My favorite episode of all time had to be “The Last Kiss of Summer.” ’member, the one where Joe got married? I’ll never forget when I first heard about it, I was devastated. Joe Hardy couldn’t have a wife. It would ruin the show!
Sure enough, the scene opened with Joe and that girl, Jamie, driving down the coast in Joe’s convertible, staring lovingly into each other’s eyes, the wind blowing both their long blond hair while that romantic ’70s song played in the background.
“If a picture paints a thousand words…”
After Joe and Jamie professed their undying love for each other and shared a passionate kiss, they walked along the beach, arm in arm.
“If a face could launch a thousand ships…”
I remember thinking how beautiful Jamie looked in her cutoff jean shorts and blouse tied in a knot in front, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Shaun Cassidy’s smile. I remember wanting to press my face against the tiny screen—and kiss it. Imagine how confusing that must’ve been for a 6-year-old boy. Especially one who spent so much time surrounded by his sisters, he sometimes felt more like one of the girls.
“Joe Hardy is sooo cute!” I gushed, scootching closer to the TV set.
“I like Frank better,” Janelle decided, even though I couldn’t understand how she could think such a thing.
Obviously Sheryl Killian didn’t realize how things worked in the Dayton household. “Joe is a boy,” she took it upon herself to point out. “You can’t think he’s cute, Bradley.”
I turned to Janelle.
She turned to Sheryl. “It’s okay…Sometimes Brad thinks boys are cute.”
To Janelle, it was totally no biggie. She even let me play Barbies with her.
And then tragedy struck.
I knew there’d be trouble the second Joe and Jamie got into their car after the wedding rehearsal and we cut to that jerk, Jocco. Coming from the opposite direction, there he was driving drunk with his bimbo girlfriend. Only I never expected Joe and Jamie to get run off the road.
“Look out!” Me, Janelle, and Sheryl cried out in three-part harmony.
I covered my face with my hands, the way Mom taught me to do whenever there was a scary part, like when Bugs Bunny met Dr. Jekyll and he turned into Mr. Hyde. Yet I couldn’t help sneaking a peek thru my tiny little fingers the second I heard that horrible sound.
“Oh, my God…”
I started crying soon as I seen Joe slumped over the steering wheel and Jamie laying against the dashboard…blood on her shoulder. Thank God that other car with them two guys in it pulled up. How could they just drive away without stopping to help?
Poor Joe…He took one look at his soon-to-be wedded wife and knew there was nothing he could do. Holding her tight, he sobbed, “Jamie…Jamie.”
Leave it to the Hardy Boys to go undercover and catch the killer!
I particularly loved the part when Joe befriended Jocco and they threw that party out at their fancy beach house. I immediately recognized the Muzak version of “How Deep is Your Love?” from the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack playing in the background…God, I wanted to see that movie sooo bad!
I remember being confused when Frank arrived and Joe acted like he didn’t recognize his brother. Really, it was all just part of the plan to set Jocco up and bust him for selling stolen goods. Until Jocco got wise to Frank posing as a big-time surfer, and sent him out on his board in shark-infested waters…I’ll never forget the sight of Parker Stevenson in that wetsuit, even though my heart would always belong to Shaun Cassidy.
The only other part of “The Last Kiss of Summer” that I remember comes at the very end. After being haunted by her memory the entire episode, Joe spots Jamie walking down the beach in her bikini bathing suit. He runs up to her, touches her on the shoulder, and says, “Excuse me…”
“If the world should stop revolving, spinning slowly down to die…”
She turns around—and it’s some other girl.
How Joe could’ve been mistaken, I never understood. This broad looked nothing like beautiful Jamie. In fact, wasn’t she kind of a dog, if I recall correctly?
“Mommy!”
Later that evening when Laura returned with Jim, she reached into her purse. Besides watching The Hardy Boys on TV, this was always my favorite part of the night.
“Hold out your hands and open your eyes…”
Mom always brought us a special treat on bowling night. I don’t know why, but no matter what kind, candy always tasted better coming from a vending machine. This time, I got a Hershey bar and Janelle got a Kit Kat. Nina and Brittany were already asleep so they were shit outta luck.
