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2007-05-14 @ 1:37 p.m.
in love by act one

Lets see...the weekend. Oh, it was thrilling as usual. Went to the yuppie grocery store and sat by myself and ate a muffin with my diet coke and watched a bunch of yuppie parents watch their little darlings play the piano in the cafe. I guess it was their Spring concert or something. Yup, our store has a piano in the cafe section. Go figure. Its actually one of those computerized pianos that can play by itself, but its also real evidently because there they were....all the little Caroline Kennedy girls running up to the piano and playing songs that were like less than a minute long and then dramatically jumping up and taking deep bows to overwhelming rounds of applause. Sheese! My piano concerts as a kid weren't like that.

I went to the Dominican College Conservatory of Music in Marin County, California. Yeah, it sounds impressive, but my music teacher was some hippy chick named Dawn and when we had our first concert it was around Halloween and her equally long haired hippy husband dressed up like a huge pumpkin and ran around throwing candy at the kids. And our songs weren't 30 second arpeggios. Oh no! My first song on a stage was something called "The Estudiatina Waltz" and I can still play it to this day, because I practiced it 1.6 million times before the concert, so I wouldn't screw it up on stage. And I didn't, although I did play a song that should have lasted about 4 minutes in about 2 minutes because I had such severe stage fright. I was also waiting in my head to hear my mom, somewhere down in the darkened audience to say "Whoooooops" because she constantly did that whenever I made a mistake.

But none of that was in evidence at the piano concert love-fest Saturday, thankfully. I did go to a show Saturday night with my mom out of sheer boredom. Its not that I don't love theatre. I do. I'm a total theatre geek. I used to be a theatre critic for a newspaper in California, but this was a show with my fave Gay Elvis. I've already been listening to the nonstop minute by minute reports from my mom about every ion of information about the show for the last week. And if she tells me something once, it will be repeated at least 7 more times since she's a little forgetful.

I saw this show last year. Its a show they do every year which has 7-8 singers singing songs from the 50's, 60's and 70's and although the singers are really good, the format is really corny as in there is nothing organic about how the era is progressing except the performers change clothes. Like when they hit the Sixties...woo...hippies! Lets wear bell bottoms and belt with tassels around my head and a big peace necklace since we know that every single hippie looked exactly like that. Heh! I grew up 20 minutes from Haight and Ashbury Street in San Francisco...the epicenter of Hippiedom. That wasn't exactly how "they" looked, but okay. Close enough.

And then there's the Gay Elvis part of the show. He isn't even really part of the show to be honest. He just strolls on. Does his own somewhat pedestrian numbers he always does and strolls off. He doesn't even interact with the other performers or anything. He's just there because he has a small, but a rabidly terrifying supportive fan base who will follow him anywhere and the producer knows it. My mom is a huge fan and it gives her something to do, but we do now have an agreement. No excessive Gay Elvis conversations. Otherwise she'd talk about him 15 hours a day on the phone and never take a breath. I don't like him. I think he takes advantage of old ladies by making them buy all his products (CDs, DVDs, t-shirts, stc) and thinking that they will marry him someday. Plus some of his fans are total fruit loops, so much so that even my mom uses the word "Crazy" in front of some of their names like Crazy Annie. Crazy Lulu. Crazy Sandra.

Crazy Annie used to live right across the courtyard from me here at Twin Peaks Hilton. She was the one who used to scream for like hours out the window about Jesus and masturbation. Yeah, it was so much fun! And the stuff she did to Gay Elvis. Well, it was a whole 20/20 To Catch a Stalker episode in itself.

So I finally, rather blandly accepted the invitation to the show, since I haven't seen a show for a while. Our former source for free theatre tickets, a DJ my mom was friends with, has now retired and we no longer get freebies, which means, no more shows. These tickets were through some corporate sponsor for an old age planning organization. It seems my mom has befriended the guy handing out the corporate tickets and now has tickets for the rest of the show already. She's a sly one, where Gay Elvis is involved.

The show started and unlike the previous one, this one actually had a little plot. Three couple in Eddie's Diner and their ever evolving relationships over a 30 year span. And Gay Elvis is our Ghost of Pop Songs Past, leading a kid through the 50's, 60's and 70's. It was a bit hokey, but way better than the previous incarnations, plus it had dialogue and jokes...even a few funny ones. Plus...well....witty fell totally in love with one of the actors...(blush).

Hee! I haven't done that in so long. Gotten a crush on somebody on stage during a performance. Probably my last ISC (Improbable Stage Crush) was for whoever played Che Guevera in a road company of "Evita" back in the 1980's. I saw it like 3-4 times in San Francisco and had like a total crush on the actor playing Che! Black, curly hair. Fiery! Rebellious! Hot! I met him outside afterwards for autographs, but could I talk? Of course not. I just kinda went "urk. frinks.srks." and he said, "So you want an autograph then, right?" Me: shaking my head madly, blushing.

And what's funny is I got this crush Saturday night almost instantaneously. He was onstage of course. He wasn't even one of the main characters, but then suddenly they came and were doing a number sitting on the edge of the stage and who is sitting directly in front of me? Let's just call him KS. I caught his eye. He caught mine. I had to look away immediately. He had the curly hair thing going on. I love curly hair. I'm pretty much gone if a guy looks at me and he has a mop of curly hair. This went on for much of the show too. I got so I couldn't look at him. This wasn't exactly "Death of a Salesman", so the performers were interacting with the audience.

And I was like...who does he look like? I know he looks like somebody. Who??? And then I finally realized, he looked a lot like a kind of rumpled Russell Crowe....with curly just before he went into rehab. I'm kidding, of course. He was very hip.

And each of his costumes got more and more outrageous as the years progressed. His Sixties outfit consisted of a wildly flowered shirt, camouflaged pants, sandals, a peace medallion (that goes without saying), red granny glasses (a 'la Ozzy Osbourne) and this huge weird looking fuzzy hat. His 70's outfit was black leather pants, a shiny purple jacket, a huge gaudy necklace, black Raybans. It was perfect and way better than the other guys who chose to represent the 70's with checkered polyester pants and huge disco boots.

I knew that after the show that there was going to be a "Meet the Actors and Eat a Free Cookie" thing downstairs and I started to get more and more anxious. Would I be able to say anything besides the usual "urk. frinks.srks." He was, after all, just a local 40 something actor, who had been responsible for writing an actual script for this incredibly tired show that had been on the verge of not being performed this year. And it was funny, and not as hokey and it had a few great political one liners which the crowd, whose average age was about 112, probably didn't catch. All from this cute, curly-headed guy from Jersey who could sing and sorta dance.

But alas, this story does not have any kind of happy fairy tale ending, my friends. It just kind of ends. I saw him afterwards...from a distance. We looked at each other repeatedly from across the room, but that was about it. I told my mom I liked him yesterday when I took her out for a Mother's Day breakfast. We stayed on the subject all of about 1.2 seconds and then veered back into Gay Elvisland. And then I just talked to her again this morning and she evidently talked to him yesterday after seeing the show for a third time. I guess she told him I thought he was "super-duper". I said, "Oh mom, I hope you didn't use THOSE words...super-duper. I haven't said super-duper since I was a kid probably". And she's like, "Oh I don't remember. Maybe I said you thought he was interesting." And then she changed the subject yet again.

So as they say, I guess "Its better to have love and lost, then never to have loved at all." (sigh).

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty