My Peter Pan Birthday Party

Astute readers of this blog know that The Pony has long been known as a hater of kiddie birthday parties. So it seemed particularly ironic (a la a black fly in one's Chardonnay) that Yours Truly was the lucky winner of a birthday party contest on The Loop.

I gloated about my win. The party was being offered by It's My Party, which then went out of business. It was later taken over by their partner, Applause. Applause runs Broadway Babies and Broadway Superstars, which offer classes and parties built around popular musicals, including High School Musical, Annie, The Sound of Music, and Grease.

Oh, this kind of twee gaiety would be ripe for my pen! Boy, was I going to slag these people! But then, a moral dilemma: How could I possibly be snarky about some nice folks who were offering me a free birthday party? How could I be the meanie that I am accustomed to being?

I went down to chat with the Applause folks and plan my party. When I arrived, a bunch of wee babes were experiencing a Broadway Babies class. The drooling infants were being serenaded by a lovely young blonde in full makeup and a buff, steel-jawed actor who looked very freshly bathed. The woman who ran the place was all smiles and excitement: "We just can't WAIT to have your party!" They were so earnest, so Broadway! I expected a chorus line of Zac Efron lookalikes, all abundantly gay and wearing mascara.

I had, in fact, been offered High School Musical as a theme, but I decided that was too, too much for my five-year-old boy, who doesn't know Sharpay from a Shi'Tzu. Instead, I chose Peter Pan. Flying! Pirates! Lost boys! Crocodiles! How could it go wrong?

Oh, I wish I could say that the party had scarred me, my children, and all their friends for life. But no, dear readers. The party was an absolute delight. The three young performers, all actors from NYC, sang, danced, and engaged the children with songs from the Peter Pan Broadway musical. Before the party even started, my two boys were dancing madly to a CD of tunes from The Lion King, The Little Mermaid, and other fodder that makes my husband cringe and gnash his teeth.

A young woman played Peter Pan, and she whispered to some children early on that Captain Hook was terrified by the sound "Tick tock." The children went wild over this, and proceeded to attack the actor playing Captain Hook with a delighted frenzy (After har-harring and fleeing the scene repeatedly, he wound up at the bottom of a pig pile after being pelted with beach balls to the head. I suspect his "My Career Sux" blog will read more rudely than mine will). Wendy, in a white nightgown, backed up Peter at every turn.

From the start the children were transfixed and thrilled. They loved every moment of the show, and you could see it on their faces. Gosh, it even warmed our cold and prickly hearts to see them all leaping about the room with shiny pom-poms to the tune of "I Can Fly." My almost 6-month-old infant nearly flailed right out of his diaper in an effort to join the festivities.

After the show, they served pizza (Sals, overrated as it is) and juice boxes to the kids, and then a giant cake with my son's face embossed on its chocolatety surface. He laughed most uproariously when he saw himself on the cake. Then the kids all walked the plank, shouted out their names, and received goodie bags.

I confess that at times during the show I wanted to be a part of it all. Performer! Birthday guest! It didn't matter. Everyone was made to feel welcome and it was just a lot of gosh-durned fun. I batted a ball toward the ceiling and popped bubbles with my infant's toe. I found myself smiling with glee. Aw, ain't life sweet? And I'm old and withered, too!

The cost for all this hilarity? The party that I won would have run us a nice four figures. Plus tips for the performers. I can fly, indeed! Because I'm on crack! Well, if you have the dollars floating around, it's pretty swell.

Note: Send someone up the street for a box of Dunkin Donuts coffee. The caffeine makes the party extry-special.

Photo Credit: Cristina Costa-Cerone

The Jets and the Sharks

Rather than leave matters to fate, we have decided to take prophylactic action when it comes to the sale of our home. To that end, we have hired a troupe of out-of-work actors to stage a few discreet arguments on our street--just to add some color and verve to the neighborhood, without going over the top. But rather than have them trade fisticuffs like common urban offal, we've instructed them to get into heated discussions about literature, politics, and the theatre.

