WADING IN

THE LAST LAUGH: A GAG GIFT-FILLED CHRISTMAS by Toe Knee Weighed

 

We had the Wade Family Christmas Gathering ^® at our house this year and after grubbing, all gathered in the living room to open presents.

 

 

My wife Beth and daughter Kaci controlled who opened what present when and in what order like the Present Nazis. Actually, it was good because then everyone could see what it was they received and I could whine about it never being my turn to open a gift.

 

 

Despite my cheapskate reputation, I gave some good gifts. Beth, whose favorite all-time movie is “The Princess Bride”, loved the t-shirt I got her which has a name tag printed on it saying “Hello my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.”

 

 

  I received some nice gifts including a portable grill, a book about competitive eating called “Horsemen of the Esophagus”, thirty fun ties (Scooby Doo, the Grinch, Dilbert etc), and a static cling with my favorite Bible verse (II Corinthians 5:17).

 

 

The Gag Gift Competition started out with Beth’s entry: Rock ‘Em Sock 'Em Robot finger puppets. It backfired because me and my brothers thought they were kinda cool.

 

 

We set a $5 per gift limit so Kelvin gave me a two-bottle cologne set which cost $10 bucks and kept one bottle himself.  My brother Orvis gave me a fortune cookie that said “Beware of extravagance.”

 

 

Beth gave me a gift supposedly from our cat Pearl who doesn’t like me. It contained a clear plastic box with two chunks of cat leavings. Beth was immediately disqualified for breaking the No Poop Rule.

 

I really outdid myself in gag gifting this year I must say. All the weeks of training culminated in a spectacular showing.

 

 

I gave several family members bubble wrap from Think Geek.com which contained “monkey breath.”

 

 

I gave Orvis and Kelvin two LPs a piece: Orvis got Glen Campbell’s “Rhinestone Cowboy” and “Slim Whitman Yodeling” while Kelvin squealed with girlish delight when he received Shaun Cassidy’s “Da Doo Run Run” and a polka one.

 

 

 I also blessed Orvis with Joey Buttafuoco and Tonya Harding comic books and “Dieting for Dummies.” The latter was a little mean-spirited, but I couldn’t resist.

 

 

My sister-in-law Patty received a used trophy—second place in darts at the Moose Lodge.

 

 

I gave a few family members 8-track tapes which of course is funny because who has an 8 track player anymore?

 

 

 

 

Then I opened my last gift, to myself, a portable 8 track player I got from Collins Music in Suisun City. It was still in the box and plays great.

 

 

I was about to relax when Kelvin pulled one more gift for me from behind the couch—an ominous sign.

 

 

I have to set this one up—in July all of my brothers including Scott from Canada were at Orvis’s house in Suisun City. Orvis’ little weiner dog Coco jumped on the sofa and well, tried to get amorous wth me.

 

 I don’t know why because they said he had never done that before or since. My brothers, sensitive as always, cracked up, filmed it, and put it on YouTube.

 

 

So the last present I opened was a photo frame with a picture of the July interspecies love incident and a note to me which read as follows:

 

 

Tony My Love,

When I think of our moment on the sofa this summer, it makes me pant. My paws twitch when I’m dreaming of you. No amount of food, chew toys, or petting by others can do the trick. What I’m saying is...you complete me.

 

Always, Coco

P.S. I dragged my butt across this note so you’ll always have my scent.

 

 

And yes there was a representation of what that would look like which Kelvin mercifully made with a melted Snickers bar.

 

 

Kelvin was thus disqualified for violating the spirit of the No Poop Rule so I am the winner of this year’s Gag Gift Competition. 

 

Still, his “note from Coco” had Patty laughing so hard she had to run to empty her bladder.

 

Oh well, there’s always next year.

__________________________________________________________

Reach Fairfield freelance writer Tony Wade at kelvinsbrother@sbcglobal.net

THE LAST LAUGH: A LOOK AT MY BEST FRIENDS, PAST AND PRESENT by Toe Knee Weighed

 

While I’ve always had friends, it really wasn’t until 5^th grade that I obtained a best friend. His name was Sam Inabinet and we shared a fanatical love of comic books, James Bond, Evel Knievel, and the Planet of the Apes.

