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I just went down to Ingenuity to check out Mike Geither’s work-in-progress about the misfortunes of Cleveland sports: baseball in particular.

The place at 1220 Huron was packed, which was great, and there was a constant flow of people in and out–hey, it’s a good-sized space that’s cool (temperature wise) and it’s where the restrooms are! But that wasn’t the reason for the crowd–or, if it was, Mike sure got them to stay around for a bit. The play was funny and engaging. Mike always manages to capture something mysterious that causes me great envy. There is something about theater that is mystical and it has to do with 1) engaging that sense of “let’s pretend” from when we were all children: the imagination; but it also has to do with engaging all the senses visual, aural, etc. And Mike manages to do that through his character Chris.

Wearing a white shirt which reads “Ketchup Cheats” in red lettering, Chris begins his discussion of Cleveland’s down-beat sports history with a story of his unfortunate arrest in the Lakewood Public Library for certain inappropriate acts in the bathroom and the stacks. He’s been on the Lakewood police blotter three times and has some unusual behaviors that are problematic when unexplained–and even somewhat problematic when explained. His brother’s death leads to some cemetery discussions which leads to Ray “Chappie” Chapman, the shortstop for the Cleveland Indians who was killed by a Carl Mays pitch (New York Yankees) in 1919. The hatred for New York and Boston teams is thus introduced with some vitriol and expanded with charts, quotes, and stats on payroll, ticker tape parades, and much more. Per usual, Geither does an excellent job of blending character psychology with quirky behavior in the face of monolithic forces that surround and dominate our lives: in this case, history and the events of baseball.

If you’re down at Ingenuity this weekend, I highly recommend seeing this Personal History of Cleveland Baseball.

Ahhh, yes. Sunny childhood fuzzies. Went to see this yesterday at the Memorial Theatre in Mount Vernon, Ohio. My home town–well, one of them. Sorta like Grover’s Corners. Memorial Theatre was a part of my childhood landscape: from Ohio Miss pageants to early musicals and concerts. I was in Oliver at Memorial Theatre. Just walking in made me all tingly and I even got a bit misty with a certain reverence for theaters and realized that slowly, over time, a sort of religiosity has grown in me regarding them–and here was one from my youth. How fitting then that this was the very first theatrical experience for my little girl. Elizabeth, all of three years and eleven months, sat through three hours of The Wizard of Oz and was involved, attentive, even engrossed the whole time. As we left, me carrying her in my right arm, she looked me in the eye and said, "Daddy, that was a good video."

The performance was excellent. It truly was. It is easy to come down on community theater productions, and there were foibles in this one as in most, but I was quite honestly overcome by the community of it. The sheer magnitude of the thing: the cast (79 people and two dogs), the live orchestra, the tech crew, and the director, Bruce Jacklin, who made it all come together; it was impressive. The costumes and sets were magnificent (hats off to Susan Brown). And the tech was spectacular! There were flying monkeys, and a flying wicked witch of the west, and a floating Glinda the good witch (Carrie Crouch), and the tornado swirling everything, and much more. When I think on it, there is not a better performance that could have been picked for a little girl to see as her first show. So, in that regard, hats off to my mother, Susan Hayes, who picked it out.

And of course I was keenly aware and attentive to my little girl. For her reaction was at least as entertaining to me as the spectacle on the stage. And to this end, I’ll remark on the one event that impressed upon me the most–for the whole of it was a spectacle for her, and there were awe-filled moments and frightful moments and happy moments and moments were the sheer zen of the moment was filling her up. But for the frightful, the most terrifying moment was right at the beginning when Mrs Gulch (Marty Bell) comes to the farm to take Toto (Picard Swingle) from Dorothy (Shelby Gonzales). My daughter’s eyes and mouth turned into O’s and she looked at me as if I should go up on stage and do justice. When Gulch took that little dog… all around me in the audience I heard little people crying. The raw emotion of the event so impressed me that I myself began to tear up. It was an unexpectedly powerful moment that, as a playwright, I will not soon forget. Other moments that were of note included the battery of questions that little people shouted out time and again as they watched: "where did the house go?"; "where’s the wicked witch?" etc. That is, paying attention to what draws the eye, what gets attention.

The acting was great. Excellent performances were turned in by Hunk/Scarecrow (Aaron Moreland), Hickory/Tin Man (Mike Andrews), and Zeke/Lion (Matt Starr), as well as Professor Marvel/Oz (Chuck Ransom) and, of course, Mrs. Gulch/Wicked Witch. Some moments were uncannily close to the movie performances which, like it or not, was probably the yard stick that most people came in with–but they delivered.

I had a great time, and from the first act, through the intermission ice cream, right up to the return trip home, I know my daughter did too; and for me, that was the best part of it all.

Runs through July 12 in Mount Vernon, Ohio. If you’re close by, it is well worth the trip. For more information check out www.mtvarts.com or www.brucejacklin.com.