After we took our bath, Mom tucked us both into bed together.
“Next time you go shopping,” I whispered, so as not to wake up Nina or Brittany in the bed beside us, “will you buy me a Shaun Cassidy record?”
Mom sat down next to me, looking like she didn’t know what the hell I was talking about. “I might…If you tell me who Shaun Cassidy is.”
“He’s just this boy on TV,” I replied, adding, “Janelle thinks he’s cute.”
Mom smiled, looking at my older sister. “Then how come Janelle isn’t asking for his record?”
Coming to her baby brother’s rescue, she replied, “We can share it.”
Mom kissed my forehead. “Don’t forget to say your prayers.” She pulled the blanket up so that it barely covered my ear before turning out the light, making sure to leave the door open a smidge.
Dear God, I prayed, eyes closed, hands folded together beneath my chin. Bless Mommy and Daddy and please don’t let them fight anymore…Bless Janelle and Nina and Brittany…And Grandpa and Grandma Dayton and Grandpa and Grandma Victor…
Who else?
Bless my teacher, Miss Langton, and all the kids in my class at Miller Elementary in Center Line, Michigan. Even Jeffy Morgan who picks on me sometimes.
Now for the important stuff…
And please God, if you think about it, next time Mommy goes to Kmart’s, maybe you can remind her to buy me a Shaun Cassidy record. The one with “Da Doo Run Run”—I mean, “Da Doo Ron Ron—okay? I promise I’ll be extra good and I won’t fight with my sisters anymore. Especially when we’re in your house…In the name of your Son, amen.
Lo and behold, a few days later when I got home from school, guess what I found?
Propped up on my pillow, the full-sized face of Shaun Cassidy stared back at me from the cover of his self-titled debut album, hand behind his head, a smile upon his lips, wearing the cutest little white hat cocked to one side. Hard to believe that was over ten years ago…God, I’m getting old!
How fitting was it that the first part I’d be auditioning for at Hazel Park High would be Curly McClain, opposite the role of Laurey Williams, first made famous in Okla-homo!—I mean, Oklahoma!—by Shaun Cassidy’s mother, Shirley Jones?
“What’ve you got for us today?”
Us being Mr. Dell’Olio and his Sophomore Student Director, a girl I knew from Ms. Lemieux’s 7th grade Enriched English & Social Studies at Webb, Claire Moody. They both sat scrutinizing me from the front row of the auditorium. First I had to perform a monologue I prepared on my own, and if Dell liked what he saw, he’d ask me to sing and/or read from the script.
“I’ll be doing a monologue from my fav-rid—I mean, favorite—movie,” I told him, hitting the T, my voice trembling with fear. I wiped my sweaty palms on the front of my khaki pants, hoping they didn’t leave a stain.
“Good, good,” Mr. Dell’Olio replied. “What is it?”
With the utmost confidence, I answered, “Somewhere in Time, starring Jane Seymour and Christopher Reeves—I mean, Reeve.” I always get that wrong!
Dell nodded and smiled, making a note on his clipboard. At that point, I never had him for a teacher, but he seemed like a nice guy. And The Skeleton Walks turned out pretty good earlier that fall so I been wanting to work with him ever since.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
I stared down at my topsiders, took a deep breath, in and out. I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, I imagined myself as Jane Seymour, with Christopher Reeve (no S) watching me from the audience.
“The man of my dreams has almost faded now…”
Personally, I gave an awesome audition. And I must have, because after I finished my monologue Mr. Dell’Olio asked, “What’re you gonna sing?”
“Um…”
The only song I could find the sheet music for was “Too Young” by Jack Wagner. You know, Frisco from General Hospital. Because I never been in a musical, I didn’t know the first thing about auditioning for one. All I knew was I needed to prepare sixteen bars.
“Sounds good,” Mr. Dell’Olio said all smiles. “Liza will play for you…Again, whenever you’re ready.”
Sporting her signature spider, Liza Larson smiled at me from behind the piano down in the pit. Back then, I didn’t know her very well. Like I said, we would later become buddies once I got brave enough to smoke out on Skid Row.
