I can’t say anyone danced in the aisles, but there were plenty of standing cheers, hoots, hollers, and whistles, along with tons of thunderous clapping.
It all happened at The Space, a long, narrow house with a fairly small (raised) stage at the far end. It was hell to find – for me anyway. A trip which should’ve taken me 15 at most ended after 45 minutes of driving around through the back streets immediately west of the Strip. To call my mood foul, by the time I parked and gimped 1/8th of a mile, may be a bit of an understatement.
But, a smile took over the minute Sandy Kastel and Ralph Stalter greeted me as I walked in the front doors. Then Poor Richard’s Players turned the smiles into out-and-out laughter as they opened the evening with a rendition of “Tradition” from “Fiddler on the Roof.” Ben Loewy, Max Lardent, and Anthony Barnaby brought the house down with lyrics spoofing every aspect of production. That alone was worth the price of admission.
If you didn’t go because you didn’t want to sit through long gushings as winners thanked ever