When you ask most people what they consider their proudest moment, they might say something like, “The day I got married,” or “The day my first child was born,” or “When I graduated from college.” Etc. For me it was the day I got to teach Northern California how we do things back in little old Nebraska.
When I was in high school, my bestest goodest buddy, Greg was a fan of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. He had been to it maybe twice. I had not seen it. I had seen it advertised as the Friday and Saturday midnight movie at the Admiral Theatre for years. I really had no Idea what it was.
If you don’t know, The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a Science Fiction Musical Satire of cheesy Sci-Fi movies from the early to mid 1900s. The story is told from the point of view of an innocent young couple Brad Majors (ASSHOLE!, Major Asshole, to you) and Janet Weiss (SSSSSSSS). They are recently engaged and are on their way to visit their old Science Teacher (Great Scott!) to tell him the news, when a flat tire on a dead end road on a rainy night changes their plan. They run into a transvestite, Dr Frankenstein character from another planet (Transsexual) in another galaxy (Transylvania) who takes them in and um, liberates them.
As excellent as the plot sounds, the real reason people went to see this movie was to yell and throw stuff. When Greg and I started going to see the movie, we were pretty primitive. The only thing we yelled was “Fuck her, I did!” when Janet discovers Rocky weeping in his aquarium in his gold lamé undershorts.
But as the months went on, we became true craftsmen. Thinking about ways to creatively add to the RHPS experience. Once, Greg and I constructed a cardboard plaque with a drawing of a mouth full of teeth on one side and a nice long neck drawn on the other. This turned out to be one of the awesome-est things ever. When we were being frisked at the front door to make sure everything was kosher, the kid asked about the plaque. We showed him the neck and told him what it was for. He nodded approvingly and said (I’m not kidding) “What about the teeth?” He just about fell over laughing when we showed him the other side.
So yeah, normally, you needed toilet paper, newspaper, toast and a spray bottle of water if you wanted to go the equipment route. We just had the plaque. But I’m not here to talk about the plaque.
After a couple of years of fairly regular attendance, we were officially RHPS experts. At least that’s what we thought. We knew every line (in Omaha). I knew the whole script. I knew all the songs (including the ones not on the Soundtrack album). I knew the Roxy Theatre version of all the songs. I had the picture disc. Etc. etc. But still, there were plenty of blank spots in the movie where you could actually hear some of the dialogue. No one had an answer for a good 20 percent of the film. At least not in Omaha.
So one Halloween night in Palo Alto California – I went to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show. It was either that or go see "The Cure" live in concert. I know. I should’ve seen "The Cure", but then the proudest moment of my life might be something I'm less proud of than what I'm about to describe.
My plan was to show these California people that I knew as much about this movie as any of them. I was so wrong. This was 30 miles from San Francisco. I’m going to teach them about Sci-Fi transvestite movies? Whatever. Hey, I was a dumb kid.
In Palo Alto, on Halloween, there was no dead air through the whole movie. I could not yell a word in edgewise. People were yelling hilarious stuff all the way through. It was amazing. Most of it was completely new to me. My tired old lines sucked compared to theirs. But I just yelled mine anyway. It was still fun. And with so many people yelling, no one could know for sure who the guy was, yelling the lame lines from the 70’s.
Then it happened. Totally unexpected. Much like when you’re telling a friend about your embarrassing rash in a noisy bar just as the really loud cover band abruptly ends their song. I could not hear what was being said in the movie, but I knew my cue without having to hear it. Dr. Frankenfurter says: “ …and you shall receive it. In abundance!”
So before I realize what is happening - as I’m yelling *my line at the top of my lungs, it gets real quiet. I’m the only person yelling – and it’s the only time there was only one person yelling. Yes! There is a dead spot in Rocky Horror Picture Show in Palo Alto on Halloween! And I just fixed it. There you go Northern California. You’re welcome.
Me: Hey Franky, what’s your favorite high protein drink?
Dr. Frank N Furter: Come. We are ready for the floor show!
Uproarious laughter. Joy from freaks in California all around. People moving back into the seats near me. Admiration from the real pros. At last. The 2 seconds of the movie not filled with screaming fans will soon be but a memory. I couldn’t believe it. How do you not do something with “come”? Seriously Northern California, I thought you were better than that.
Anyway. That was the proudest moment of my life. And my dad’s. Oh yeah, he wasn’t so thrilled about my obsession with the transvestite movie. Don’t dream it, Dad. Be it.
*The line was not my invention. I believe it was Charles Cox who penned it. At least that’s who I heard it from. Of course that name might be wrong, too. Anyway – this Charles guy forgot more about RHPS than I ever knew. He also told me that Princess Leah was Luke's Sister about 2 minutes after Yoda said "No, there is another." Of course I didn't believe him. Everyone knew Yoda was talking about Lando Calrissian. But they kissed! we protested. Anyway. He was right about that too.
4 comments:
My only proud moment of being "in the band of a musical" was doing the Rocky Horror Picture Show. When I first got into cycling, most guys looked at me real weird when I told them I was in musicals, to which I quickly added the above line to clarify I wasn't prancing around on stage.
You came to see our show, right? Was it earlier on, in the small theater, or later when we did the not so fun version at the Orpheum? That was so long ago, I can't remember.
Those were good times and that is indeed a great show.
Wait - cycling guys. Guys who shave their legs and throw fits like little girls when things don't go their way. They give you weird looks.
Jill and I saw the Orpheum version, yes. It was pretty good. The only problem with it was the hired hecklers. That wasn't really the place to experience "Audience participation". It really only works in the movie theatre as far as I'm concerned. I should post about the time a friend of mine and I went to see it at Westroads after the Admiral closed ...
Ah, dang it. Wish you could've seen the small theater version. I think the place could only hold 50-70 people - in semi-circle formation around the stage with us (the band) on the balcony above. It was really close quarters, which was fun. The best part was the actors responding to all the audience participation.
There were professional RHPSers from Kansas City that drove up almost every weekend to see our show. Crazy.
I honestly was frightened when I saw this movie. All the people seemed to already know the script. Now and I know why - they had seen it dozens of times. The theater had huge velvet curtains up the walls and I was concerned that all those people with open flames would catch the place on fire. Thanks for jogging my memory. W.C.C.
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