Theater Review: Dangle Bombs on Broadway
George M. Cohan understood how Broadway audiences could be. I considered the possibility that my Sly and Snide Slideshow at the Tank would be too sophisticated for the rubes and it looks like I was right. Jimmy Chuckles was playing the Ha-ha Room, and Wanda Hooper was at Comedy Cellar, what I didn't count on was that I was going directly up against the big finale of American Idol. Kris Allen came from behind to win it all! I just watched two seconds of it on You Tube. Yeah, I can see why AI would be better entertainment for some than an hour of Dangle in perhaps my first and last performance in New York City. I understand, friends, I'm not bitter.
I want to thank the couple dozen hardcore Troubletown fans and old friends who came out to West 45th, and the winos, and the guys who mistook the Tank for Private Eyes Gentleman's Club (I'm sure they were disappointed.) The Tank seats easily 75, it's like a place the Ramones might've played in 1977, and there were plenty of tickets available even if you got there late. It wasn't like my San Francisco events, where the people view Troubletown as a national treasure as important as the Golden Gate Bridge or the soup that comes in a hollowed out loaf, and who pile in till there's standing room only. But those who made it out to see me Tuesday night clapped, and howled, and loved every minute of it. Just read this review.
As Gershwin and Roy Rogers knew, New York is a cruel lover. She'll tease and cajole you and then kick you in the ribs and give you a black eye for your trouble. But when she sings like a lady there's just nothing like her. And that's why we keep coming back for the acrid smell, the harsh glow of the Jumbotron, and, occasionally, the joy on the face of a guy or gal in the back row, for whom the show maybe, just maybe, brought moment of magic to their bleak and unfulfilled lives. That's show-biz, people.