 

In 1975 I learned that my family would be moving from Norfolk, Virginia

to Hamilton Air Force Base in Novato. I was crushed. Sam and I said our goodbyes and I’ve never seen him again.

 

At Hamilton AFB, I quickly got a new best friend, Brian Elliott, and with three other kids formed the CCCC or Cluttered Closet Comics Club. We read comics, traded comics, and would construct imaginary teams of Marvel superheroes and debate whose team could beat whose much like Fantasy Football. We talked about girls a lot too.

 

 

In the movie “Stand by Me”, the author of the story wrote that he “never had friends again like when he was 12, but who does?” and I can relate to that.

 

The adventures we had at Hamilton were so numerous that I have written an unfinished (and probably never to be published) 125 page book about them. Get this: it was actually only six months of my life.  But six months when you are a preteen is like 6 years when you’re 45.

When we moved to Fairfield in the summer of 1976, I hung out with a couple of neighborhood brothers who introduced me to smoking and I started getting into trouble. I gradually veered away from them and became best friends with a loner kid they used to pick on named Wayne Thomas.

 

Wayne was really handy and once found a huge tube, attached a 15 inch speaker to one end, and we would take turns crawling inside and blasting then-popular rock songs like Queen’s “We Will Rock You” and Sweet’s “Love is Like Oxygen” directly into our brains.

I became a fifth wheel in 9^th grade when Wayne got a girlfriend and soon John Nolan and I became best friends. It was ironic that we would hit it off because our fathers knew each other in the Navy and could not stand each other.

As an adult, I’ve had a few guys who could be considered my best friend. One was Jeff Plake who shared my love for Jesus Christ and my obsession with Scrabble. Our families became very close and we “homechurched” for 5 years.

 

 

In 2006, the Plakes moved to Texas and the day they left Jeff called me and suddenly I was that same 11-year old boy again in Virginia

who was fighting back tears at not being able to see his friend any more.

 

As I’ve gotten older, my concept about what a best friend can be has deepened. For one, I’ve learned that some of the people I called best friends really knew nothing about me. We communicated mainly on superficial levels. I mean, how deep can you get as a kid?

 

 

It’s really only been in the last 15 years or so of my life that I’ve learned about real intimacy and practiced how to be open and honest with another human being.

 

 

One thing I could never really understand was the concept of a woman being your best friend. That is, until I met my bride Beth Stevens. Being open, honest, vulnerable, and real with her has made Beth the best best friend I’ve ever had.  

 

 

I can now fully relate to one of my favorite Queen songs: “You’re My Best Friend”:

 

 

“You're the best friend that I ever had

I've been with you such a long time

You're my sunshine and I want you to know

That my feelings are true I really love you

You're my best friend”

 

Happy 15^th anniversary, Beth.

_______________________________________________________

Fairfield freelance writer Tony Wade really is a hopeless romantic and not just a clever cheapskate who figured writing a column is a lot easier than springing for some crystal for his 15^th anniversary.

 Reach him at kelvinsbrother@sbcglobal.net

THE LAST LAUGH: WORKING ON MY GAG GIFTS, GETTIN' GEEKY ABOUT REAL ONES by Toe Knee Weighed

The Christmas season brings joy, peace and love as people focus on giving and spending quality time with loved ones.

 

 

But it also brings a whole lot of stress.

 

As if putting up the tree, decorating the house inside and out, and then having to shop (a four letter word in more ways than one for most guys) is not enough, at the annual Wade Family Christmas Gathering ^® we have an unofficial competition each year: The Gag Gift Showdown.

 

 

The whole thing started in the 1980s when my brother Ken gave my brother Orvis a Barbie knockoff doll named Twistee. The following year, Orvis waited until all the gifts were opened and gave one last gift to Ken which was of course the return of Twistee.

 

 

 From there it snowballed. I’ve related the story of the sub-competition between Ken and I to see who could give the worst gift which he won when he got me an Iron Maiden iron on patch and stapled the bag he bought it in onto the wall next to the Christmas tree.

