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June 18, 2002:

THE ELABORATE BUT CUNNING RUSE

Bruce Kimmel Photograph bk's notes

Well, dear readers, I promised you a surprise and by gum and by golly you shall get a surprise. While you all thought I was writing these here notes from the comfort of my very own home, I have, in fact, not been writing these here notes from my very own home. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, since Saturday I have been writing these here notes “on location” and far from the home I love. Now, why, you might ask, didn’t I mention this tiny morsel of information while I was actually writing “on location” and far from the home I love? Well, I’ll tell you why, because why should I keep such a thing from our very own dear readers? I didn’t mention this tiny morsel of information because I didn’t want anyone to know I was out of town and that my very own home was sitting empty. Therefore, I created an elaborate but cunning ruse, and this elaborate but cunning ruse included writing as if I were in my very own home, thereby fooling any potential uncouth interlopers into thinking I was actually there when, in fact, I was actually elsewhere. And just elsewhere was I whilst perpetrating my elaborate ruse? Why, I was in Las Vegas, Nevada, courtesy of the folks for whom I directed the Tourette’s Syndrome benefit. Wasn’t my elaborate but cunning ruse brilliant? Wasn’t it just too too?

Cissy Wechter and I drove up on Friday and arrived at about four-thirty (the drive took approximately four-and-a-half hours – this information will be important later in this story). Some of the Wechter clan was already there, and some arrived shortly thereafter. Oh, what fun we had. I gambled a bit that first night, and then I gamboled the next day whilst sunning myself at the pool in the 105 degree sun. There is nothing like gambling and gamboling. Not to mention eating. Oh, did we eat. In any case, I must tell you, looking around the pool as I was sunning myself, I realized that next to most of the other men who were doing same I was quite buff and toned with abs and buns of steel. And the blonde bits in my hair were simply dazzling in the Las Vegas sun.

On Saturday night we saw something entitled Blue Man Group at the Luxor Hotel. It was fun, and the blue men were very talented as they did their blue thing. It was a very loud show although I did not use the earplugs they gave us. In fact, I put the earplugs in my nose, just to show everyone that there were various and sundried uses for earplugs. I gambled some more when we got back to the hotel.

By Sunday I was down approximately $150, which I didn’t think was too too terrible. That night we ate at the Rainforest Café at the MGM Grand. The Rainforest Café resembles a rainforest, hence the clever name. They have storms, and apes, and elephants and also food. I had the Fried Catfish platter which was most excellent. When we got back to our hotel, David Wechter and I played craps. Well, we bought in together and he played whilst I cheered him on and also had a turn at throwing the dice, which I did quite handily and with a vivacious verve. We had some good luck, some bad luck and by the end of it all we’d lost $22.50 apiece (David had already won hundreds of dollars by himself, the brute). So, I was down about $175. However, at dessert that night I won a ten-dollar Keno.

Monday, prior to our departure, David and I pooled our money again and played craps (David had already won hundreds more that morning prior to my joining him, the brute). David was wearing his very own Benjamin Kritzer golf shirt, and that brought us some excellent luck. In fact, we could not lose. Eventually someone rolled a seven and ended the play, but not until we’d amassed enough money to cover what I was down and put me squarely in the “win” column. I haven’t left Vegas a winner in years.

