The overwhelmingly positive reaction should be no surprise based on the media frenzy over Glee’s gay storylines this season and the particular appeal of Colfer and Criss, seeing an arena full of fans of all ages cheering for one boy faux-proposing to another made the greasy-nacho-filled hours I spent on Long Island worthwhile.
But as charming as seeing boys act out gayness for a mainstream crowd was, the actual touching part of the experience came while I waiting outside and I ran into mini Kurt Hummels. The first was a boy of maybe six, in precious cuffed white jeans, loafers, and a dapper bowtie. He was reserved but clearly happy, toddling home to Brooklyn with his mother. We went to check the crowd near the load-out area, prepared for screaming tweens with posters waiting for a glimpse of Darren Criss or Mark Salling, and while we found that in abundance my eyes were drawn to another six-year-old boy. He’d clearly dressed himself that morning, in stripped leggings, a dress shirt and bowtie, finishing the ensemble off with an amazing gold sequined cape. His mother was holding him as they quietly stood behind the girls, waiting.
Every take-down of the show—it’s too karaoke, it’s too cheesy, it’s too disjointed, it’s too gay—falls down in the face of what I saw on Saturday. As my concert companion pointed out, if you were a mom with a little boy who liked to wear sequin capes, wouldn’t you take him to see Kurt Hummel live on stage?
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