Text by Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet (To Come)
The days go on, and more boxes get unpacked, but there are still so much to do. We finally moved into our house proper, cats ‘n all, and we’re adjusting to our new life. Meanwhile, I had this dream that makes no sense to me…As a passenger in a car filled with friends, I arrive at a complex of small theaters, much like a Cineplex, except it is for live performances. It may be New York City, as I am assuming it is, since it is bright with multiple neon signs.
By the time I get out of the car, all my pals have run off to the play, as we are approaching being late. Meanwhile, I’m not even sure which of the multiple theaters I am supposed to be in, as my friends have my ticket. I see an usher and walk over to her. Seems the attendant is Kristin Chenoweth. There is even more confusion on my part to the whole experience wondering why the star of the show Wicked, and television programs like The Left Wing and Pushing Daisies is working as an usher, but I don’t’ have the time to ask; instead I tell her of my plight of being lost. She tells me to wait and she will see if she can find out where I should be. Kristin is highly energized and bubbly in the dream-state.
Shortly (both in time and stature), she comes back happily stating that she now knows what show I’m supposed to be seeing. It is a one-woman musical show staring Susan Lucci. Truthfully, I never watched General Hospital and Lucci does not really mean anything to me, but theater is theater.
As we approach the space, Kristen leaves me in the hands of two ushers attached to the specific performance. They tell me to wait outside in the lobby until there is a break when it is okay to go in, but they seem confused about when, the procedure to enter. I’m thinking, “Surely I’m not the first person to arrive lake to this show; how could they not?”
I’m standing in the back, with the ushers on either side to make sure I don’t enter without permission. The doors into the theater proper look like the twin swinging doors into a restaurant kitchen, with windows in each about head high. Looking through the glass, I see the theater is pretty small, holding around 50 people; it is set up something like a church with rows of pews with a single aisle down the center, but there is a long table in front of everyone, rather than where the hymnal books would go. At the head of the aisle on the wall is a large stained glass “window,” and in the front of it, in preacher’s robes and a tall chef’s hat, is not Susan Lucci, but rather Andie McDowell! Again, I’m not a fan of hers, though she was okay in Groundhog Day.
McDowell is singing standards in a chanteuse style (and not altogether on key), though I don’t remember which songs., while serving food to the audience. Each dish ties in with what she is singing. There I am stuck outside, looking in, feeling resentful. I can see the one empty seat where I shout be sitting, but the ushers will not let me in until they deem it is okay to do so.
After around three songs/courses, McDowell goes off the stage to get the next food group, and I think, “Now is the time!” and look around to see the ushers are nowhere to be found. Damn!
I’m about to push the door open, when I see a side door open and a burly man sneaks into the theater and takes my seat, just as McDowell returns with her arms full of food, and singing a cheering song.
“Shit, I am so screwed,” I’m thinking and am ready to go ask for my money back, but realize it may be a problem as I still do not have my ticket on me.
That is the point when I wake up.