Young and Full of Fluff

From the ages of 9 to 17, I went to summer camp in Vermont. And one of the features of camp was we put on a show for parents weekend. If you auditioned, you got a part, and friends, I was the kid that proviso was designed for. Though I’ve always been able to sing, my acting skills can best be described as painful to watch.

When I was 10, I was cast as Bull #2 in “Narnia!” (There was no Bull #2 in the show—they took all the speaking animal parts and split them into multiple to accommodate more kids. My costume was…my bathing suit. I mean, it was black, but it had electric blue lightning bolts on it which rather ruined the effect. And I made myself horns and a tail out of toilet paper rolls. We did not so much have a budget.)

Even though I’m pretty sure that Bull #2 sung in 0% of this, I sure was standing on stage a lot, so I remember this musical *extremely* well—especially the White Witch’s songs, which, to me, were bangers.

I have looked for this musical for years. For *years.* It is a children’s show, so has never been professionally recorded. Sometime last year, my Google Fu brought me to the composer’s website. On there, you could license the score/script to put on at your local school. And, tantalizingly, you could purchase a rehearsal tape of the songs from the show.

So I emailed the composer, Thomas Tierney, and inquired about buying the rehearsal tape. He emailed me back to ask what theater was producing the show. So I never replied, because the answer is no one, I just want the recording.

Earlier this month, I went through all the flagged emails in my personal account. (I flag things that need follow up—usually because there’s an attachment I want to save (my mother scans her paintings and sends them around), it’s about planning something (all of these emails about buying theater tickets entirely moot at this point), or something I thought need a thoughtful reply so set aside for later…and later never came). And I spotted this reply from Tierney.

Friends—I spotted a loophole.

In response to the email, I mailed a check for $12 and a note to the address provided. In the note I said I hoped that live theater would be able to return soon. (See! Did not technically say I was associated with any theater! Loophole!) I figured he was less likely to ask further questions if I sent by mail, and if I never heard of it again, ah well. It was $12.

HE SENT ME BACK THE REHEARSAL TAPE.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I immediately ripped it to my computer then saved to the cloud. The CD made a fwp-fwp-fwp sound in the drive, which tells me he burned a pile of these 15 years ago and they’ve been sitting in his garage. It says on it, “Demo may not be broadcast or sold,” and then he has sharpied in “or streamed.”

It is as wonderful as I could have imagined.

To be clear—this is not good. Either by the standards of song writing—I still love it, but I have to admit it’s cheesy as hell—or in performance—it’s a piano and clearly a cast of locally assembled people, so some of the performance choices are…iffy.

But who can forget hits like “Turkish Delight,” “You Can’t Imagine,” “Hot and Bothered,” or “Deep Magic” (which features a kind of patter battle between the White Witch and Aslan with the lyrics, “I claim the boy as my legitimate victim/I have the right to spill the blood of a traitor”).

I ADORE it.

Since I am prohibited by sharpie from streaming, if you care to partake, someone has uploaded an amateur performance of my 10-year-old self’s FAVORITE song, Turkish Delight.

Caviar is simply fish eggs,
Champagne’s only fizz.
Truffles merely dull the appetite.
They don’t give you half the thrill of
What no human being ever gets his fill of—
Turkish! Turkish Delight.