Stephen Quint and the ZOMBIE MIKADO

Boise, Idaho, Here We Come!

Today's guest sermon is by Laurelyn Watson Chase. I don't
know what's with the font and margins.

I spent President’s Day weekend in gorgeous Sun Valley, Idaho.
At 6,000 feet altitude, it is breathtaking (literally).
This world-famous ski resort town is playground to the stars: 
Tom Cruise, Bruce Willis, Jamie Lee Curtis, Arnold, Tom Hanks, 
and many others own homes there. I thought it strange that our
little quintet from New York Gilbert & Sullivan Players ended 
up there for a gig. Al Bergeret (the boss), Keith Jurosko,
Michael Scott Harris, Angela Smith, Andi Stryker-Rodda (pianist)
and I would perform for fancy people.

The adventure began thus:  After traveling all day on Friday to
get to Boise, ID, we arrived and discovered all 11 pieces of our
luggage LOST. Our suitcases, costumes, props, and music scores
could not be traced. We piled into a mini-van (sans luggage)
and drove to Sun Valley where we were expected to perform that
night at a country club. Most of us were dressed casually for
travel; I had on a sweat suit from The Gap that looked like I
had a load in my pants.  After arriving and meeting our host
families, we were able to buy a few necessities at the only
drug store in town, and then had about 20 minutes to prepare
for our performance. My cast-mate Angie and I were exhausted
and stunned, but we put on make-up, sprayed perfume on each
other, and then rushed to the country club to sing for the rich
and well-dressed. Thanks to my book of G&S favorites I’d packed
in my carry-on (and some adrenaline), we were able to make it
through a 40 minute excerpt performance. The fancy people
gave us a standing ovation and a lot of wine.

The next day, we woke up in our luxurious, kick-ass log 
cabin to spectacular views of a rolling stream and snow-covered
mountains.  We’d hardly finished our breakfast when we got the
news that our bags were still lost. So, Saturday turned into
a mad rush to find concert wear and to our surprise (not
really), make-shift costumes and props for that evening’s show.
Angie and I found dresses at the local thrift shop, The Gold
Mine. Remember that stretchy velvet-like fabric so popular in
the 1990’s? Mine was a deep purple, long-sleeved tube dress
with a hem line somewhere between my knees and my name & address. 
Angie’s was a forest green velvet tent (we looked hot). When the
locals discovered we had lost our bags, they eagerly helped us
find shoes and gave us a discount at check-out. Meanwhile, our
director, Al, was furiously making props - fans and a large
axe, and enlisted his hosts to track down kimonos and wigs.
Our wigs were purchased at a toy store and were the consistency
of Barbie’s hair.  Angie and I tried to style the wigs into
Geisha-like buns, but it was almost impossible. There was
nothing to do but roar with laughter. We slapped the wigs on
our heads and went to the church for the show. We ended up with
some beautiful kimonos and bath robes donated by people who had
traveled to Japan or Hawaii.  However, what they presented for
Keith’s Mikado Ensemble was like nothing I’d ever seen: 
Liberace had raided the closet of one of the Golden Girls.
I’m waiting for Keith’s memoirs, “The Dark Side of Light Opera.”


























It is true that we didn’t look our best or have props that
weren’t sticky. Never mind that we were all dehydrated,
gasping for breath in the high altitude, and constantly
fighting back laughter over each other’s shitty wigs and
comments such as “I’m in Hooterville” or “I’m a whore!
I’ll do anything for a dollar.” We put on a show and
entertained the crowd with our voices and Gilbert &
Sullivan’s material. I don’t recall such enthusiastic
response from a crowd during a quintet performance, ever.
In their minds, perhaps we were like underdogs or somehow
handicapped with the disadvantage of lost luggage. Because
we could sing, act, dance, play the piano, be funny or
sentimental, and remember all the words, we were little
miracles.  I won’t be so quick to take my talent or the
talent of my peers for granted, dear hearts. A little
can take you a long way ... all the way to
Sun Valley, Idaho.

When I, good friends, was called to the Klondike bar...

Well, guess who's going to Alaska on Tuesday. If you guessed me, reasoning that I am what this blog is all about, and why would I be asking you to guess where anybody else is going, I would deduce you to be a person of normal or lower intelligence. Congratulations. This site is exactly where you belong. Your guardian angel must have led you here. Praise be! Say five "Hail Mary"s, wipe your feet, floss your teeth, and don't quote Pinafore for a week. Eat more vegetables. Give away those old paperbacks you'll never read again. Think about the stations of the cross!

And think about Barney Fife and Carl Kolchak. Gone in the same weekend. Too much. The cases they could have solved together!

Anyway, yes, Anchorage needs an emergency Judge. Trials are about to begin for the case of that bear who ate the psycho/surfer dude/MisterRogers wannabe from Herzog's Grizzly Man, and they want a hangin' judge from out of town. A judge who can dispense fair but firm justice to bears. I'll also be hearing the cases of a lemming who's being charged with suicide and a trespassing caribou who committed public indecency.

Haw, haw. I will have my joke. I'm going up to do Trial by Jury, of course! Tee-hee, I'll bet you knew that all along! They're doing a G&S program and their patter guy got lost in a blizzard and is now eating boiled shoes in a desolate cabin. I was available and cheap, plus the furthest north I've ever been was still in the state of Maine. Montreal and Quebec are closer than Northern Maine. I've always wanted to visit Alaska. I understand that if you make it there you can make it anywhere. Am I man enough? Watch these pages -- time alone can tell.

Did you clear that space on your bookshelf yet? Mrs. VALERIE FRANKEL's latest book is in stores now. It's got a lot of words in it, quite a few of which don't begin with 'f,' for some reason. Buy it, stick it on your bookshelf, notice that it seems to be misplaced after you've had people over, then buy another one and this time read it before another one of those unscrupulous chick lit fans takes advantage of you. It's at Barnes & Noble, Borders, etc., but Val likes you to buy it from Amazon because of reasons involving stuff I'm not sure of. CLICK HERE for a quick, easy link to right where you want to go on Amazon.