The Show Must Go On

"The show must go on."

Dad says that.  When disaster strikes.

Two weeks ago in Buffalo, for example.

Ma was putting a braid in my hair while I studied the script.  Dad burst into our dressing room.

"We're changing tonight's show to The Mikado," Dad stated.  "Now hurry up and get the costumes out of the trunk."

"How come?" Ma asked.  "We've been brushing up on Pirates for tonight."

"The theater manager let on that a detective has arrived," Dad answered.  "With drawings of a gang that slipped away last week without paying their bills."

"From Albany," he added ominously.

"Albany!" Ma said.  "All right, come on, we need to dress and put on the make-up for The Mikado.  That detective won't recognize us."

"But Ma," I said, "Pirates was popular in Albany.  It probably would be here too."

"We need a change to stay fresh," she replied.

Of course we modified Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Sullivan's shows to fit our small family group.  The audiences still seemed to enjoy them though.

We made it out of Buffalo that night.  I mean the show went well.

Now we're in Indianapolis.  Dad has just burst in with a family in tow.

"I'd like you to meet my wife and daughter," he said introducing us.  "The Jamison's have acted in neighborhood theater, want to try a bigger stage, and I've offered them a chance to fill in for us tonight."

"But Father," I started, only to be shushed by both Ma and Dad.

"Now, now," Ma said.  "You're father has made a generous offer to these folks, and we won't stand in their way."

Ma was quick on the up take.

The Jamison's dressed, and headed out to the stage.

"Albany?" Ma asked.

"Albany," Dad answered.

"But, the show must go on!"