Megan McCafferty

(retro)photo Friday #2: Too much make-up

When I was in 5th grade I auditioned for a variety show called RAZZLE DAZZLE ‘EM at a local community theater. For the try-out, I sang the trenchant, big vibrato ballad “Don’t Cry Out Loud” made famous by a singer named Melissa Manchester that I don’t expect any of you kids to know about. (EDIT: It has been pointed out to me that any fans of the movie “Drop Dead Gorgeous” will be familiar with this song.) The sheet music was totally not in my key and it was kind of an inappropriate song to be sung by an eleven-year-old. Not inappropriate as in like, porny, but lyrically speaking it’s not a song an eleven-year-old could really sing with any authentic feeling…yet if done well I guess it could’ve had a haunting effect kind of like The Langley Schools Music Project’s version of “Desperado.” I chose “Don’t Cry Out Loud” for two reasons: 1. My mom liked it. 2. I was very familiar with it because it played on WOBM all the time.

Despite my horrible audition, I got cast in the show. I’m pretty sure they took everybody. RAZZLE DAZZLE ‘EM consisted entirely of scenes and songs from a bunch of famous broadway shows. All the pre-teens and teens were put in a number from the musical “Bye, Bye Birdie” called “The Telephone Song.” I had four solo lines:

DIDJA HEAR ABOUT KIIIIIIIM?/I JUST KNEW IT SOMEHOOOOOOOOOW/I MUST CALL HER RIIIIIIGHT UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP/I CAN’T TALK TO YOU NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!”

I clearly did not understand my character’s motivation. I held my notes sooooooooooo looooooooooong that it was pretty obvious to even the casual listener that I did indeed have plenty of time to sing-talk and I would go on sing-talking indefinitely if only these other stupid girls on stage weren’t sing-talking their own lines about Hugo and Kim and getting pinned yeahyeah.

My mom did pull together a very cool bobby-soxer costume, so I was placed upstage center which made me very happy.

What did not make me happy was how shortly after these photos were taken my mom made me wash off 95 percent of my stage make-up, which I had applied myself in the hopes of coming across as older and more sophistcated to the 7th grade boy in the show that I had a major crush on.

He ended up dating a 6th grade girl in the show named Holly whose mom let her wear as much make-up as she wanted, on-stage or off.

Sigh.

Tags: (retro)photo Friday, 1984