THE COMEDIAN AND HIS MUSE (continued)<br/><br/>I'm taking my bow..., at freakin' Dion's!  Dion's, the legendary club of many performers' dreams!  I'm sure that I've just performed for at least three gods, plus a nymph, tonight.  Why are there gods here?  I can only guess that they need a hobby and time away from Olympus.  I'm only glad that they're here.  I start to get misty-eyed and I do my best to hold back my happy tears.<br/><br/>A thought crosses my mind that while Thalia is absolutely the Goddess of Comedy, if anyone believed me I could truthfully bill myself as: 'Toby Turner, Comedian to the Gods!'   A sentiment right up there with 'Wile E. Coyote, Super Genius!'  Well, if you're a fan of classic Warner Bros. cartoons, then you know that old Wile E. doesn't realize what's happening until it's too late.<br/><br/>I know her voice.  I have never heard Thalia shout over an applauding crowd before, but I recognize her voice and I know that she's the instigator.  Thalia shouts, "Encore!" and soon the entire audience has taken up the call for an encore.  For a moment, I don't know what to do.  I look back towards the bar and I can see Dion, smiling.  He unmistakably  gestures his approval as well as an invitation to continue.  Now I know what I want inscribed on my tombstone:  'He got an encore at Dion's'.  I wipe the tears from my eyes.<br/><br/>I see the band that was on this very stage earlier.  They're on the wings and they are all smiles, too.  The pianist and the singer both smile broadly, nod their heads affirmatively and motion me to remain on the stage.  I bow my acceptance of their generosity and face the audience once more.  The audience applauds and I'm on again.  I'm not going to let them down!<br/><br/>"You are all so lovely," I tell them.  "Thank you."  It becomes quiet and they are ready for me to speak again.<br/><br/>"There is no denying that this is a very special place," I start.  "The restaurant upstairs and the lounge down here have an air of class.  Also, there's a feeling of 'Old World' charm that you don't see a lot of in the United States.  While I might not mention this in an American bar or college auditorium, I will seriously tell you that I am a big fan of opera and ballet, and that you would probably understand why."<br/><br/>"Not your typical Americans, now don't speak ill of them, because they have their reasons for not being big opera and ballet fans," I say.  "Many Americans work very very hard to provide their children a greater standard of living than they had and this line of thinking is passed down to each succeeding generation.  It's a glorious congenital condition in them.  Lots and lots of work plus lots of work trying to keep a government from taking their earnings because the government thinks that it knows how to spend your money better than you do."  This gets some small laughs from the people who know politics and the people who have lived long enough to notice.  This was a little dangerous, but I love my country, even with all it's warts.<br/><br/>"But back to opera and ballet," I say in brighter and happier tones.  "Stereo-typically, in America, it's a classic bit that when a girlfriend or wife wishes their boyfriend or husband to take them to an opera or ballet, the boyfriend or the husband will experience the feeling of a fox, gnawing off his own leg because it's been trapped."  I look to my right and in an approximation of a feminine voice I say, "Honey, can we go to the opera tonight?"  I look to my left as if I'm the fearful man who's just heard this request and I hold my wrist up to my mouth and make desperate frightened gnawing sounds, "Rahr rahr rahr rahr!"  The room laughs, laughs hard.  I'm back on track.<br/><br/>"The vast majority of operas and ballets are from pre-world war two Europe and have names in languages the average English speaking American man has to do a computer reference to understand.  There's a prejudice in his mind right there!  The average man wants to have a clear idea about the show that he's going to pay to much money to see.  Have you seen the prices?!?!"  More laughter and applause.  These are not the same kind of laughs from the first story, but this is fine because I know that I have their undivided attention.<br/><br/>"I'm not saying that the top opera singers and ballet dancers don't deserve their pay, but please folks, couldn't they set up some kind of minor league, like professional baseball?"  Shift to a kind of radio announcer voice, "... and now, singing tenor for the Cucamonga Castrati, Martin Albert Smith!"  In my regular voice, I raise my fist up and make a circular motion as I cheer the made up singer, "Whoop!  Whoop!  Yay!  Smith!"  Anyone that wasn't busting a gut laughing at 'Cucamonga Castrati' is now doubled over at my cheering for a make believe singer like they were a professional athlete.<br/><br/>"Probably the biggest problems with operas and ballets are their names," I continue.  "The names just don't generate a lot of excitement with blue collar types.  Opera names like:  The Love of Three Oranges?  The Marriage of Figaro?  Madama Butterfly?  Ballet names like:  La Boutique Fantastique?  The Benevolent Cupid?  Appalachian Spring?"  The crowd nods its understanding.  "All of them magnificent works of the performing arts, but hardly any desire sparked among the unfamiliar."<br/><br/>I let my voice become a little more serious, "Let me make an aside here for all the single men and some advice for all of the fathers of single men to pass on to their sons...."  The room momentarily goes quiet in expectation of sage advice.  "If you ever, EVER, meet a woman whose favorite subject matter is 'Romeo and Juliet', then Run!  Run like the hounds of Hell are right behind you!"  The hounds of Hell would easily catch me as I pretend to run away form them and the audiece is howling with laughter.  