My mom likes to tell a story of the time when I was a child she scored much-coveted front row seats to a Sesame Street Live performance in New Orleans. As an avid childhood fan, she took me to the show knowing it would be a huge hit.

As she tells the story, the sight of the characters on stage set me off on a wild crying spell that was only quelled when she took me out of the theater. Pricey tickets, great seats and the two of us saw, along with my aunt, less than two minutes of actual production. Embarrassed is how she describes the experience of taking a hysterical child out of a crowded auditorium.

According to family legend, I was between 2 and 3 when the incident occurred. I say legend because I denied the story for years whenever mom felt fit to retell it.

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The truth is I do remember parts of the Sesame Street extravaganza. The memories are only snippets but they do remain.

I can remember being in the auditorium when the lights went out. I remember a growing buzz in the air. I remember instantly feeling uncomfortable when the show began. The last thing I remember is being carried down the aisle and away from the stage.

I don’t remember what scared me or actually crying, but I do remember being taken away.

Those long-forgotten thoughts came full circle for me earlier this month when my wife and I took our 19-month-old son Dominick to see Sesame Street Live.

Dominick already watches the television show, sings and dances with the characters and seems to really enjoy the antics of Elmo. So when my wife came to me last month and said she scored some online Sesame Street Live tickets, I was outwardly excited for the fun our son would enjoy, but a question burned inside. Would my son do to me what I did to my mom?

We found out Nov. 7 when wife Candace and I took the little man to Lafayette for a 10:30 a.m. performance. Normally a boy who enjoys to walk, Dominick wanted to be held when we got to the auditorium because of the many children already on scene.

The noise level and general rambunctious nature of the crowd seemed to feed his uneasiness. Luckily he settled down when we made our way through the crowd and into a section of the lobby where there were not so many spectators.

Half of my fears were put away minutes later when he happily got down from his mother’s arms and instead walked hand-in-hand with us to our seats, which were about seven rows back and right smack in the middle.

I thought to myself that if Dominick started crying and had to be taken from the show, we would certainly cause a scene exiting from such a centrally-located vantage point.

Dominick did his best to put my fears to rest as he seemed to get more comfortable as the minutes ticked down. He interacted with the children around us and had way too much fun running up and down our seat aisles.

When the house lights lowered, signaling the show’s beginning, I could see in his eyes that he had no idea what was going on. He was not scared though, he was curious.

As soon as Sesame Street mainstays Bert and Ernie walked on stage, everything was in the clear. Dominick was not scared. He was like every other child in the house — super excited his favorite television characters were coming to life. The whole thing was a huge hit for Dominick.

When the show was over I called my aunt who was with my mom and I for our first Sesame Street Live experience more than 25 years ago.

“Nanny,” I said. “We just got out of the theater and Dominick didn’t cry a lick and I only cried a little.” She laughed and seemed as excited for me as I was for Dominick.

It was a great feeling driving home knowing my 19-month-old son was already acting more like a man than his 28-year-old dad. I can’t wait until he gets to take his own children to see Sesame Street Live.

 

STEPHEN HEMELT is city editor of The Daily Iberian. He can be reached at stephen.hemelt@daily-iberian.com.