 

 

To be a good gag gift there needs to be a little inventiveness. Simply buying the a bag of plastic army men at the Dollar Store isn’t enough.

 

 

I have made a respectable showing each year, but Kelvin continues to be the undisputed master of the Gag Gift. The man is to gag gifting what Tom Brady, Kobe Bryant, and Jimmie Johnson are to their respective sports.

 

 

Kelvin raised (or lowered if you will) the bar last year with two classic maneuvers. Everyone re-gifts, but Kelvin added a new twist when he opened a gift from our sister-in-law, Patty, put it in a box he had brought and gave the same gift to her husband Orvis.

 

 

The coup de grace was the hamburger he gave me which had a bite out of it.

 

 

How do you compete with that?

 

 

Gifts for Geeks

 

 

While I’m still brainstorming gag gifts, I found a wonderful company for real ones. I have always considered myself to be a nerdy geek and in fact the scene in “Revenge of the Nerds” where the title characters proudly lay claim to their status as outsiders while Queen’s “We are the Champions” plays softly in the background still brings a tear to my eye.

 

 

So it was refreshing to come across clever and inventive gifts from Fairfax, Virginia based company Think Geek. They have so many items which are unique and have an intelligent sense of humor about them. To be honest, they had me at the titanium spork ($8.99).

 

But there are all kinds of wonderful items available from neat stocking stuffers like a bi-color blow on/off LED candle which doesn’t melt ($11.99) to a dual band cell phone signal boost extender ($329.99). Here are some other awesome gifts they offer:

 

·        Darth Vader or R2D2 USB hub (Darth $49.99, R2 $39.99)

 

 

·        a watch with a built in hidden flash drive ($49.99)

 

 

·        pi symbol ice cube trays ($8.99)

 

 

·        a desktop terrarium that grows ten varieties of insect-eating plants ($24.99)

 

 

·        sunglasses that capture video and can play MP3s ($119.99)

 

 

·        car jump starter which connects via the cigarette lighter and allows you to jump start your car without opening the hood ($24.99)

 

 

·        4 GB Video Pen camera ($99.99)

 

 

·        wi-fi detector hat and shirt which has a totally functional wi-fi detector built into an EL illuminated t-shirt and cap (shirt $19.99  cap $14.99)

 

 

·        illuminated jetbib feeding system for babies—The spoon, shaped like a jet, features flashing LEDs and the bib leading to the babie’s hopefully open mouth features an illuminated runway ($24.99)

 

 

·        tons of geek-related t-shirts featuring sayings like “What happens in the Holodeck stays in the Holodeck” or a dreaded Star Trek red shirt with one word across the front: “Expendable” ($15.99- $21.99)

 

 

And that is just a sample. Get your geek shopping spree on.

_____________________________________________________________

Reach Fairfield freelance writer Tony Wade at kelvinsbrother@sbcglobal.net

MISSOURI STREET THEATRE'S "SCHOOLHOUSE ROCK LIVE!" IS GREAT, AND NOT JUST BECAUSE MY DAUGHTER IS IN IT by Toe Knee Weighed

 
When I started reviewing plays freelance for the Daily Republic thgree and half years ago, one of the first things I was told is that they do not review children's productions. There are some exceptions like Solano Repertory's recent production of "Peter Pan" which featured many children, but had lots of adult aactors as well.

Obviously one of the reasons for not doing kid's shows was that criticizing the strengths and weaknesses of someone over 18 in a public forum (albeit a rapidly shrinking one) is very different thing than with the Hannah Montana set.

But also there's the whole problem with parents who then complain that their child wasn't featured prominently enough in the article and blah blah blah blah. I've seen overbearing parents at youth productions and now that my daughter is in a show I'm determined not to be one.

Much.

So this is not a review as such. Just a note to say that if you want to have a great inexpensive time go check out the show. It's not even necessary to have been a kid in the '70s and get all nostalgic as they do "Conjunction Junction", "I'm Just a Bill", "Rufus Xavier Sasparilla" and others to enjoy the show. The energy, choreography, singing and vibe are really spot on. There is audience participation, great props, and just a real feel-good vibe going on there.

