two of Moby Dick. After doing all this, I’m the first person out of the dorm.

Outside, sirens tell us help is on the way. Each time, the firefighters rush to the nearby journalism classroom building to fix the problem there. People whisper later that the building has water damage or flooding or an overflowed bathtub, and so the fire department needs to come in with their hoses. Confused and cold, we wait for the alarm to stop.

Finally back in the dorm, some students fall back asleep. But I don’t. I know it’s only a matter of time before the warning shrieks again and I’ll have to “rush” out of the dorm.

We all know, though, that the one time we don’t evacuate the dorm is when it won’t be a false alarm. But really, CRC alarm system, won’t you quit crying wolf?

There’s got to be a better system of alerts. What if this were a real emergency? We’re supposed to act as though every “fire drill” is a legitimate fire, but the truth is that we don’t. Like the teachers at my middle school who knew about the planned fire drills in advance, we, the invincible college students, are complacent.

I doubted the system most this morning when the firemen told us we could go back to the dorm, even though the alarm was still howling. It’s funny how the “all clear” alarm sounds a lot like the “run for your life” alarm.

While colleges and students across the nation think about the most effective ways to alert us to life-threatening situations, it’s hard for us in CRC to take anything seriously because we’re awakened every day with something pretty trivial.