Oh, the good old days when headbands were cool and hand-sewing sequins and homemade, felt decorations onto an old leotard seemed like the right thing to do. That snazzy bunch is me (the blonde standing center), my sis, and my neighborhood pals gearing up for an impromptu performance (circa early 1970s). How our humble Katherine Street generated so many groovy dance devotees is a wonder. Back then we didn’t worry about whether or not we had the money, whether or not we had the talent, or whether or not there was a market for it. We wanted to put on a show, and the idea of obstacles or anyone or anything stopping us never entered our minds. We made do with what we had. And what we had was always enough.
Enjoy this excerpt from
by Kristi Lynn Davis
Dancing with Josie got the disco ball rolling, but two musicals during that first year really rocked my world and sent me flying into theatrical heaven. The first was a high school production of Godspell. The inspiring songs and dances captivated me. The second was the movie Jesus Christ Superstar. I was haunted by the music and overwhelmed by the emotions stirring within me. The songs seemed to touch the depths of my soul. Perhaps entertainment was worth more than just a laugh with my friends.
Superstar so moved me that, at the ripe old age of nine, I mounted a full-scale production of the musical. I easily recruited the neighborhood girls to be cast members, but the boys were more of a challenge. I tried to coerce a few of my friends’ little brothers by bribing them with cookies, which always worked when we needed a groom to play “Wedding,” but even the party promised after the performance wasn’t incentive enough to get any boys to dance with us. The result was an all-girl cast for a show comprised of mostly men (Jesus and his Twelve Disciples, King Herod, Pontius Pilate). I really wanted to play Jesus but felt guilty giving myself the lead role, so I cast Frieda Snodgrass, who most looked the part and was willing to memorize all the songs and fake-die on the cross at the end. Only Lynnette Bulman, who played Mary Magdalene, got to play a woman. The parents brought their own chairs and sat on our lawn to watch the production held on my front porch. I’m sure the adults were chuckling at us, but I took the show seriously. The cast party we threw at the end was almost as much fun as the show itself.
Entertaining the neighbors was a great start, but I longed for bigger opportunities so I formed the “Katherine Street Supremes” and took our show on the road. We made it as far as a talent show at a popular campground about an hour away. Sporting our old recital costumes, loads of bright pink blush, and powder-blue eye shadow, we boogied to Leo Sayer’s “You Make Me Feel Like Dancin’.” Afterwards, we met some other contestants in the ladies’ room, and they fawned over us and told us how great we were. My fire was fueled. I was getting a rush from all the attention and adulation. I had been bitten by the show biz bug and hungered for more.
What bug have you been bitten by? Let us know in the comments below. If you have a dream, a desire, a pursuit that tickles your fancy, don’t let anything stop you. You have enough. You are enough. Just do it! Thanks for reading. Come back next week for one of my favorite stories of all.
Boogie on,
Kristi
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