Dear Trudy (and Lancey-poo - the brown devil!),

The Rialto beckoned to yours Trudy - (I mean truly, of course) and haven't I been lucky to get myself comped to glory after glory. (And even if the c-boys are not as lucious as they were when we were younger (sigh!!!) - they can dance up a storm - I digress, but that's hardly unusual)

Today, I simply must share with you the glories of Prince Hal's Showboat (Oooh, sorry Messrs. Kern and Hammerstein). What can I tell you, except to say Mr. P has taken a dinosaur of a show (and leave us face it, Trude, three more years and you could have drilled for oil in it!) and pumped it full of life, imagination and theatrical splendor! Granted, the score is unbeatable, but with the help of Eugene Lee and Susan Stroman, that ten-ton libretto has been trimmed (intelligently) and the beast of the show has been tamed.

Oh, my dear, you should have seen it... From those spectacularly ominous chords, to the last thrilling "Ol' Man River", the first twenty minutes of the show are as good as anything I've ever seen (R.I.P. M. Bennett!). And they incorporated that lovely song from the McGlinn CD - you know the one for Ravenal where he sings to Magnolia's stocking (!). And the staging and set for that one. Well!, My breath came, when it came at all, it tiny gasps. First, R. is above her in his second storey room over hers. (This is on the Showboat, if you remember honey! Is it time to give Lancey a treat?) Anyway, after he sings, the boast collapses on itself and the second half of the song is done on the top deck - above R.'s room. Theatrical gold!

Anyway, from John McMartin's entrance on he commmands the stage with charm and elegance. La Stritch is - well, la Stritch., Funny, bitchy, ever-so... so! Ms Luker and Mr. Jacoby are lovely and manly, respectively, and they sing like golden-throated cherubim. The supporting cast do their labors with admirable grace and the orchestra sounded simply fab... I so wanted you by my side. (My left, of course. My right side was abutted by You-Know-Who!)

It was simply a triumph. The best thing I've seen in years and it makes the works of the Menckens, Lloyd Webbers and (gulp) Sondheims seem weak and incomplete in comparison. (Shall we ever forgive Steve for...?)

I've rambled when I should be direct. Isn't that our relationship in seven words? And I imagine Fuzzy Face needs his constitutional. (Don't we all!?! Get out the leash and let him roam free. He's the best thing to happen to Arizona, well, since you decided to move out to that thoroughly undeserving desert! The Apple rots without you - but you knew that!

I'll give your best to You-Know-Who (his parole officer is so pleasant) and wait till I tell you about How To Suck...

Love and Kisses,

Mr. Jewel