Then Cissy and I headed home at two o’clock. We breezed along for the first half of the trip. Then, in Hesperia, things came to a crashing halt. Traffic simply stopped. We turned on the radio to find that there was a major brush fire and that the freeway was closed in both directions. It took an hour and fifteen minutes to go three miles, where they then diverted us in a circle to go back to Victorville or thereabouts. Wisely, we didn’t follow instructions and instead turned right where others were turning left to circle back. We went into a diner and the waitress gave us roundabout directions to get home an entirely different way. We ate a sandwich, and at six-forty we went on our merry way, new directions in hand. It took quite awhile to get to our destination, the 14 Freeway. Just before getting there, there was a major jam-up because several other people had had the same idea as us. In any case, we got to the 14 Freeway and, because there was a huge truck in front of us blocking our view, we took the first entrance we came to. Wrong. Mistake. Uh uh. Bad. We drove twenty miles out of our way before we finally realized that if we kept driving we’d end up in Oakland or somewhere. We turned around and headed back from whence we came. I finally arrived home at 10:00, a mere eight hours after we’d started out. Considering that I’m a major claustrophobic in traffic, I remained surprisingly calm for most of the trip. I did use an expletive to a Highway Patrol officer who wouldn’t answer a simple question. As we pulled off the freeway to circle around we asked him what kind of detour we were supposed to take and he brusquely ignored the question and snapped, “Keep moving”. I rolled down the window and said, “You sir, are an oleaginous ort and a poop”. He pretended he didn’t hear me as we drove on. I mean, honestly, who do these Highway Patrol people think they are? Someone should have been out there on a megaphone or something, informing people as to what was going on. Whatever happened to the Helpful Highway Patrol? No, now they’re the Highfalutin’ Highway Patrol. Broderick Crawford would have been appalled.

Well, wasn’t that a good surprise? Wasn’t my elaborate but cunning ruse cunning and elaborate? My house was safe and sound and no uncouth interlopers had interloped. And now you know the whole story, a bit late, yes, but in its entirety.

Now, I will ask this one more time – what has happened to our posters? We only had fifteen paltry posts yesterday – what was there was cherce, and I will, of course, take quality over quantity, but we must have quantity, too, mustn’t we? Post, post, post (that is three posts) or I shall have to be bitch-slapping the errant and truant. In the meantime, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below to find out our other Surprise O’ The Day?

We only had one answer to our Unseemly Trivia Contest – in fact, we only had two guesses. Neither guess was completely correct, but one guess had so many components that were correct and the things that weren’t correct could have also been a plausible answer, that I’m going to award that person a sparkling prize anyway. The question was:

This musical had among its creative staff someone who would go on to be a major composer in several media, and included in its cast someone who would go on to win an Academy Award, and someone who would achieve fame for a period of time starring in a cult TV series. The cast also included two future Tony Award-winners. Name the musical, the composer who would go on to major success, the Academy Award winner, the person who achieved fame in the TV series, the cult TV series and the two future Tony Award winners.

And the answers are:

Show: Henry, Sweet Henry
Composer: Marvin Hamlisch (did dance arrangements)
Academy Award winner: Don Ameche
TV star: Louise Lasser (also married to Woody Allen, but would leave that aspect out of question)
Cult TV series: Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman
Future Tony winners: Bob Avian and Priscilla Lopez

The sparkling prize goes to Mr. Michael Shayne. Thanks to Steve Gurey for the guest quiz.

Well, right about now you’re all wondering which Hollywood Star I’ll be meeting with today. Or, you’re wondering if the whole Hollywood Star thing is an elaborate but cunning ruse. In just a few short hours I will be meeting with Miss Cybill Shepherd. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that just too too? I have always liked Miss Cybill Shepherd and I am looking forward to this meeting with her. I will, of course, have a full report for you tomorrow. Speaking of tomorrow (and weren’t we?), don’t forget that it is Wednesday, Ask BK Day, so do get your excellent questions ready to ask. Ask anything, whatever your collective hearts desire. And I shall answer to the best of my ability, in an honest and forthright manner befitting someone who is buff and toned with abs and buns of steel.

Well, dear readers, I must prepare for my meeting with Miss Cybill Shepherd, and I also have an earlier meeting with a Broadway Producer, which I must also prepare for. Today’s topic of discussion: We’ve talked about many different aspects of the musical theater – but we’ve never talked about orchestrations. So, let us talk about orchestrations. What are your favorite show orchestrations and who is your favorite show orchestrator? Now, I know that Mr. Jonathan Tunick will get tons of votes, and I concur wholeheartedly. But there are others who came before and after. I’ll start: Jonathan Tunick, Robert Russell Bennett (especially Anything Goes), the great Eddie Sauter, the great Hershey Kay and many others. Favorite show orchestrations would be Promises, Promises (Tunick via Bacharach), Company, Follies, A Little Night Music, 1776, 110 In The Shade, I Do! I Do!, Henry, Sweet Henry, the original Anything Goes, the original Cabaret, and on and on. Your turn.

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