“All set?” Liza asked me.
I took a deep breath and listened as her fingers began working their magic.
“Hello, love, it’s been way too long…”
Boy, did I sing my butt off! I reached notes I never hit practicing in my bedroom. My pitch was perfect. Sad to say, I didn’t get the part.
At least not the lead, Curly.
This guy, Jake Czyzyk, got it just because he was a Senior—and he was totally hot.
Wanna know what role I did get cast as?
Curly’s sidekick, Will Parker, opposite Audrey Wojczek as Ado Annie. Thank God by the time the show went up, we totally got along. The cool part was…I got to sing two songs, “Kansas City” and “All Er Nuthin’,” twirl a rope, and do a tap dance in cowboy boots. I looked pretty cute doing it, too, if I do say so myself.
Not bad for a Sophomore who never really acted before, huh?
Never Let Me Down Again
“I’m taking a ride
With my Best Friend…”
—Depeche Mode
“Your other left!”
The following Wednesday, me and Rob Berger are up on stage, during 5th hour. We’re working on a scene from a play called Brighton Beach Memoirs. You know, by Neil Simon. He’s the guy who wrote Barefoot in the Park with Robert Redford and Jane Fonda. Dell picked it out for us. I didn’t realize the play starred Ferris from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off when it premiered on Broadway in 1983. Until I opened up the script, and there he was: Matthew Broderick as Eugene Jerome…So much for stage actors not being stars!
“For Pete’s sake…This isn’t rocket science.”
I watch as Mr. Dell’Olio literally slaps his furrowed forehead. Meanwhile, all the other Drama Queers stare at us in silence.
“You said ‘move to the left’ didn’t you?”
Poor Rob Berger…He looks like he’s gonna bust a nut he’s so confused right now.
“My left, your right!”
Rob looks at me.
I look at Mr. Dell’Olio for clarification. “You mean, stage right?”
Stage left. Stage right. Up stage. Down stage.
Sounds easy, huh? Try being the one up there taking direction. Especially when your director is screaming out your blocking at you.
“Just move, Berger,” Dell orders, “and say your line while you’re doing it…Got it?”
Rob mumbles softly, “Got it.”
You’d think Mr. Dell’Olio would know what he’s doing by now. He’s been teaching Drama for how many years? And prior to that, he worked as a professional director Off-Off Broadway in New York City. It’s not our fault some Russian guy, Stanislavsky, decided back in the late 1800s that stage right meant the actor’s right and not the director’s.
“Is it Christmas Break yet?” Dell asks aloud, to nobody in particular.
“Seventy-eight more days,” a voice responds from somewhere in the void.
“Thank you, Audrey!”
“No problem, Dell.”
That’s Aud, always being a smart-ass!
I look out to see her slumped down in her seat next to Tuesday Gunderson, both girls trying not to chuckle at mine and Rob’s expense.
“Whenever you fellas are ready,” Mr. Dell’Olio says to us now. “Preferably sometime before I retire in the year 2007.”
In the scene, me and Rob play brothers: Stanley and Eugene. Stanley’s eighteen and Eugene is fifteen, which is perfect casting if you ask me. I don’t look the least bit my real age (seventeen) and Rob looks like he’s at least twenty. Must be the mustache…and the fact that he’s had pubes since he was twelve!
The only thing is, Stanley and Eugene are Jewish. Not that I got a problem with Jewish people, I just don’t know any. The closest thing you get to a Jewish anything in The Friendly City of Hazel Park is when the cross-country team has a bagel sale.
“From the top?” Rob asks, looking in my direction.
“You got the first line,” I remind him.
“Oh…”
Not that he’s not a cool guy, but you can probably imagine why Rob Berger’s a Varsity athlete. As hot as he may be, he isn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch, you know what I mean? Surprisingly, he’s a fairly decent actor—for a jock.
We been in Dell’s Drama class together since Junior year. This past spring, he played the role of Dr. Orin Scrivello, DDS in Little Shop of Horrors to my Seymour and Liza Larson’s Audrey. Picture Rob in a black leather jacket sucking on that nitric oxide. H-O-T!
