I must tell you...I am facing a crisis of unparalleled dimensions. Oklahoma!—one of my fave musicals—is being put on by a local theater group. And I am not in it.
I have loved Oklahoma ever since I saw a high school production of it (featuring my sister) some gazillion years ago. At this point, I know a respectable portion of the score and I have seen the movie several times, though I always fast forward through the dream sequence. (What the fuck is UP with that bit?) Back before I moved to Israel, I held an Oklahoma party. I bought a copy of the score, made lots of photocopies, rented the movie and then invited my friends over for a party in which we watched Oklahoma and sang along. I sang “I Cain’t Say No” at a karaoke bar in The Middle Of Nowhere, West Virginia. My performance was so inspiring, so…real…that a shockingly drunk local tried to pick me up.
And now, I am missing out on my chance to achieve the next level of ! To ride in that surry with the fringe! Out of my dreams and onto the stage I long to fly, baby!
So why am I not in the play? Simple. The auditions were in January. I only heard about them today. In March. At 4’ish. A tad late.
But perhaps not too late?
I mean, all I want to be is a rock. There are rocks in Oklahoma, no? So I could dress up in something gray and bulky—say a trash bag—and crouch down on the side and play a nice, friendly, singing rock. You know—the type of rock that sits there, does not participate in any dance numbers (because these require not missing two months of rehearsals) and does not have any lines (natch) but that does sing along with ALL the songs. Because it knows them.
Of course, I can also do that from the audience.
That might even be more fun. I could bring along my copy of the score. And, come in costume. (Not as a rock—as Laurie or Ado Annie). That would be like....Oklahoma meets the Rocky Horror Picture Show. YES!
Anyone want to come with?