Pony Up

My daughter has terrible, terrible taste.

How else to explain her desire to attend the atrocity that was "My Little Pony: Live" on Sunday? Seriously, I paid 18 bucks to watch struggling actors in pastel-colored pony costumes talk (and talk and talk and talk) about putting on the World's Largest Tea Party. Except the party never really got off the ground. It was like listening to a bunch of cheerful potheads — who happened to be dressed like horses — go, "Dude, we should totally throw a tea party."

I understand that little girls like ponies and playthings with long hair to comb. But MLP is from my kid sister's generation of toys, and the appeal of it remains lost on me. I mean, why not just play with a doll? You can't really dress a pony except to put a tutu over its hind legs, which makes no sense. Plus, you can't work out your schoolyard relationship issues with toy ponies. You can't reasonably pretend that four-legged Minty is the bitch who came between you and your best friend Pinkie Pie — yours! — on the spring field trip.

I'd have been happy to take little C to a real farm to see real ponies, but she wanted a tacky drag show instead. Now I know how my mom felt when the book fair came to my school, and instead of choosing classics, I spent her hard-earned money on "Lee Majors: Bionic Superstar." Karma.

The show would have been unbearable had we not been accompanied by my hilarious friend Mark, who gets paid to write about legitimate cultural events. He also had the good sense to raise cats instead of children, so he isn't asked to do this kind of thing on a regular basis. Seeing scores of dead-eyed parents paying for pink and lavender crap surely proved the wisdom of that decision. I think he called it "The World's Largest Shakedown."

So a dragon with a Eurotrash accent came onstage and warmed up the crowd for the ponies. Much gamboling and singing ensued, including trips to the post office (to mail the invitations), a rap/disco mashup (with turntable scratching) and an in-depth discussion of streamers. After a LOT more singing, it was revealed that ringleader Pinkie Pie forgot to bring the Darjeeling. Um, if you're throwing the World's Biggest Tea Party, isn't that kind of the point? The ending was confetti-covered and abrupt. And I left thirsty, but not before shelling out another five dollars for an MLP: Live flag, which I've almost been stabbed with several times.

Apparently we got off cheap. Another friend of mine paid something like $49 for Thomas the Tank Engine tickets, and she's not even sure her son enjoyed the show.

Generation Z: uncultured AND ungrateful.