Poor Audrey…She desperately wanted to be Audrey, but Dell decided to go with a blond, like in the movie. Not to mention the fact that Audrey is more of a character actress. This is why she ended up playing Chiffon, one of the three street urchins.
“What are you doing here?”
I remember asking Rob this when I saw him at the auditions.
“You think I can’t act just because I’m a jock?” he joked.
The second he flashed that fucking grin of his, I was smitten.
Of all people, I never expected to see Rob Berger trying out for a play, least of all a musical. Back in junior high, he never did anything artistic. He didn’t sing in Choir or play an instrument in Band or even take Creative Academics with Ms. Lemieux. Now of all a sudden, there he was…From Total Jock to Drama Queer!
Only Rob Berger is far from being a queer of any kind as far as I can tell. Sure, he’s popular, and we already established how hot he is, but like I said, he’s a Varsity football player. How come he doesn’t have a girlfriend? In fact, I’ve known Rob for over five years now, and in all that time I can’t remember him ever going with anybody.
He did bring this one girl, Katy Griffin, to the 9th grade Carnation Dance. She used to play trombone and sat next to me in Band all three years at Webb, but I always thought Katy might be a lesbian so she doesn’t count.
“Hold!”
The second we finally get rolling, Mr. Dell’Olio starts screaming at us again. Personally, I thought the scene was going good. So far I didn’t drop a single line.
Too bad I can’t say the same for Rob.
“Are we doing something wrong?” he asks, more to me than to Herr Director.
“Yeah, Dell…What’s up?” I wonder. “Do we totally suck or something?”
“You’re fine, Dayton,” Mr. Dell’Olio replies. “I can’t say the same for your partner.”
Rob’s face goes raspberry-beret-red. “Sorry, Coach.” Frustrated, he kicks at some nonexistent fuzz on the lip of the stage.
What’s happening in the scene is…Eugene is playing with his football when Stanley enters, all freaked out. He just got fired from his job for disrespecting his boss, this German Nazi-type guy who naturally must hate Stanley since he’s a Jew, and vice versa. Being a comedy, it’s pretty funny shit, even though Dell’s taking it super seriously.
“Berger,” he says to Rob, sounding like a dad about to have the (quote-unquote) talk with his firstborn son. “Tell me something…
”
Rob looks up without saying a word.
“What’s your motivation?”
After a slight pause Rob asks, “What do you mean?”
Dell loses it. He throws his arms up in defeat. “How many days till Christmas Break?”
“Seventy-eight,” Audrey pipes up from the Peanut Gallery. “You already asked.”
I can’t help but laugh when I see Dell shaking his head, looking like he can’t take much more. Really, he’s not a crabass. He just can’t resist acting all dramatic. In fact, he’s just as much a Drama Queer as the rest of us. Except he’s not a homo, he’s totally married.
“In the scene,” Mr. Dell’Olio says slowly, trying a new tactic, “what is your motivation?”
Rob repeats, “What’s my motivation in the scene?”
I think he thinks if he stalls, the answer will come to him.
Poor Rob…I can’t stand to see him suffer. Not with Audrey and Tuesday and all the other Drama Queers sitting in their seats scrutinizing him as he starts to sweat. Where’s Mr. Fish with his rag when you need it?
“He means, what do you want?” I whisper, trying to talk without moving my lips, à la Laverne DeFazio from Laverne & Shirley.
Rob’s face lights up. “Oh! What do I want?”
“What does Stanley want?” Dell corrects.
“What does Stanley want?” Rob repeats, like it’s finally starting to sink in. “Beats the hell outta me.”
Thunderous applause!
Finally, the bell rings, signaling the 2:00 PM end of Advanced Drama, putting both me and Rob outta our Brighton Beach Memoirs misery…
“Good scene, you guys.”
Audrey approaches from the aisle, her long red hair swaying behind her back. I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or not.
“Seriously,” Tuesday snorts, bringing up the rear. “You’re a really good actor, Berger.”
“Thanks,” Rob mutters, avoiding eye contact with the ladies.
Tuesday looks at me, forgetting I’m also standing there. “You too, Brad.”
Drama Queers! Page 3