How obvious it all is now, but until I spotted the middle-aged man wearing that tie, I didn't consider that I would be among fans.

But then I began to see signs here, there and everywhere: the Rubber Soul t-shirt, and (slightly more obscure) a hippie wearing an om.

The singing was superb. The musical arrangements, less so. The production, alright. The acting, deplorable.

The worst performance was turned in by that all-knowing narrator/stage manager/Troy McClure impersonator, the maître d'hôtel. He shook his sorry head hopelessly at restaurant patrons ruining their lives with bad relationships. He's the patronizing one!

The singing saved the show. The soulful Oh! Darling¹ reached an intensity that I felt Paul intended but contemporary convention prohibited. Alluded to at the very outset, I waited the entire show to hear She's Leaving Home. Bye, bye!

Perceiving how the audience enjoyed the better known songs, I began to wonder whether not all were familiar.

There were one or two² that made me think, "Oh, haven't heard that in a long time."

And since Eleanor Rigby was a character in the show, they refrained from singing the final verse of her musical epitaph, you know, the stanza that describes her passing and burial. I'm glad, really; kept it a family show. Many youngsters Kenny's age attended, to the apparent consternation of the childless adults; the directive "get a babysitter" was personally overheard at least once.

But, ruder words were uttered during intermission by a gentleman who obviously didn't know better, in front of his pre-teen daughters. He remarked to his buddy with his wife that the program didn't have enough pretty young things in skimpy clothes to suit his tastes.

He ejaculated, "Pardon my language, but what the fuck?!" Indeed.

I began to suspect that he might be from Freehold. One doesn't generally encounter such crassness in eastern Monmouth county, on a fancy college campus. Moments later, when he acknowledged the show's producer by name, I knew he was from Freehold! Likely, he never saw more of a college campus in his day than the gridiron.

Eh, he didn't ruin my night but I wasn't interested in socializing with him afterwards either. In fact, the finale couldn't come soon enough. I thought they would end with the beginning, I Want To Hold Your Hand, but as it dragged on for another couple of numbers, I conceded these too merited inclusion.

All for a worthy cause.

¹ I should just watch all the Beatles videos at YouTube.
² If I Fell, Golden Slumbers, Paperback Writer.

References: "I might actually get out to see this ...", October 2007