Tonight I return to the scene of the crime.
My step-daughter and niece are in a production of "The Pirates of Penzance" at Box Elder High School, and I plan to show up.The last time I showed up for a B.E. musical was 30 years ago.
That's because I was in it. And the memories of opening night keep coming back like a two-liter bottle of bad pennies.
We did "My Fair Lady" that year. And given what he had to work with, choir director Wes Boman did a crackerjack job.
He just didn't have very much to work with.
For starters, our Henry Higgins was a fine actor with real stage presence. The problem was when he opened his mouth to sing he sounded like Barney Fife on the Andy Griffith Show. We solved things by having Higgins speak a line or two of each song while Chris Larson, I and some other guys dashed on stage behind him and sang the number.
We weren't exactly The Four Freshmen ourselves, but it worked fine, except when "class clown" Larson would try to take hold of my hand during the love lyrics, hoping I'd come unglued and make an idiot of myself.
Meanwhile, our Eliza Doolittle soldiered on - coming across as rather wonderful and winsome in the role. And she could sing. The problem there was she was as sweet and innocent as Eliza herself. She had a tendency to breathe between syllables and create dirty words that would send the audience into snickers.
Keep in mind here, Mr. Boman considered "singing" our strong suit.
As for the dancing, it's just a blur now - as it was then. And the acting? Well, my big scene was in the song "Show Me." That's when Judy Nielson and I stood back-to-back onstage in mock anger. Determined to push my acting skills to the very limit, I began elbowing Judy during the song just to show how "angry" I was. She took it as real, however, and elbowed me back - hard.
Afterward people kept asking me what I had against Judy Nielson and why I couldn't control my temper, at least while I was on stage.
All the rest is just bits and pieces now.
I remember learning what an "ascot" was all about. I remember how great Nancy Barnard looked in her maid outfit and I remember Mr. Boman putting in 20 hours a day just trying to keep the wheels from coming off.
And I have to say, the wheels did stay on.
They've stayed on for 30 years. Today, I never hear "You Did It!" and "On the Street Where You Live" without flashing back to 1967 and feeling a smile steal across my face.
I hope the memories my step-daughter and niece have of their own opening night will be as wonderful, warm and irreplaceable as my own.