THE BEARDED MAN RETURNETH

Well, the beard is making a comeback. I was recently asked by the drummer I work with on my recordings—Glenn sidelines as an actor and director for stage productions—to audition for a part in the Lehi Arts Commission’s production of “Smokey Joe’s Café.” If you are not familiar with this Broadway Production, it is a collection of live performances of 50s and 60s acclaimed songwriters, Leiber and Stoller. They penned such classic Rock & Roll songs as: Jailhouse Rock, Treat Me Nice, Little Egypt, Youngblood, I’m A Woman, Trouble, Searchin’ On Broadway, Saved… well, you get the picture. There are about 40 songs in the show, featuring 5 men and 4 women singing and dancing, with an onstage backup band of around 6 or seven pieces. The musical has no real storyline or dialog apart from the lyrics in the songs. If you have seen the Broadway version, either live or on DVD, you will appreciate the task ahead for this community theater group.

If you are able to see our production, you may well appreciate the challenge placed before me: all of the other singers are in their mid twenties or younger. OUCH! Why, you might ask yourself, would they want ME on board? And, you might also ask yourself again, why I, a guy knocking on 60’s door and who couldn't’t dance his way out of anything, including a rather large paper sack, let myself be talked into exposing myself to sure embarrassment and open ridicule? The answer is: I have no earthly idea! The truth is: I like to perform, or at least sing. The idea of broadening my horizons is, perhaps, a possibility as well. When I said I would come to the audition, I had no idea, really, of what I was getting into.

A while back, not long after moving to Utah, my friend, Dave, who also plays bass and sings with me, asked me to take a part in the same organization's production of “The Sound of Music”. They needed some one to play the Admiral who comes to the Von Trapp home to give Captain Von Trapp his orders to report to the German navy—this character does not appear in the movie version. I had just a few lines and I did not have to sing or dance—a piece of cake. I would get a chance to spend some time again with Dave, my old performing partner, after many years apart. Although I only had to deliver a few lines in a German accent—the accent was brilliant, of course—I had a hard time remembering my lines. I guess it was nerves, or maybe the onset of Alzheimer's. In every performance, except the last one, I would give a variation of my lines, giving the general idea. I got a little closer to perfect each performance, until the last one when I "nailed it". The only problem was my microphone failed me and no one in the audience heard my triumph.

It had been a long while since I had done any “acting.” I had done a play when I was in my teens and had been roped into doing a couple of church “road shows”. When I first came to Utah to live, back in the 70s, I got a non-speaking part in a European movie production set in 19th century Utah about a Mormon convert from Iceland who settled near Spanish Fork—my Icelandic and German language talents precluded me from a speaking part. But I had "the look" they liked and they used me most every day they shot on location in Utah. It was great fun and I decided I would give it a try again. I auditioned for a Church film about Josepfh Smith and the Lost Manuscript of the Book of Mormon, and though the casting director told me I did really well, that she was putting me at the top of her list, we moved to California before they started filming. I later saw the film and am sure they didn't miss out on too much by my move away. The opportunity came again after moving to Tennessee. I got a part in a CBS made-for-TV-movie called "The Conviction of Katie Dodd". It starred Victoria Hammil, of "Hill Street Blues" fame, and Kevin Dobson, of "Knots Landing" and "Kojak" fame. I played a friend of Kevin Dobson’s character. Again, it was fun. A while later, I was given a small non-speaking appearances on a CBS pilot for a series to star country singer Lorrie Morgan as a Nashville police detective captain who night-lighted as a country singer—it is amazing what kind of money gets spent for ludicrous ideas in the television industry. About that same time, our Franklin Stake (geographical church organization or unit) decide to do a big show featuring each ward (smaller church units or congregations within the stake) doing 20 to 30 minute vignettes of their choice of Broadway Shows. Our ward chose “Fiddler on the Roof”. I had always thought that I could play the "Tevye" character well, so I auditioned for the part and got it. As it turned out, only two wards out of nine were able to put shows together, but we performed them and were pleased with the results. My wife, Karen, played the oldest daughter—I was already looking a lot older than she was by this time. A few months later, I was asked by the Stake Relief Society (a women's organization within our church) to reprise the role in costume for a presentation on "relationships", I think, singing a few of the numbers from "Fiddler" with my wife in the "Golde" role. I really enjoyed it, but the opportunities to pursue acting dried up and we eventually moved to Kansas.

So, it had been more than fifteen years since I had exposed myself to
“acting” and the little part in “The Sound of Music” got my juices flowing again. Though that stage appearance was anything but glorious, I decided I would try it again, especially if an opportunity came up to do the Tevye part. I passed on auditioning for “Oklahoma” when it came up, because I was obviously too old for anything other than smaller roles and there were no Tevye-type parts, but when Glenn told me about "Smokey Joe’s Café" and that it was just singing a bunch of songs that Elvis and the Coasters had made famous, I thought “this might be fun" and it would give me an opportunity to see if I could do a stage that would not be too difficult. After all, I cut my teeth on such musical material and had played and sung my own stuff in nightclubs for most of my life. How hard could it be?

Well, it could be very hard, especially if dancing comes into the equation. My afore-mentioned inability to dance kept me from taking a part in a local production of a dinner-mystery-musical-farce about a year ago. When it became apparent that there would be some dancing involved in the “Smokey” production, I began to be reticent. When I watched the DVD of the Broadway version, I almost started to cry. However, Glenn promised me that I would not be expected to do much real dancing, just moving around to the music. We’ll see about that. I was the first man to be cast and the only man to be cast after the initially-scheduled auditions and Glenn was thinking that, if they could not find four more guys who had quality voices in a reasonable hurry, they would have to cancel the show. I began to breathe a little easier. Maybe I had been too hasty and this was God's way of protecting me from having a heart attack. Then I get a call later in the week from Glen and he says he has the guys and the show can go on. Imagine my added horror when I found out that all of the other singers in the cast were less than half my age. And, they looked like they could dance too. It was at our first rehearsal that I suggested that we could interject some hilarious comedy relief into the performance by having me perform in a wheelchair, with a girl in a nurse costume pushing me around the stage for the dance routines, while I snapped my fingers and sang with a straight face. The laughter my suggestion elicited was as far as the hilarity and the idea went.

So, I am somewhat conflicted about this opportunity. "The show must go on", as they say, and trooper that I am, I agreed to do it, but if they were to tell me they had a younger and spryer fellow to take my part, I might do a tripple somersalt like Little Egypt. It could and should be fun though, if the audience can suspend reality enough to imagine me at least 30 years younger, and if I am able to remember the lyrics to the songs, AND I don’t trip and fall into their laps, AND they don’t make disparaging comments or cat calls, if I don’t do the former and do do the latter.

Oh yes, I almost forgot about the return of my beard and the reason for this blog. When I auditioned for the musical, Glenn and his assistant asked me if I would mind growing the beard back—you see, he has seen me both ways. When I enthusiastically said “YES", they added that they might want to color it for the performances.