Rainbow or Bach, that is the question...
Considering all the unsettling news of late, you may not have noticed that I have been charged with a seventh-degree misdemeanor.
Looking back on the sequence of events, I should have expected the citation. To wit: “On or about Saturday, April 27, Defendant Bloom defied Connecticut State Statute 132.09. That is, in Our Land of Steady Habits, where acts of Willful and Intentional Spontaneity threaten the general welfare, he nevertheless changed his plans for the evening at the very last minute by choosing blasphemy over godliness.”
To this charge, I offer here my defense.
The plan for the evening, after all, was one that underscores the richness of New Haven culture. For right here, in the Elm City, a free performance of dozens of talented musicians of a seminal work by a composer generally considered the greatest ever, Johann Sebastian Bach, was to take place at Woolsey Hall.
I had not ever attended a concert of the master’s Mass in B Minor, but was looking forward to escorting my wife to the event. In a sense, it would be part of my effort at personal fulfillment, and in this case learning even more about life, death, and the hereafter. Oh, such joy.
Well, here’s what happened. In the hour prior to event, two friends arrived at the house for pre-concert libations. The husband, whom I will refer to here as Tyler, as that is his name, was planning to go to Woolsey with us.
His wife, whom I will refer to here as Jeannette, as that is her name, was instead intent on returning home to watch a rom-com on TV. As I am sure you would agree, nothing at this point smacked of criminality.
But then, New Haven being what it is – the entertainment capital of Connecticut – a conundrum occurred for two of the people who, recognizing the onset of spring, were drinking gin and tonics with star anise.
I happened to mention that two performances downtown were scheduled for the same hour, 7:30 p.m. One was the Bach, and the other the first appearance in our city by the curiously famous political satirist, Randy Rainbow, at the Shubert.
“Let’s see,” I thought, “which will make for a more fun-filled evening?”
When I mentioned the conflict to my wife, whom I will refer to here as Suzanne, as that is her name, she scoffed. “I don’t think he is funny.”
I said, “Well, it’s not just opinion that he is funny, but it’s a fact.”
“Ah,” she responded. “Maybe an alternative fact.”
So, in a surprising turn of events, the people I refer to as Tyler and Suzanne went to Bach, and Jeannette and I went rogue in the Land of Steady Habits.
We presumed that the box office personnel at the Shubert would not faint when confronted by two members of the public hoping for to buy tickets just prior to the performance.
Indeed, we scored two ducats in a packed house for “Randy Rainbow for President,” fine seats on the aisle in Row M of the orchestra, for a total of $123, which, according to my calculations, is $123 more than the Bach concert would have set us back. But, then, there is a price to pay for defending democracy.
While Jeannette and I waited in line to enter the theater, I saw an old friend, whom I will refer to here as Maryanne, as that is her name. “Ah, out tonight with another woman?” she said, as she one of our city’s most astute observers.
What followed during the next 100 minutes or so was a kind of religious experience that can only be enjoyed by people who hold contempt, as I do, for the presidential candidate mentioned above, whom Rainbow refers to, perhaps incorrectly, as “Donald Jessica Trump.”
This was catnip for those who agree with Randy Rainbow, which is, oddly, his real name, that we have seen the political and societal landscape change from “the era of Mary Tyler Moore to that of Marjorie Taylor Moron.”
Dressed in spangled suits, the featured performer and candidate whose name will appear, let’s see, on zero state ballots, unveiled his campaign slogan: “Make America Gay Again.”
And accompanied by a pianist, bassist, and drummer, he rifled through his greatest social media performances, including swiped Broadway melodies with lyrics tailored to properly insult the former president and his circle. Typical was his re-working of the title song of “Beauty and the Beast,” with photos displayed of Rudy Giuliani and Trump, as “Giuly and the Beast.”
The evening featured the show’s title song, “Randy Rainbow for President!” and his candidacy was announced in this video.
Rainbow had a natural rapport with the audience. At one point he asked a woman in the front row, “Where are you from?” When she began to answer, he cut her off: “I don’t care.”
And after the finale, he left the stage to, of course, a standing ovation, as he shouted, “Thank you, Connecticutians!”
Later, in the men’s restroom, I asked two fellows waiting for their respective urinals, “So, what did you think?” One said, “I think there ought to be a law against laughter.” I didn’t mention there may be one already on the books.
After we fetched Jeannette’s car from a parking garage, we decided to get the prescribed meal for friends who attend the “Bach’s Mass in B Minor” and those who opt for “Randy Rainbow for President,” which of course is composed of two pies from Modern Apizza.
Once back at home, we all compared notes as we devoured the clams, bacon and “mooz,” recognizing that, to further complicate our legal status, we were doing this during Passover.
My wife, whom I still refer to as Suzanne, glowed about the Bach, assessing the performance as “magnificent,” yet had to admit it wasn’t particularly humorous.
And with what remained of our original gin and tonics, we raised a toast, if furtively, to the promises of a joyous spontaneous spring.
As for the charge against me, it was dropped after I threatened to sing Rainbow’s songs at the trial.
Lary Bloom photo
A quartet of Shubert patrons sporting Randy Rainbow merch: pink eyeglasses.