Last evening David and I had a date at the Steve Allen Theater, to see Janet Klein and Her Parlor Boys, a truly original vaudeville type performance. I picked him up at work, David works in the Taft Building on Hollywood and Vine.
Then we drove to the Steve Allen Theater, wich turns out to be just around the corner from the Dresden. (Moriah, if you come visit we'll go to the Lounge and have a good Swingers time...)
We wandered the neighborhood a while, then went to see the show. We got in line, and were the youngest people there. All about me, old-timers, prooving David and I are prematurely old, that this is our idea of a good time. But it WAS a good time, this theater is some kind of old-people hangout, but it's really cool.
First there was a show of "rare film shorts" by Jerry Beck, which were these great old black and white cartoons from the 20's and 30's. Then the musical performance. I found a great discription on her website to desbribe it: "Bearing an ever-expanding repertoire of, as she puts it, "obscure, lovely and naughty songs from the 1910's , 20's and 30's," Janet Klein is a musical archeologist hiding in the body of an F. Scott Fitzgerald heroine." The parlor boys played piano, accordian, upright bass, cornet, banjo, mandolin, and Janet herself croons with a ukulele. She had a special guest Vincent Cortese who was a Ukulele star, I'd never seen anyone play an instrument like it, or hands move so fast like humming bird wings.
We were having a great time, and then I detected a very certain odor in the air, and asked David to confirm. Yes, someone in the theater wet themself. One of these old-timers had to go and just did. The smell of urine is unmistable, though we tried to convince ourselves maybe it was some bad, sour popcorn, but no one was eating popcorn. I had been suffering the over-airconditioned room with monster goosebumps, but now became thankful for the powerful ventilation. Pee aside, we had a great old-timey time.
Then we drove to the Steve Allen Theater, wich turns out to be just around the corner from the Dresden. (Moriah, if you come visit we'll go to the Lounge and have a good Swingers time...)
We wandered the neighborhood a while, then went to see the show. We got in line, and were the youngest people there. All about me, old-timers, prooving David and I are prematurely old, that this is our idea of a good time. But it WAS a good time, this theater is some kind of old-people hangout, but it's really cool. 
First there was a show of "rare film shorts" by Jerry Beck, which were these great old black and white cartoons from the 20's and 30's. Then the musical performance. I found a great discription on her website to desbribe it: "Bearing an ever-expanding repertoire of, as she puts it, "obscure, lovely and naughty songs from the 1910's , 20's and 30's," Janet Klein is a musical archeologist hiding in the body of an F. Scott Fitzgerald heroine." The parlor boys played piano, accordian, upright bass, cornet, banjo, mandolin, and Janet herself croons with a ukulele. She had a special guest Vincent Cortese who was a Ukulele star, I'd never seen anyone play an instrument like it, or hands move so fast like humming bird wings.
We were having a great time, and then I detected a very certain odor in the air, and asked David to confirm. Yes, someone in the theater wet themself. One of these old-timers had to go and just did. The smell of urine is unmistable, though we tried to convince ourselves maybe it was some bad, sour popcorn, but no one was eating popcorn. I had been suffering the over-airconditioned room with monster goosebumps, but now became thankful for the powerful ventilation. Pee aside, we had a great old-timey time.
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