Maybe at my words or my pantomime of running, but I don't care.  "Romeo and Juliet is a Bad Sign!  The same goes for West Side Story and any story where the lovers kill themselves rather than go on living without the other."  I up my voice volume and energy, pleadingly I tell them, "These aren't Great Romances!  They are Great Tragedies!  Run!  Run!  Save yourself before it's too late!"  I wave for the survivors to flee.  I pretend to fall under the weight of my pursuers as I try to defend myself.  The laughs keep rolling in and I feel so alive!<br/><br/>Getting up, I smooth my hair back with my free hand and address the audience again, "But back to opera and ballet.  I think that I've laid out the case that no matter how beautifully and soulfully an opera might be sung, no matter how gracefully and powerfully a ballet might be danced, the subject matter and title are fatal flaws in the mind of the blue collar man.  Ladies, you might persuade your man to take a chance on an opera with a title like, 'The Magic Flute'.  More than likely, any interest engendered by the word 'magic' will be lost at the word, 'flute', unless he thinks it's a code word for something naughty."  The women and men are laughing together because they know this to be true.  I eat it up.<br/><br/>"Fear not, patrons of the performing arts!" I tell them, "I have a solution!  Write operas and ballets with titles that appeal to his manly and adventurous tastes.  It's so simple.  For an opera, how could you stop a guy from wanting to see," I use my big announcer voice and gesture like there's a theater marquee, "STAR WARS, THE OPERA!"  There's some laughing and some clapping.  They find it funny but they also want to see where I'm going.  That's okay, this is just the set up.<br/><br/>"We begin long ago in some area of space that's copyrighted and now owned by the Disney company,' I start and and greeted with some good laughs.  "Here's Luke Skywalker, a young man, probably singing in falsetto," and I borrow from Bohemian Rhapsody and in falsetto I sing,<i>"'I'm just a farm-boy, no-body loves me!'" </i>The laughter just booms.  A few people that were trying to sip and swallow their drinks are laughing and choking until they get a hold of themselves.  When the laughing is less loud I  continue, "As Luke progresses, his voice shifts to that of a heroic tenor," and I borrow from the old Mighty Mouse cartoons and sing in a very heroic tone,<i>"'Here I come to save the daayyy!'"  </i>This gets good laughter, but here comes the punch.  "And then," I say ominously, "comes the confrontation with Darth Vader, a mighty bass-baritone...."  I do an impression of Vader's heavy breathing into the mic.  Then I borrow from The Ride of the Valkyries and sing in a deep voice,<i>"'No! Luke, I Am Your Fa-ther!' (Luke, 'No!')   <i>'I Am Your Fa-ther! (Luke 'No!')  I AM YOUR FA-THER!  (Luke 'NO!') </i>I AM YOUR DAD!'"  <br/>
</i><br/>Dion's Lounge is wall to wall gut-busting laughter.  This story isn't like my first one, with lots of little twists, but when it hits, it HITS.  I have to wait a bit and I take a couple of bows for that line until the laughter quiets down.<br/><br/>"To Ballet," I begin. "If you're a guy, unless you're a big fan of Duck Dynasty and the Robertson clan, chances are that hearing the words, 'Swan Lake', is not going to sound terribly interesting."  More chuckling, that's okay, there are some funny incidental words but this is just another set-up and I continue, "Also, what guy wants to pay to see something called, 'The Nutcracker'?"  I love their laughter so much and there's so much of it.  I see some people laughing and nodding over by the bar and point in their direction.  I get their attention and I pretend that I have a telephone.  I mouth the words,<i>call me!  </i>I wink.  I see Thalia.  She's laughing very heartily in the front and I blow her a kiss.<br/><br/>"Continuing," I continue, "American composer Aaron Copeland wrote the music for the ballets, 'Rodeo' and 'Billy the Kid'.  I LOVE westerns!  I and my fellow culturally underexposed men will pay good money to see a story that we understand!"  I've made a connection and the crowd gives approving applause.  Now I'm going to build up to the last punch line of the story.<br/><br/>"So, my idea for ballets that guys would want to see?" I tell them, "Two words" and after a brief pause, I say, "James Bond!"  There are some appreciative hoots, hollers and claps from the crowd.  Going on, I tell them, "When I was growing up, every guy wanted to be James Bond, well, except for the guys that wanted to be 'Bond Girls'."  More laughs.   "All the girls wanted to be 'Bond Girls' because Bond had such animal magnetism.  The Bond Girls often had titillating names like Honey Rider, Mary Goodnight, Chu Me, and Holly Goodhead."  The laughs and chuckles accent each name as I say them.<br/><br/>Here's the wind-up, "So the ballet that I think every blue-collar man will want to see:" I again use the big announcer voice and a slow wave at the invisible marquee, "Ian Flemming's James Bond, Agent Double-Oh-Seven in 'Goldfinger, The Ballet and featuring'" just a little pause for effect, "'Pussy Galore!'".<br/><br/>Once again, the room figuratively explodes in laughter!  I smile and just drink it in as if it were wine to a man dying of thirst!  I let it go on and on as I keep bowing and smiling.  What a great night!  A night like no other.<br/><br/>I find that I'm really sweating.  I never expected the first five minutes on Dion's stage, let alone another five minutes after that.  I really put my body and soul into those two bits and they were some of my best work.  I have more, but I don't think I can keep my energy up enough to maintain this level of a performance....<br/><br/>(to be continued....)