By ERNIE NEUFELD
Now that is an extremely misleading title, but at least it grabbed the readers' attention. I think. I hope.
There was nothing to warn us of the extra-unusual when, some 18 months ago, we were offered tickets to a live show in New York's fabled theatre district.
No tickets for a "name" Broadway production were available, but the ticket agent at our renowned hotel, when pressed, suggested - somewhat warily I thought - a new show receiving rave reviews.
"It's a comedy," explained the youthful vendor, obviously put off by our apparent (shall I say?) misgivings. He went a step further and admitted it was about a gay baseball player.
The name of the show was "Take Me Out"; no need, after that, to explain the double entendre. We're all familiar with the baseball theme song, "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" and the current fad of individuals with certain lifestyles coming out of the closet.
It is a subject that becomes just a bit wearying to my generation, and we had some reservations about paying big dollars - "big" without even considering the then-high rate of exchange on the U.S. dollar.
Big is big, but big plus 30 to 40 per cent, as it was in fall of 2003, is pushing just plain big by one-third or more. It makes a person wonder if it's worth it - even on a mad weekend in New York - to be brainwashed about what, to many, has become so normal at this point in time.
But the big step finally was taken, and a few hours later we found ourselves with a capacity crowd in a large theatre, together with the throngs. I think half of Nebraska, North Dakota and Wyoming was there with us.
When we became accustomed to the more than usual (or necessary) vile language predominant in every second script line or more, we discovered it was intended neither as justification nor condemnation of the lifestyle herein front-stage-centre.
The purpose was simply to portray in a humorous light, and in the familiar venue of a professional baseball club, the range of feelings attending the "coming out" of a gay superstar - so "super" that there could not even be a thought of simply striking him from the roster.
Barely comfortable with the basic thrust of the play, a big surprise came in a dressing room scene, showing about seven of the team members, as naked as the day they were born, taking their after-the-game shower, and revealing their feelings about the situation. They were on for minutes, full-front, scrubbing themselves with full streams of water pouring on them from above.
After we became reconciled to this unusual scene, and all the naughty words, we had little trouble rising with the rest of the audience to applaud heartily a funny, well-presented play.
On the way back to our hotel, we nevertheless were given to wondering if this play would be shown, as we had just seen it, in Toronto. We agreed it was highly unlikely.
Thus we were surprised when "Take Me Out" was scheduled for our dramatic series at the St. Lawrence Centre in Toronto, and we speculated for a few months about what to expect.
It turned out to be a presentation exactly like the one in New York. We did observe in a number of locations of the concourse, very visible, red-lettered signs warning of "full frontal male nudity." Also we noticed, that while the matinee performances usually bring out large numbers of high school students in lower-priced balcony seats, that section of the theatre was visibly bare.
But Toronto has come a long way, baby. I suppose, so have we!
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