DIRTY ROTTEN SAN BERNARDINO, CA

...and dirty and rotten it is. We were warned that San B. was not the most hospitable of cities, but we weren't prepared for just how.....well, ...sketchy the city is. We are staying at a Hilton, with a pool, which is a good thing because the weather is scorching hot and there is virtually nothing to do here. The drive from the hotel to the theatre reveals a Bail Bonds office in every block, some of them advertising that they have an office conveniently located directly across from the jail. We are warned not to walk alone in the vicinity of the theatre at night, or around the hotel for that matter. (One of the "Oliver" cast was robbed at gunpoint not too far from our Hilton). There is a grocery store across the street from the theatre (where the boys witness an altercation that comes close to a knife fight one afternoon). I discover that they carry liquor, but I also discover that the security procedures needed to actually get it into my hands are not unlike trying to open a Swiss bank account. Duff visits the mall near the theatre (another place we are warned not to go) and says it's like the set of a horror movie, with most stores closed or closing, the whole place dominated by a dis-used, old merry-go-round. Oh, and did I mention that San Bernardino holds the dubious distinction of being where McDonald's started? Ray Croc's very first hamburger stand was right here.

The theatre is another one of those old vaudeville houses with a proscenium arch right out of The Muppet Show. There's even premium gold boxes at the edge of the balcony for Statler and Waldorf. But this also means that, once again, we've cut many pieces of the show, not as bad as an arena show, but still a pain. Also a pain is the fact that the wing space is so small that one is constantly bumping into someone trying to maneuver around the set pieces. The local crew has gotten very comfortable working the space though, so much so that they have forgotten how close they are to us when we're doing a scene on stage, so we are treated to their full-voice conversations the entire time. (They are, in fact, so loud that our bass player tells me that our mics were actually picking up their voices and broadcasting them directly into his headphones.)

The unseasonable heat is pushing the A/C capacity of the old building to the limit. Well, depending where you are. On the side of the stage that my dressing room is on, our little rabbit-warren of closet-sized rooms is sweltering. On the other side of the stage, the ensemble girls are so cold they have to keep a window open to let some heat in. We are not alone in suffering the heat. Every performance, I can see the waving of stark, white programs out in the darkness. The scene that K.K. and I do in our extra-plush terry-towel bath robes is a particular treat. A bit like putting on a parka to work in the garden in August....in Niagara.

The first night audience is absolutely rabid. (They do a lot of hooting in San B.) We could have walked onto the stage and carved a notch in a stick of wood and they would have screamed and applauded like asylum inmates. We play most of the shows to very full crowds, except for Sunday night. Mike Donald remarks that if all the Sunday night people had come for the matinee, we could have had a full house. Though it isn't really quite that small a crowd (700) it feels like it, especially when we are staggering under the heat. We are happy to finish up.

The morning is an easy start since we don't roll until 10. Cast and crew are milling about, drinking coffee, eating bagels, enjoying the California sun. We have a full day of driving to the cute little city of Sacramento, where we will spend the night. Then on further north (almost to Oregon) to Redding, CA for our next performance.