Write a short story (600 – 1000 words max) that describes your sense of home and the valuesand stories that you use to connect yourself to your home and respond to all comments on your blog.

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“Hurry! Come down, quick! You’re missing it!”

“Where are you?! It’s STARTING already!”

“—What?! But I thought it scheduled for 8pm? It’s only 7??”

“Whatever, dude! As if I know what the deal is with these TV broadcasting times. Just hurry up! Come down!”

“—Grab your sister! Tell her they’re starting ‘Summer Nights’!! You know, Luch, I used to be on Broadway—well, I used to do musicals. I starred–”

“You starred in the Royal City Musical’s production of Miss Saigon. And those were the best months of your life; I know, mom. You tell us the story all the time!”

“Neia! Danny Zuko is on the screen… or… the guy playing Danny Zuko is on the screen! Who is that man? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before… He’s no Travolta! Oh, oh! It’s that Hudgens girl as Rizzo! Neia, hurry!!”

Overwhelmed with continuous callings after my name, I quickly finish reading a chapter of Foucault’s History of Sexuality (admittedly I don’t really understand what the hell I just read). Hurriedly, I make my way down the stairs, almost tripping because of how fast my feet are moving.

“I’m here guys! Jeez, yell louder, will you!”

Gathered on the living room couch, all with bowls of spaghetti and pieces of garlic bread in hand, sits my family attentively watching the beginning sequence of the highly anticipated, “GREASE: Live!”

“Oh, oh! Hush, everyone!” my mom exclaims, as she franticly searches for her phone on the couch. “I need to record this scene!! I need to post it to Facebook!”

“Mom, you do know that there will be videos of this online within minutes after it airs; you don’t need to take a crappy video on your phone. Just wait for the internet to work its magic” suggests my brother.

“No, no, no! I need to show my friends now!” she exclaims while recording the TV with a gigantic black splotch covering Sandy’s head for the whole 3 minutes of filming (the black splotch, if you weren’t quite sure, is her thumb… yes, my mother’s thumb took up half the frame; still don’t know whether that video ever made its way onto Facebook).

She finally finishes what felt like an hour of simultaneous filming and screaming out of excitement – (theatre-obsessed) moms will be moms?

As the three-hour (yes, you did read that correctly) ‘live’ production of GREASE comes to a close, my family gets up from their seats for the moment we have all been waiting for. The main event… The best part of the show…

 

* Cue Julianne Hough as Sandy coming out in her stellar all-black leather ensemble and Aaron Tveit as Danny coming out in a quintessential 50s preppy outfit to sign ‘You’re The One That I Want’*

“I got chills, they’re multiplying! And I’m losing controllllll……”

Together, my family and I get up from the couch and break out into song and dance. We belt out, “You’re the one that I want, you are the one I want – YOU, YOU, YOU! HONEY!” in unison. Using our forks as microphones, we attempt to emulate that 50s vibe that is emanating from our television screen. We dance so hard that I feel dizzy by the end of the number; my voice is coarse, my head is dizzy, and I immediately regret having just consumed a colossal amount of spaghetti right before dancing my face off, but the repercussions don’t matter one bit to me. My family and I had the time of our lives, even in that small, normalized outburst of theatricality. We were in each other’s company being goofy. Over those three hours, I got to laugh, dance, sing, and enjoy delicious bowls of food in the company of my 5 favourite people in the world, and no threat of a stomach ache was going to stop me from doing that.

Recollected and back on the couch, my mom grabs the remote and looks to all of us: “Okay, kids! What should we watch next?”

 

———–

My aim with this story was to show (in an animated way), the sort of dynamic I have with my family. My household is far from bland or quiet; we sing, we dance, we yell (out of excitement, that is) and we have a great time. My mom is the rock of our family; she keeps everything together, and I honestly don’t know who I would be, or where I would be without her. My sense of home is literally being at home with my family. It is the smell of homemade food (preferably lasagna or spaghetti). It is the sound of a blaring musical or movie, and the accompanying sound of voices singing along. It’s the sound of infectious laughter and constant commotion.

This short story is a slice of what my home life is like; it’s hectic, loud, but filled with such love and excitement. While we may not necessarily do anything extravagant or particularly interesting, I value the company of my family, wherever that may be. For me, home isn’t necessarily a physical construct; it is the people I choose to surround myself with.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Works Cited

Garcia, Tom. ‘Grease Live!’: Go Behind-the-Scenes in New Promo. Digital image. Billboard. N.p., 8 Jan. 2016. Web. 8 Feb. 2016. <http://www.billboard.com/files/styles/article_main_image/public/media/grease-live-fox-2015-billboard-650.jpg>.

Iyer, Pico. “Where is home?” TED. June 2013. Lecture.

“You’re the One that I Want – Full Performance – Grease: Live!” Youtube. Youtube, 1 February 2016. 8 February 2016.