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Saturday, March 31, 2018

A Tale Of Penitence!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


                                               "What's to tell about the Bronx?  It's uptown,
                                                      and to the right?"-- Diana Morales, in
                                                "A Chorus Line."


                                        Girls, this has been the week of weeks!  Holy Week, starting with Palm Sunday, then Reconciliation Monday, Spy Wednesday, (which is when I recount what I am about to happened) Holy/Maundy Thursday, Good Friday/Passover, Holy Saturday, Easter Sunday, and, of course, the annual screening of "The Song Of Bernadette!"  I am telling you, the world is moving so fast I can hardly keep up.

                                        Now, long before we had any idea of what was going to happen to my father, David and I made plans, on March 28, to take an L and M bus tours to see the show "A Chorus Line," at the Westchester Broadway Dinner Theater.  I will see that show anywhere it shows, where I can get to it.

                                          Leading up to this trip, as mentioned, my father died on February 12.    So, I knew this particular viewing of the show would be a deeply personal one for me, being that, back on October 25, 1975, at Manhattan's Shurbert Theatre, on Broadway, my father and I saw the original production, with the legendary Original Company.  Also, Sammy Williams, of the Original Cast, a very personal component of the Original Cast for me, passed away on March 17.  So, I knew this performance would be emotionally fraught for me.  One to honor both my father, and Sammy.

                                            All this was expected.  What wasn't was the experience we had, both going to the show, and coming him from it.   This is where the penitence comes in.  On the bus, seated directly across from us, up front, were a trio of women whom I am calling the Gorgon Sisters-- Elizabeth, the group leader, and her acolytes, Barbara and Christine.

                                            Had Elizabeth not been there, Barbara and Christine might not have been so troublesome.  But Elizabeth!  Darlings, have you ever been trapped in a confined space for hours, with a filthy, crude, loudmouthed character?????  I have no doubt women sometimes talk as vulgar as men do, but I have never heard such before, as, I believe, they generally do it among themselves.

                                             Elizabeth and her cronies acted as though they were the only ones on the bus, forgetting there were 22 other people.  This was one of those small buses, so everyone on board did not miss a bit of Elizabeth's schtick.

                                              Here is a sampling.

                                              She talked about her "addiction to men."

                                               She mentioned her "wet vagina."

                                               She delivered a monologue about having to wash out the skid
                                                 marks of the underwear of all her husbands.

                                         Sweeties, I am not kidding.  Added to that Elizabeth was, to put it kindly, a full figured gal.  She had a loud, Bea Arthur/Elaine Stritch voice, and claimed she had been a Vegas show girl for 38 years, and that she was in stage four of brain cancer.

                                           I swear, I did not know whether to believe anything she said or not.  Two hours of this, non-stop all the way back.  I zoned out, and so did David.  By the time we got home, I had a headache, and went straight to bed.  I could not read, or take it anymore.

                                          One thing is sure. Elizabeth will never be forgotten. And that is not a compliment.

                                           Even her inane reworking of show tunes--"I feel cunty, oh so cunty!"--Yes!!!!!!!!!!!--which she and her acolytes thought so witty showed them more as a trio of lowlifes.  I would love to see Elizabeth on "Judge Judy."  She would be perfect for it!

                                            Oh, the show!  I had almost forgotten about that.

                                             The magic was there.  I felt my father's presence with me, so during Paul's monologue, and "What I Did For Love," the tears flowed freely.  The meal served before was nice.  I had turkey and trimmings, David had Chicken Marsala.  The desert was like an Apple Brown Betty, with vanilla ice cream.

                                              But, as a "Chorus Line" aficionado, I noticed  some things about the staging that only someone like I would notice.

                                               The cast was considerably scaled down.  No, all the principle roles were represented, but when Zach dismissed those who did not make the line, only one young man exited the stage.  As the show went on, and the line formed and re-formed, I was pretty sure that the actor playing Mike was not there.  I wondered, at one point, where he was.  I began to realize that the length of the stage was not big enough for the show.  In the opening number, the boy and girl combos are usually done in groups of four; here there were only three, sometimes just two.

                                                For those with only general knowledge of the show, I don't think this would be noticed.   But I could not help wondering why, if the stage was not big enough, they chose to do it.  At least it was done straight through, without an Intermission. And it was a superb company.

                                                 I have to hand it to the house manager, Susan. When she came onto our bus to explain things, Elizabeth started right in.  Turning to her, and glaring, Susan said, "I see we have a comedienne on board!" Touche!

                                                  I also felt sorry for the bus driver, whom David and I have been with before.  On the trip back, they made fun of his language, his accent, and I am sure the poor guy heard all this. If we could, so could he!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                    So, I consider the fact that I rode to and from with Elizabeth bellowing all the way, non-stop, my penitence.  David and I were never so glad to get  off the bus.

                                                      The "Chorus Line" experience was worth it.  I don't think even a blog post could approximate the obnoxiousness of Elizabeth.

                                                        I just thank God all of you darlings were not there to hear it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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