I only wish the had done "Lolly, lolly, lolly, get your adverbs here" and "Verb" but besides that it was perfect. So go see the show. Click here for more info. When you are going into the show, tell 'em Tony Wade sent you and you'll get a complimentary "Who?"

THE LAST LAUGH: A FOND LOOK BACK ON WHEN CASSETTES WERE KING by Toe Knee Weighed

 
 
         

    Until they come up with cerebral implants that can instantly play a tune inside your head the second you think of it, digital files seem to be the most convenient format. But I don’t suspect that twenty years from now you will have people fondly remembering the first time they downloaded a Lady Gaga song from iTunes.

 

 By comparison, there are many people who love records because they swear vinyl not only sounds better than its digital counterpart, but also has more aesthetic appeal. There are even people who have a fascination with 8-track tapes (www.8trackheaven.com).

 

But my favorite now-obsolete music format is cassette tapes. For one thing, cassettes were truly compact unlike the ironically-named compact disc. Try sticking that “Back in Black” CD in your shirt pocket without ripping a hole.

 

There were some tapes I played so much that the song info was no longer legible, but I could tell whether it was Parliament’s “Funkentelechy vs. The Placebo Syndrome” or Lakeside's “Fantastic Voyage” by just the residual ink smudges.

 

The major downside to cassettes was that they never went peacefully into the sunset, but instead would usually die in the middle of your favorite song by being “eaten” by the player.  One second I’d be putting on my my my my my boogie shoes and the next I’d be pulling out ribbons of magnetic tape stuck in my player like al dente spaghetti on an incisor.

 

 

Now, tapes being eaten wasn’t really the fault of the player (although I did have a couple that were velociraptor-like), but usually because the tapes were worn out.

 

 

Being able to just click to whatever song on a CD or digital file you want to hear is convenient, but having to rewind or fast forward tapes had a plus side. You see, back in the 1980s when cassettes were king, it was a slower, simpler time.

 

 

  If I was waiting for Def Leppard’s “Hysteria “ to rewind to the first track “Women”, it gave me time to sit back on my porch swing, take a long sip of my Country Time lemonade and play a gentle, haunting rendition of “Pour Some Sugar On Me” by blowing on an empty moonshine jug.

 

 

Of course, the major advantage cassette tapes had over vinyl records was that you could record your own. While I later got a nice stereo console and could make mix tapes directly from the radio, LPs, or high-speed dub them from other tapes, when I was 12 I had to record them live off the airwaves from my Panasonic ball and chain AM radio. I would listen to KFRC for hours waiting for songs I wanted to tape.

 

 

Now, I took for granted that the DJ was going to talk over the opening bars of songs, but hoped that there would be no other external noise to ruin it. Unfortunately my mom would almost always choose that moment to burst into my room and the recorded result would be something like this:

 

 

MY RADIO: “Play that funky music white boy!”

MY BEDROOM DOOR: Creak!

MY MOM: Tony! I told you to take out the garbage!

ME: Shh! (frantically pointing at the radio and recorder)

MY MOM: Boy, don’t shush me in my own house! Get out there and take out the garbage like I told you!”

MY BEDROOM DOOR: Slam!

MY RADIO: “Lay down the boogie and play that funky music til you die.”

ME: @#$%&!

 

 

One closing cassette note: when I was in high school some punk stole my boom box out of the back seat of my best friend John Nolan’s 1974 Chevy Vega. While I liked the boom box, what really irritated me was that “Cheap Trick at Budokan” was in it and I had just gotten it the day before. Ain’t that a shame? If the culprit is reading this, I hope my boom box ate it.

____________________________________________________

Also check out things to do with old cassettes here. Reach Fairfield freelance writer Tony Wade at kelvinsbrother@sbcglobal.net

SOLANO REPERTORY COMPANY'S "PETER PAN" AN ENCHANTING SUCCESS By Toe Knee Weighed

FAIRFIELD—Theatre folk have long been superstitious evidenced by the practice of saying “break a leg” instead of “good luck.” But Solano Repertory Company had no reservations about opening their run of “Peter Pan” on Friday the 13^th as they didn’t rely on luck, but on homegrown talent and hard work to produce an enchanting show.

