LIVE MUSIC IS BACK

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (12-16-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     I might have mentioned this before, but I'm a volunteer usher at the Tarrytown Music Hall. It's a really fun gig where you can take in some great shows and help a non-profit organization service the community. Try it yourself! You'll attend an orientation to learn about the oldest theater in Westchester, and what your duties will be. You'll need to pass a background check, but anything that happens in the foreground is between you, me and the lamppost. Thankfully, you must be vaccinated and wear a mask while you're attending the theater during these contagious times, so we don't all have to sit six feet apart and not breathe very much. I'm looking forward to the day when you can see the sardonic smile under my mask so that you know when I was just kidding.

     The Music Hall was built in 1885 by confection mogul William L. Wallace. It was built in the Queen Anne style, and if you squint your eyes it looks just like her. Wallace was a chocolatier, which I fancy as something of a swashbuckler, with a hat with a feather in it and maybe a sword, a chocolate cigarette dangling from his mouth.

     During the early 1900s the Music Hall was home to extravagant flower shows, where barons of industry living in the "Millionaire's Colony" that was Tarrytown competed against each other in a botanical battleground. We'll never know if Jay Gould's lilies were lilier than John D. Rockefeller's candy tufts, but I wouldn't want to lose to that bunch of pansies that Vanderbilt showed up with.

     It was saved from the wrecking ball in the 1970s by the Ringeisen family, who started a non-profit organization to transform it into a lively music venue. It's an intimate theater, and I've certainly said some things to it that I wouldn't say to just any theater that I didn't have that kind of relationship with. I feel like I could walk around in my bathrobe there, but don't worry, I can never remember where I left my bathrobe.

     As a patron you can become a member of the Music Hall, and get the first crack at tickets and other neat perks. Even a drink and a candy bar brought to you in your seat, and I would be honored to serve you. Last week I was a glorified waitress, and I enjoyed every minute of it because I got to interact with the guests a little and thank them for supporting the theater. I say waitress because as long as I'm glorifying myself I could always use a new pair of Louboutins.

     Sometimes people try to breeze right past me to the balcony, they figure they know the alphabet and how to count. I envy those skills certainly, but what they don't know is how weirdly the seats are numbered. Plus, sometimes the seat numbers are on your right armrest, sometimes your left. If you didn't make it to calculus in high school you'd better let me show you to your seat. I can do it quickly and efficiently, but I wasn't always a seasoned veteran....

     I had to find the right flashlight first. The flashlight isn't just a light source to an usher, it's a means of expression. I can say more with my flashlight than I can in a 900-word column, and it would have saved us all some time if I did that right now. I started out with a flashlight that had 5 illumination modes: 1.) Dim beam, for seeing at things by mistake that you don't really give a crap about. 2.) Slightly brighter, for things your wife tells you to look for but you aren't really interested in finding; low-calorie desserts, spiders and the remote control (when a perfectly good James Bond movie is already on) would fall into that category. 3.) High beam, for shining out the back of your car when someone is following you too closely with his brights on. 4.) Slow-distress-signal mode, which flashes at a leisurely rate when you're not in a huge hurry to be rescued. Being held against your will at a gentleman's club is a good example. 5.) Fast-distress-signal mode, which frantically lets anyone and everyone know that they ran out of beer at the gentleman's club. When I finally had the right flashlight setting I still couldn't make out the numbers on your ticket because I couldn't find my glasses. But they were resting on top of my head, and once I woke them up I got you to your seat without any further ado.

     I'm all sorted out now, so take a look at the schedule and get some tickets for you and your date or your kids. Until then, aisle be seating you in all the old, familiar places. Enjoy the show!