Cartnoon

when the man dances, certainly, boys, what else? The piper pays him!

He’s a music man and he sells clarinets
to the kids in the town with the big trombones
and the rat-a-tat drums, big brass bass, big brass bass,
and the piccolo, the piccolo with uniforms, too
with a shiny gold braid on the coat and a big red stripe runnin’…

Well, I don’t know much about bands but I do know
you can’t make a living selling big trombones, no sir.
Mandolin picks, perhaps and here and there a Jew’s harp…

No, the fellow sells bands, Kids’ bands.
I don’t know how he does it but he lives like a king
and he dallies and he gathers and he plucks and he shines and…

Yes, sir. Yes sir.

Harold Hill was a bit beyond my ability as an artist, though I do a killer Ralph Rackstraw.

Rather a more #MeToo interpretation than I offered but mine was chaste enough. I got the gig not because I was warm for Josephine (which I totally was) but because I was more Tenor than anyone else in the cast. The Captain gets all the good songs and Ralph dances around like a dofus in the chorus. Ugh. Always Herod, never Pilate or Judas or any of the good parts.

Yes, Casanova! I can be charming and whimsical if that’s what you’re looking for though I think I much more resemble Dash Hammett and am enigmatic and inscrutable.

I’m certainly a librarian. Have been since 7th grade. There is nothing at all about that statement which is sexual, I knew Dewey and didn’t much like spending crowded periods staring at a clock in a sweaty classroom because there weren’t (coined 1691) enough teachers to occupy my mind.

Anarchy!

There are all kinds of ways to stage Gilbert and Sullivan. I think I’ll try exploring some.