Not willing to rest on the laurels of the success of the company’s award-winning spring production of “Cats”, Solano Rep Director Barbara Norris took their latest offering up a notch. Actually several notches, straight up in the air. 

 

 

The familiar story of the little boy from Neverland who could fly and refused to grow up was an imaginative swashbuckling romp filled with wonderful special effects and clever humor.

 

I’ll get to the actors and costumes and all that later, but why not focus on what we all came to see? I'm talking about, of course, people soaring effortlessly around the Fairfield Creative Arts Center stage.

While , as everyone knows, what really enables the characters  to fly is pixie dust coupled with thinking lovely thoughts, the actors got a bit of help from Flying By Foy, the Las Vegas company who has been helping Peter Pans take to the air for over half a century.

The dynamic aerial feats were fun to watch and some even had a bit of ballet finesse to them. There were a couple of times when the illusion was broken like when a backstage member working the wires was visible onstage or when the timing was a bit off, but it was still a most delightful spectacle.

 

Alicia Miller imbued the title role with tomboyish pluck and animated whimsy. Like most of the cast members she genuinely appeared to be having fun with the character and that quality was picked up on by the audience.While Miller did a most capable job with the musical numbers, her Peter Pan rooster crow in the song “I Gotta Crow” was kinda weak.

 

The songs in “Peter Pan” aren’t as universally loved as ones from other musicals like “The Wizard of Oz” but “I Won’t Grow Up” and “Ugh-A-Wug” were well done and well-received.

 

Haley Mosher was delightful as Wendy and exuded a confident stage presence and showed off a strong singing voice on “I’m Flying” and “Tender Shepherd.” Salena Solis did a solid job in the role of Tiger Lily.

 

 

Mark Miller was over the top, and hilariously brilliant as Captain Hook. I only wish I didn’t know that he and Alicia were husband and wife because images of Peter and Captain Hook kissing kinda distracted me. Still, what happens in Neverland stays in Neverland.

 

There were a ton of adorable kids too numerous to list who did an extraordinary job in the ensembles of the Lost Boys, the Animals, and the Indians. Their singing and choreography (with kudos to Liz Andrews) were first-rate.

 

The band of pirates, led comically by Miller consisted of local stage veterans Michael Doppe, Kristin Martin, Richard Slota, Julianna Kohley, Richard Potts, and Drew McMillan. Their exuberance was infectious and hilarious.

 

Sylvia Gregory did double duty as set designer and costume designer. The sets, especially the forest and the pirate ship, were both functional and beautiful. The animal’s costumes were fun (especially the ostrich) and Gregory outdid herself with the pirates. Hook in particular had the whole frilly-shirt-Prince-in-“Purple Rain”-thing going on which was perfect.

 

Spoiler alert: please don’t read this paragraph if you plan to see the show. The most hilarious scene was when Captain Hook heard the tick tock of the crocodile who had bit off his arm approaching and became deathly afraid. When his dreaded nemesis came on stage it was wee Rachel Brown wearing the cutest lil’ crocodile costume you ever saw and when Hook shrieked and ran off the stage the audience erupted in laugher.

 

Even though I had not been given the requisite sprinkling of fairy dust, after the show I thought the lovely thought of what a great production Solano Rep put on and felt myself getting a little airborne. Who needs wires? 

 

Solano Repertory Company presents “Peter Pan”

7:30 p.m. November 19^th,

8:00 p.m. November 20^th, 21^st , 2;00 p.m. November  22^nd

Fairfield Center for the Creative Arts

1035 Texas Street

$10 to $15 purchase at City Hall at the Mall

www.solanorep.com

three stars out of four

A REBUTTAL TO BRAD STANHOPE'S LIWS (LIKE I WAS SAYIN') ARTICLE --MY COMMENTS ARE IN BOLD by Toe Knee Weighed

What's the deal with the alphabet soup?

Like I Was Sayin'

 

By Brad Stanhope | |

November 15, 2009

I remember the day I snapped: I was reading a column by Tony Wade.

