Page 84 - MN

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The other act replaced Eric after the first two years. I wish I could remember their names but they were introduced as ice dancing champions. They were husband and wife and would come out elegantly in tuxedo and ball gown, skating beautifully. Then a metal light shade would fall from the ceiling, he would trip on it and do a tremendous fall. The audience would gasp. He'd get up, bravely, and start skating again. The audience would applaud madly. What courage, what a professional! But then more things would go wrong. His stiff collar would fly loose, his pants would fall, and again it was a beautiful piece of slapstick comedy. Money in the bank.
They were great years and I got to know a whole new subculture. I also found out that there's an art to making ice. Too warm and it gets slushy and slow to skate on. Too cold and it's like cement and the grooves can trip up skaters. So we had two ice technicians and their job was to find that perfect temperature as the temperature and humidity in the theaters fluctuated. Not easy.
Also I worked with one of my oldest friends, Walt Wagner. Walt is a really gifted Seattle pianist who studied classical music and then drifted into jazz and pop. He is kind of the golden boy of music, able to light up a room with his smile and bring an audience to their feet with his music. I, of course, hated that. Goddam audiences. Every night in the show he'd play MacArthur Park, build to a giant climax, and get a standing ovation. Every night I'd do my show and get a fine ovation from a bunch of people glued to their seats. Walt was flamboyant, I was understated. MacArthur Park was a stupid song. Okay, I was a little bitter but I concealed it well.
During the second tour of the show, some of us decided it would be fun to camp out instead of staying in motels. We'd either find a KOA or camp out behind the theater. The funny part was that Walt drove a Lincoln Towncar, which was huge, even in those days of Detroit monsters. We couldn't wait so see him drive up to a KOA camping space in his luxury limo, get out and pitch a pup tent.
Walt and I both had John Powell as a manager so we played a lot of shows together over the years. He was hugely popular in the Northwest and would fill up nightclubs wherever he played. The only time he failed baffled him until I explained what went wrong. John booked him on a Seabourn cruise ship, which would've given him a nice job option if he'd succeeded. As usual, he got standing ovations, and was kind of stunned when he didn't get booked again. I knew what had happened because I'd played that line a lot. The cruise director on that ship also played piano and did occasional shows, and he was no match for Walt. I'm sure he gave him a bad review. The world isn't fair, and those ships lost a really good performer.