Europe Really *Is* Different: Reflections on Copenhagen Park Puppetry

I am currently on a break, writing this little reflection, during my Social Media Marketing course in Bergen, Norway. The course is going great, with a fantastic group of 19 exceptional students, and I will fill you in on it, try to post some of our conclusions and work, and continue my reflections on netnography and the promotion and promulgation of the technique, in future postings.

But first I have to share with you a little story about the glorious differences between “The Continent” and the “New World.” These differences extend even beyond the Wonderful World of Wine, to the realm of Capital C Culture itself.

So my family and are walking through the beautiful King’s Garden, the garden of Rosenborg Castle, in Copenhagen. There is a little puppet show going on, so we sit on the benches and watch it, even though we were concerned the language might be in Danish, and we wouldn’t get it.

The puppet show is very cute, a barber and all the different people (all puppets) whose hair he cuts, almost all in pantomime.

The front few rows are filled with cute little Scandinavian kids, their hair colors mostly different shades of blonde, from dirty blonde to platinum. Lots of little kids giggling and big wide eyes watching. You get the picture.  

An old lady puppet comes in and gets her hair dyed bright purple. A hobo-like puppet old man comes in with a big beard and gets it trimmed neatly. And so on.

At one point there is this balding, opera singing puppet with short hair that comes in, and he sits in the chair, and the barber ends up adding a bunch of hair to him.

The puppet goes from opera to heavy metal guitars crashing, with two backup metalheads. The stage fills with dry ice and smoke, the lights flash, and the puppet sharts shaking his pendulous long hair in time with the thrashing guitar.

You following me here? Then, the puppet says, “We play death metal, and if you don’t like it, then F&*$ YOU!” Except all the letters were very clearly pronounced.

And at the same time, he shoves his little finger—violently, like he really means it–to all the little kiddies in the front rows of the puppet show audience.

My wife, son and I just about peed ourselves laughing. That was about the funniest things we had ever seen. On any continent.

My little daughter turned to me with big eyes and asked “Daddy, what did he say?”

And I said (think Nick Cage in KickAss here as you read these words): “Baby doll, ya just gotta love those Europeans.”

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