 

Yeah, I get that a lot. Usually people shoot up post offices instead of just writing columns though.

 

Now, I love Tony (even though he ranks No. 2 in a poll asking readers their favorite DR columnist).

 

After Mr. Nice Guy Bud Stevenson of course.

 

I admire his wicked sense of humor and am amazed by his ability to write a column, two blogs, several entertainment stories and whatever else gets assigned at the Daily Republic.

 

On hot days I walk closely behind Daily Republic publisher Bill James and provide shade as well.

 

He's a Renaissance Man (although more like Rusty, a farmer in rural

France in 1508 than Leonardo da Vinci).

This reminds me of how whenever I hear someone talk about their past lives, they were always a famous person or a Lord or Lady. No one is ever some anonymous peasant.

 

But in one of his columns about the sad-sack Oakland Raiders, Tony wrote this: 'I usually come early to the game so I can go onto the field and snap a few photos for my TLSOTBH blog.'

 

Whaaaaaaaaaaa?

 

TLSOTBH? What the heck is that?

 

It took some digging, but I found out what it means: It's Tony's DR blog called 'The Lighter Side Of The Black Hole.'

But who knew that?

 

Well, maybe if you had read THE NAME OF THE COLUMN YOU WERE READING a lightbulb may have came on!

 

OK. Other than Tony and his 525 Facebook friends (grrrrrr. He is crushing me in our battle for Facebook friends, although it's notable that he has 200 friends named 'Wade Tony.')

 

Not true. I do have some named Antoine Wade, Antonio Wade,  and Antoinette Wade. Oh, and 17 are goats.

 

TLSOTBH?

OMG!

LOL!

 

Seeing Tony's indecipherable reference reminded me of other ridiculous acronyms people use. It's just too much.

 

And this isn't about the overuse of government acronyms (I wrote about that 127 times in the 1970s) or the fact that police officers always create ridiculous acronyms for task forces like PUNCH or STOP (I wrote about that 121 times in the 1980s) or the explosion of new terms associated with the Internet (I wrote about that 192 times in the 1990s).

 

No, this is an issue for the 21st century -- the use of long acronyms that don't spell out words, particularly about TV. Like TLSOTBH. Or, in the one that confounds me every time I see it: SYTYCD.

 

My favorite from back in the day would be DVDS--Dick Van Dyke Show.

 

Do you know that? People write it all the time. It's the acronym for Fox's 'So You Think You Can Dance.'

SYTYCD? Really?

 

People couldn't just write the title? Or shorten it ('So you can dance'). Or describe it ('Fox's dance show'). Or mime it (Imagine me dancing)?

Apparently not. Apparently everybody sees an alphabet soup of letters and immediately knows what it means. Apparently everybody was also told that baggy pants aren't cool anymore and that it isn't hip to have Barry Manilow blasting from your car radio. Apparently everybody was informed that 'Get jiggy with it' isn't hip now and that TV stations would start mixing their signals in a way that makes them indecipherable to my 1970s Magnavox.

 

Who said “Get jiggy wit it” wasn’t hip? What you talkin’ ‘bout Willis?

 

But enough about that. I'm upset that we have all these long acronyms -- especially about TV shows. I'm not opposed to simple ones like 'AI' or 'TRL.' I understand what 'SNL' is.

 

Super Natural Lover? Silky Neon Lizards?

 

But don't call 'The CBS Evening News With Katie Couric' TCBSENWKC. And don't even say 'DWTS' (Dancing with the Stars) or 'ANTP' ( America

's Next Top Model) because . . . I . . . don't . . . understand . . . what . . . you're . . . talking . . . about.

Or, IDUWYTA.

 

See? It's ridiculous.

 

Here's all I'm asking: If a long acronym doesn't spell something out -- particularly if it's for a television show -- just say the name.

If you do that, I'll agree to stop listening to BMTTGTF really loud in my car.

('Barry Manilow's Trying To Get The Feeling.')

See? Now you know how I feel.

 

But DYFLIDAPFOS (do you feel like I do as Peter Frampton once sang) ?