Fights around here are classy matters indeed! Sometimes the actors stand around sipping sherry, debating the merits of Ayn Rand and dissecting modern poetry. They know an awful lot about turn-of-the-century architecture and make extensive and audible commentary, such as, "Look at that Gambrel roof--what a beaut!" and "This house is as solid as when she was built, and they built 'em right in those days!" We pay them handsomely.

But lest the prospective buyers become too suspicious at the apparent lack of physical altercations in the neighborhood, a dose of Broadway may be just what the East End is missing. We don't want anyone saying, "It's just too durned quiet around here. Suspiciously quiet!"

Just this very weekend, the actors (after much sweat and rehearsal) staged a full-fledged theatrical production of West Side Story on our lawn, with Shuffles cast in the role of Maria. (Hence the grocery bagger you've noticed at Stop 'n' Shop who keeps insisting that "she feels pretty.") As the Jets and the Sharks dueled in a complex, choreographed ballet, realtors and clients streamed in to view our home. The dancing and the general excitement resulted in unprecedented showings!

"Does this happen often around here?" asked one client.

"Every day!" affirmed one of the actors playing a Jet, as he leapt from our front porch and began to Mambo fiercely with a female relative of a Shark.

Unfortunately, while the performance was underway some of the "real" residents of our neighborhood came out and stared, mouths agape, as if this sort of activity did not happen every day.

"Is dat guy wearing toights?" said one of the locals.

"Yeah, he must be one of them homersexuals!" shrieked an old, toothless fellow who hasn't left his front porch in 50 years.

After the locals beat the actors with bats and bricks and the helicopters began circling, the scene became less than appealing. We have now instructed a new group of actors to choose something less riot-inciting, such as No, No, Nanette or Thoroughly Modern Millie. Something with short skirts and a zippy sense of style! Shuffles will no doubt be practicing for her audition in the fruit aisle.

New Broadway Musicals Adapted From Books

Who said it couldn't be done? All it takes is vision, people! And Broadway has it.

Plato’s Dialogues
Socrates and the rest of the gang talk for a while. Then watch the high-stepping fun as they join in an all-male chorus line!

Hiroshima!
In this delightful look back at history, a comic trio of badly-burnt men dance and sing their way through rubble as they search for their lost relatives. A complicated love triangle between two of the men and a mutant, three-legged dog named Mister Buttons will have the audience in stitches.

The National Audubon Society’s First Field Guide to Reptiles
When a hapless frog from the wrong side of the tracks falls in love with a skink, his bumbling attempts to win her heart lead to his being devoured by a posse of Komodo Dragons.

Deliverance
Hilarious hijinks in the South. That weird albino kid is in it, too. Only he's now about 49 years old and really fat.

Living With a Chronic Condition
Watch for the moment when the ED, Herpes, and Incontinence chorus lines come together into one smashing, expertly choreographed "turn, turn, kick turn" routine. But bring the crying towels, too--Britney Spears' diva turn as "Irritable Bowel Syndrome" will reduce the hardest-hearted theatergoer to tears. Who says her career is washed up?

The King James Bible
"He begat, she begat, they begat, oooh..." I can't get that one out of my head. The tunes are irresistible, although the 748-hour running time of this epic musical extravaganza will leave some less-than-pious members of the audience crabby.

Who Moved My Cheese?
In this noir thriller, the “three-quel” to “Where Are My Teeth?” and “What Have You Done With the Casserole?”, the audience is encouraged to participate in solving the mystery. Predictably, the scatological ending mirrors those of its predecessors.

Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child
A bunch of crying infants are put down for their naps by a leading sleep researcher. Some of the infants continue to cry loudly. Others fall asleep. Meanwhile, the researchers sing, dance, and chastise any parents in the audience about what they ought to be doing to instill healthy sleep habits.

The Secret
I don't know what this crap is all about, but it's even worse set to music.