Oh, That's Right, I Forgot

Hi again. Geez, I'm sick of myself. Anyway. I forgot to mention that I met Tim Rice a few weeks ago.

That's right, I said Tim Rice. What he's got to do with El Paso is perhaps a miracle of freakishness. Or something like that. It so happens that the founder/director of the UTEP Dinner Theater loved Jesus Christ Superstar so much when it came out he wrote a fan letter to both Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber. Tim Rice gushed, perhaps also provided encouraging words and an autograph and the founder/director peed himself with glee. They've been friends ever since.

So there we all were 25 years after the wonderful Dinner Theater was founded, sucking down champagne and munching on some hummus pitas in a large-glass-windowed lounge overlooking the Sun Bowl.

I have a very special and talented friend to thank for making that possible, by the way. As it turns out, the founder/director man took it upon himself to construct a nearly three-hour-long tribute to the Rice which included performances by the likes of Debbie (ahem, Deborah, sorry) Gibson and five other more talented-er Broadway singers. My very special and talented friend, V just happened to be in the chorus for the show and she gave me a ticket!

The show was nothing short of... well, it was nothing short. It was almost three hours long, like I said. But it was very entertaining, mostly because a.) I love Jesus Christ Superstar forever and ever and b.) That damn Circle of Life song that the whole choir did with the orchestra took my breath away. It seriously sounded magnificent. And I really mean to use the word magnificent because that was the only word I could form with my mouth after it was over.

Other highlights:

• Debbie Gibson played a really hot Evita and kept prounouncing the Argentian capital "Buay noce aye rees"
• The guy who played Judas and King Herod sang his songs really well. Rest in peace, Carl Anderson.
• The guy who played all the other major characters was pretty talented and squealed a lot. It mentioned on the program that he starred as the title character in Elton John's (ill-fated, sadly) Lestat on Broadway. Cool.
• There was one woman from the theatrical version of Hair that mangled "I Don't Know How to Love Him." She mentioned that she had never sung any of Tim Rice's songs before. It became clear that she really hadn't because she played Mary Magdalene like she was a hooker straight out of a Brooklyn red-light district circa 1968.
• The one girl who sang selections from Tim Rice and Elton John's Aida was a serious serious gem of vocal talent.
• The original Annie was there too!

Because of that show, I now am interested in familiarizing myself with Tim's other musicals including Chess (which I sang a song from at a high school musical revue) and Blondel. During one of his between-song monologues, Tim mentioned that he also did work on an obscure French musical from the late 60s (I believe). The song was so good, I really wanted to Google it when I got home but I forgot what it was called.

Ah, Tim Rice. He loves El Paso as much as any other English bloke who knows where El Paso even is. He happily stated that he's almost as famous as Marty Robbins in El Paso. Hmm... I don't know about you, Tim, but Marty Robbins was so forty years ago. The most anyone knows about him in my generation (or younger) is that he's got a park overlooking some suburban rooftops and traffic lights right before the intersection of George Dieter and Vista Del Sol. And that's if they even live in that area. No offense. Really, though, whenever I told anyone that I was going to see the Tribute to Tim Rice show, they didn't know who I was talking about. Exceptions: music majors, musical theater majors, and anyone who is involved with the UTEP Dinner Theater and/or Viva! El Paso. I'd say about half the capacity of the Don Haskins Center knows who he is.  

And then, when the show was over I was invited to meet the man himself at an exclusive after-show party by the Sun Bowl. It had a pretty nice getup. My getup on the other hand was uncomfortable. I felt like I dressed weird, having donned a sheer black ruffly shirt. I looked like a figure skater who just went to the opera. But anyway, that's just because I really had to get ready in a hurry and was short on clean dress clothes. Whatever.  

Of course, about 20 minutes into the little gettogether, Debbie Gibson bolted. I'm guessing she was horrified at having to sign everyone's programs and cassette tapes. The rest of the cast was courteous enough to remain in the room, sipping cocktails and signing posters, etc. A couple of castmembers even chatted casually with some fans, happy to take a picture or two afterwards.

Some people there, though, man. They were almost too eager to collect everyone's autographs. They ran around the room, keeping tallies of who they'd gotten to sign what and if they got flattering enough photos to put later that evening on facebook first thing. Of course, I stood in line behind these zealous people who were inclined to have the star/stars sign five zillion different items; one for each family member and/or cult follower who couldn't attend.

Then came THE moment I'd kind of been waiting for. I shook Tim Rice's hand and squealed "OHMYGODIT'SSOWONDERFULTOMEETYOUSIGNTHISPOSTER!" I calmly inserted a metallic silver-inked Sharpie in his startled hand. He was slightly red-faced from anxiety and annoyance, but I swear, I didn't do that to him. He looked like he'd been wanting to leave for a while before that.

Still, he mirrored/mocked my bright little face and signed the poster twice, once for me and once for V, since we had to split the poster because we only had one.

In those moments I kept thinking about an earlier monologue he told the audience during the show about him and Andrew Lloyd Webber. It turns out that they were just a couple of struggling guys wanting to make a hit song in the late 60s. During a time when Scott Mackenzie's "San Francisco" and the Bee Gees' "Road to Alaska" were hitting it big, it seemed like the surefire way to get a hit song was to include an American place in the lyrics. They insisted on writing one even though neither of them had ever been to America. Thus, a now-familiar tune put to the words, "I long for Kansas morning" was written. When he started to sing the song, I laughed. The lyrics were seriously despicable. It was set in the point of view of a lonely guy who was jailed in Maine and who missed everything in his dear homeland of Kansas; Kansas wind, Kansas grass, Kansas lightposts, etc. It honestly sucked. The tune was eventually reworded soon after that to be used for Jesus Christ Superstar. You probably now know this song under the title "I Don't Know How to Love Him." I'll never listen to the song the same way again.

The night wore on for just a little while after that. They gathered everyone who was still there and announced that there was cake. The speaker motioned her hand toward the row of cakes on a row of tables. Each cake featured Tim's musicals on them in bright colors. We all turned to look at the sweaty fat chef who looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion on the buttercream.

Then V met her idol, the guy who was in Lestat the Musical. I took a cute picture from my cute cell phone of them together and then decided to leave. It was an interesting evening, really fun, kind of intimidating. Tim Rice certainly knows how to write a good lyric.