_____________________________________________________________

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor who's been up, down trying to get the feeling.

WHY I AM GOING TO VOTE FOR JOHN MRAZ by Toe Knee Weighed

 

With his keys, cell phone, and 357 magnum already in there, I have no idea how Fairfield Vice-Mayor, up for re-election on Tuesday, managed to fit my brother Kelvin in his pocket, but somehow he did.

I kid.

This full-page ad ran both Saturday and Sunday in the Daily Republic.

I actually have to concur with my brothers suggestion that Mraz is the right fit for the City Council. Not for the reasons that Kelvin highlights:

 

 
 

I think this is one of the best political ads ever. Not simply because my brother is featured in it, but because Mraz's campaign used it so prominently. 

I mean, if I am reading this correctly, John Mraz is a prickly curmudgeon pit bull who rubs people the wrong way and is likely to call you fat (if you are).

None of those are particularly endearing qualities and yet they seem to work in the ad. Brilliant!
 

Coupled with that fact that Mraz recently shot a rattler in a neighbor's yard, what more do you need to know?

"THIS IS IT" IS IT

By Kelvin 'Byg Datty' Wade

            “Michael Jackson’s This Is It” (PG, 112 minutes) delivers the goods.

            The film begins with auditions for dancers. Their interviews reveal just how special and emotional the opportunity they feel to audition for Michael Jackson is.

            The rehearsals get off to a rousing start with the first two smoking hot numbers, “Wanna Be Starting Something” from the Thriller album and “Jam” from Dangerous. When you see the pyro, feel that thumping beat and watch the effortless moves, you feel privileged to be able to peek behind the curtain and see what the King of Pop had in store.

            It is amazing to see a 50 year old man holding his own with very fit, athletic dancers in their twenties. After being bombarded with tabloid stories about Jackson’s use of downers, one wonders where such a thin man gets the energy to perform at this level.

            The performances are culled from several different rehearsals as Jackson appears in many different costumes. Some reviewers found this distracting as there would be cutaways to a different rehearsal of the same song, mid-song but it’s edited so fluidly, it comes across like what you’d see in a video on MTV.

            “The Way You Make Me Feel” is staged in such a meticulous way, with Michael pushing the band to “let it simmer” and get it just right. The choreography and set pieces for the song breathes new life into the 22 year old hit.

            Jackson doesn’t always sing every line in a song, choosing to conserve his voice. But he can’t help himself in “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You” and delivers a breathtaking duet to the delight of the stagehands, technicians and dancers comprising the audience.

            The background videos were often stunning. In one, what appears to be thousands of dancers dance behind Jackson. “Thriller” is re-imagined both visually (Jackson emerges from a giant spider) and musically (a new rocking ending to the song keeps it fresh).

            “Earth Song” is a song I’d never really cared for but it was beautifully performed in “This Is It” with an amazing video and onstage special effects.

            The tight backing band is a special effect themselves. The band consisted of Alfred Dunbar (bass), Michael Bearden and Mo Pleasure (keyboards), Bashiri Johnson (percussion), Tommy Organ (rhythm guitar), Orianthi Panagaris (lead guitar), and Jonathan “Sugarfoot” Moffett anchoring the beat on drums. These talented players have played for a who’s who in music: The Jacksons, Prince, Madonna, Stevie Wonder, Paul Simon, Cameo, Carlos Santana and so on.

            What you see is that Michael Jackson was in control of these rehearsals. One walks into the theater expecting to see a drugged, skeletal pop star going through the motions of a rehearsal for concerts he didn’t want to do, if you believe the tabloids. But what you see is an energetic, mastermind who is intricately involved in all aspects of the production. He’s a driven taskmaster who instructs with kindness.

            It’s obviously a poignant film because the viewer realizes that the man on the screen will never have the opportunity to perform what would have been (from all we see here) an amazing concert. While the film doesn’t have the best production values, camera angles and segues, that’s because this was never meant to be released to the public. But still, director Kenny Ortega has managed to put together something that gives us a delicious taste of what was to come.

