A friend called the other day and asked if we wanted to go and see Baby Jane Dexter and the Angela Peralta Theatre.  I am always up for Kulture and this show looked interesting.  So we said yes.

baby.jane.holzerI did not hear Baby Jane Dexter but instead Baby Jane Holzer, an actress made famous by Andy Warhol.  This sounded interesting and “far out”.

baby jane dexterAs we are standing in line and I am telling my friends how excited I am to see Baby Jane Holzer I am informed that it is Baby Jane Dexter.  I have never heard of Baby Jane Dexter and now I am out $300 pesos to hear something I don’t know, sing songs I don’t know.  I admit my faux paux and these New York friends smirk.

We find aisle seats and sit and chat until the show starts.

The Emcee comes out and give us a brief bio and says that two people have come all the way from New York.  Great applause but I am not fooled by applause in San Miguel because people clap for everything.

Ken Bichel comes out and plays a little ditty.  Great applause. Then Baby Jane Dexter comes out.  Life has not been kind to her and her first song was proof.  She sings another song “15 Minutes of Hell”.  It appears to be about rape or she was describing how I was feeling.

Now, I am faced with that terrible moment whenever I encounter Kulture.  Do I tell the truth? Dare say I am not enjoying something.  I know not to say “How are you enjoying it?” as it know everyone in San Miguel enjoys everything they see or hear.  So I wait

whatever happened toI look around and I so want to see this.  Joan Crawford and Bette Davis peeking through the curtains and start to do Whatever Happened to Baby Jane.  I wait.  Nothing.  Only my Baby Jane ‘singing’.

Who booked this woman?  I make a quip that I know what happens to people who can’t make it on cruise ships.  They are booked into San Miguel.  I am told by my New York friends that it would more likely be Comonfort not San Miguel.  A clue?

That last time I went to a Broke Concert and there was no singing now this singer is getting in the way of the piano player.

Now she is doing a poem to words.  At least she isn’t singing.

Then a miracle occurs.  My New York friends say “Lets get out of here.”  It wasn’t even intermission.  We left.

My New York friends say that this wasn’t good.  My god, am I hearing a negative review in San Miguel.  I don’t care I am free.

We head to a restaurant.

Blanche: You wouldn’t be able to do these awful things to me if I weren’t still in this chair.

Jane: But you *are*, Blanche! You *are* in that chair!

Blanche: Who was that at the door earlier?

Jane: Elvira.

Blanche: Where is she now? In the kitchen?

Jane: No, I gave her the day off. She has a pretty hard time considering. I told her to come back next week.

Jane: [pauses] Oh, Blanche? You know we’ve got rats in the cellar?