A 44 year wait

On August 2, 1970, I was at the Forest Hills, New York, tennis stadium, waiting for a concert to begin. I had left Notre Dame in mid-May after the murders at Kent State and had spent the summer living in my brother's Bronx apartment and working at Steak & Brew at 51st and Broadway -- a former location of Lindy's, for those who care about cheesecake and New York landmarks (see Guys and Dolls). After working at McDonald's in high school, Steak & Brew was my first real restaurant job and I wouldn't shake the habit for another sixteen years.

There are great stories to tell about my time at 51st Street, like the afternoon I "almost" knocked over Katharine Hepburn; or the busboy who stuffed doggie bags full of lettuce, keeping the steak morsels for himself; or the day one of our waiters landed a job on a soap opera -- I was the only one on the schedule who wasn't trying to break into show business.

But this story is about that night at Forest Hills and the forty-four year disappointment that was partially addressed last night. We were waiting for Janis Joplin to take the stage, but the skies had been threatening since late afternoon. By concert time the rain was falling softly and an announcement was made that the show would be postponed for a bit as we watched the skies. We waited over an hour, but the rain only fell harder. Finally we were told, "sorry, folks, it's not gonna happen tonight."

We were disappointed of course, but we were stoned, we were off work, we were young -- it wasn't that big a deal.

Until Janis died two months later. I had missed my chance to see one of the iconic rock and roll stars of all time.

Fast forward almost forty years. A Night with Janis Joplin opened on Broadway on October 10, 2013, to mixed reviews. Mixed for the show that is; near-unanimous praise for its star. Charles Isherwood in the Times wrote,

Mary Bridget Davies, whose positively uncanny vocal impersonation of Joplin keeps the house rocking for much of the show’s running time . . . rockets through at least a dozen of Joplin’s best-known songs, and sings them with a throbbing fervor that is often riveting. Her ability to match Joplin’s highly emotive style could probably give members of the audience who saw the real woman something close to a contact high — or maybe a nostalgia high is the better term.

I meant to see that show, I really, really did, but I didn't act quickly enough. It closed on February 9, 2014. But then in a highly unusual twist the producers announced they would bring the show back, off-Broadway this time. I hurried to get tickets.

Then, forty-eight hours before the first performance of the revived Night, it was abruptly canceled. Bummer. No, BUMMER! The producers blamed slow ticket sales; insiders complained the show wasn't given a chance to find its audience. In the most ironic footnote to the story, Mary Bridget Davies was nominated for a Tony for the original Broadway run. She lost to Jessie Mueller's amazing portrayal of another rock goddess, Carole King, but the nomination confirmed the critic's praise.

I never saw A Night with Janis Joplin but I am ecstatic to report that I did see Mary Bridget Davies, last night at B B King's in Times Square. In a concert that included lots of Joplin's best known tunes -- and a surprising amount of other music -- Davies dazzled, leading an amazingly tight seven-piece band that sent the mostly-my-age crowd into a rock and roll frenzy. But it was her show, or rather, her's and Janis's. When she sang Ball and Chain I truly felt that Joplin had returned to 42nd Street and Davies's final number, Piece of My Heart (of course) was an everybody-on-your-feet, fist-pumping, lyric-shouting adrenalin rush like I haven't experienced in quite a while.

If there is any justice in this world -- and that, I admit, is a huge if -- Mary Bridget Davies will be a mega-star.