            The best thing about “This Is It” is it strips away all the tabloid stories, rumors and freak show that we’ve come to expect from Michael Jackson over the years and shows us what an immensely talented artistic genius he was. What a loss.

FAIRFIELD CIVIC THEATRE'S "GREASE" IS A ROCKIN' TREAT by Toe Knee Weighed

FAIRFIELD----Barbara McFadden, director of Fairfield Civic Theatre’s production of “Grease”, had a dilemma when the 1950’s era vehicle she rented for the “Greased Lightning” number did not arrive on time for opening night.

Matt Larson as Danny Zuko—the role made famous by John Travolta in the 1978 film version of the play—did not know about her solution to the problem until McFadden’s convertible 1993 Mazda Miata rolled onto the stage.

 

That moment could have shattered the audience’s suspension of disbelief that it was 1959 and derailed the play, but Larson’s training as a member of the local improvisational comedy troupe Rats in the Alley kicked in.

 

Without missing a beat he said to Kenickie (fellow RITA member Adam Serafino) “What’s with this…futuristic hunk o’ junk?” The audience roared.

 

As the saying goes, the show must go on.

 

FCT’s “Grease” was driven by great casting, catchy songs, and eye-popping choreography. Larson as Danny had appropriate swagger, projected a confident stage presence, and showed off a strong singing voice.

 

Kat McFadden was splendid as Sandy Dumbrowski. The script calls for her to be either frustrated or sad for most of the play and then confident and sexy at the end and McFadden deftly handled it all. Plus, she’s got serious pipes to boot.

 

Kim Doppe was perfect as the rather overbearing teacher Ms. Lynch. Cady Dillman aptly portrayed self-obsessed cheerleader Patty Simcox. Camille Roybal infused the role of Rizzo with spunky sexiness.

 

A lot of the truly comic relief was added by Matt King as the nerdy Eugene

and Danielle Morris as the constantly eating Pink Lady Jan.

 

The sets were Spartan but effective as the characters and music carried the show. The sound design nicely incorporated period music like Elvis’s “Hound Dog” as well as fifties-style radio DJs in-between scenes.

 

The talented band consisted of Jennifer Hobbs on keyboard, Richard Kmieciak on bass, Nate Rivard on guitar, Jennifer Muller on percussion and Bill Aron and Davis Henderson on saxophone. They ripped through the Eisenhower-era jams with precision and flair.

 

Some of the memorable musical numbers included “Summer Nights”, “Greased Lightning” and “We Go Together.” The lively dance contest during “Born to Hand Jive” underscored the brilliant choreography of Lori Babington and John Rivard.

 

Two of the best musical highlights of the play were Teen Angel (Frank Salamone) singing a sublime version of “Beauty School  Dropout” to purple-haired Frenchy (Caitlyn Gunderson-Lytal) and Burger Palace Boy Doody (Jake Saenz)’s note-perfect run-through of “Those Magic Changes.”

 

While the original Broadway musical was a Tony award-winning hit, the movie version was such a smash that later stage productions added songs from the film. FCT was no exception.

 

The Barry Gibb-penned title song is so identified with the play that leaving it out would be unthinkable. “Hopelessly Devoted to You” (belted out by Kat McFadden) and “ Sandy” (which Larson handled nicely) were other welcome additions.

Following the climactic scene when Sandy transforms herself from goody two-shoes bobby soxer to black-clad vixen, I was disappointed that the song chosen was “All Choked Up” from the play and not “You’re the One That I Want” from the movie.

Thankfully, after the curtain call Larson got down on his knees and announced he had multiplying chills, that he was losing control, and that the power Sandy was supplying was electrifying. All was then right in my greasy world.

The only problem I have with ‘Grease” is not with FCT’s production but the play itself. It’s the perception that Sandywas somehow in the wrong for being “lousy with virginity.” It appears that the message is that the way to get the guy who treated you like he didn’t know you in front of his friends is to be a tramp. Still, the characters are mostly caricatures, and maybe I’m just thinking too much.

Hot on the heels of their spring spectacular “The Wizard of Oz” Fairfield Civic Theatre has another winner on their hands. “Grease” is a rockin’ and rollin’ treat. 3 stars out of 4