Entertaining and well-produced (the sound system was upgraded from last year’s show and the change was telling, particularly in the back of the room), the Follies were judged “excellent” by the cognoscenti at the Providence Phoenix table. Could there be any higher praise?
Meanwhile, there was much comment about how the governor was not in attendance. For details, see the story in This just in.
Zulus on parade
P&J were delighted to celebrate the N’Awlins Mardi Gras this year, with all the “krewes” out in force. It put a bit of Cissy Strut (thank you, the Meters) back in everyone’s stride in the Big Easy as we marched through the day on Fat Tuesday here in the Biggest Little with our gold, purple and green beads on display.
We are elated to report that our friends in N.O., the Zekes, managed to make it on to the float of the legendary Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club. To refute Groucho Marx, this is a club to which we would love to belong, but for which we would have to become honorary persons of color. (Well, we do have rhythm.)
Sadly, this reveals the lasting devastation from Hurricane Katrina. The Zekes were able to ride on the traditionally all-black Zulus’ float only because so many African-American New Orleans residents remain displaced. Even more ethereal was how the Zekes, a good Jewish boy from Brooklyn, and his wife, a blonde, alabaster-skinned New Orleans’ native, had to get tricked out in blackface for the parade. While less than politically correct, this showed the tremendous — dare we say it? — “black” humor that was a feature of this year’s celebrations, including enormous faux refrigerators (landmarks of the post-Katrina wreckage) and countless well-directed cheap shots at the inept officials who turned a disaster into a horror show beyond belief. You’re doing a hell of a job, Brownie.
Iko-Iko. Sleep tight, Ernie K-Doe and Big Chief Jolley.
Don, Dennis, and Darren
Anyone named David, Dean or who has any other name starting with a “D” should run for cover after last week, when Don Knotts, Dennis Weaver, and Darren McGavin all turned their toes up.
Knotts made himself famous playing the neurotic deputy sheriff Barney Fife on The Andy Griffith Show. Your superior correspondents would argue that his skits in the “Man in the Street” segment on the cutting-edge The Steve Allen Show of the 1950s were some of his greatest hits. Still, his forever trembling, stuttering wide-eyed innocent was a signature, and he gave us all a treat.
Dennis Weaver, who won two Emmys playing a New Mexico deputy marshal who got sent to New York City, was more familiar to us as Chester, the limping deputy to Marshal Matt Dillon (James Arness) on Gunsmoke. Phillipe recalls being baby-sat by his grandmother on Saturday nights, being tucked in just before his parents went out, only to be summoned down after they left to watch Have Gun, Will Travel, prior to Gunsmoke, with Richard Boone as Paladin
