Tony Time!

When the Tony nominations came out this year, one comment struck my eye: why in the dickens was The Wedding Singer nominated for Best Musical? It being widely considered by all of the citizens up and down Broadway as a dawg of a show. The answer, more or less, was that the Committee had a slate to fill, and there was nothing left to nominate.

In other news, on April 21, 2006, Sam's, a piano bar on 45th Street featuring the stylish fingerings of one Michael Walsh, shut its doors for good and all, because the Disney juggernaut had purchased the real estate (I chipped an incisor as a result of that acquisition, but that's a tedious tale with which I won't bore you).

Of course, the so-called clean-up of Times Square has had me in a snit for years. Goddammit, go peddle yer pablum in Podunk, ya patronizing, paternalistic prigs!

So a couple of days ago, I sang to myself, "I'm fed right up with Disney, okay? Okay?" to the tune of Daniel Decatur Emmett's Dixie Land. At this point, any idea is a good idea, and the upshot follows:

Why are Broadway musicals completely rotten?
Old Times Square is long forgotten.
What a shame! Put the blame on the lame Disney fare.
Whether Disney's nominated for a Tony™—
Win or lose—it's still baloney,
'Cause the name of the game is the same Disney fare.

I've had my fill of Disney, okay? Okay?
If Disneyland seems dull and bland, you ain't seen half of Disney.
No Mame—no Fame—just wholesome pap from Disney.
It's tame. It's lame. In short—it's par for Disney.

Lyric © 2006 Nathaniel DesH. Petrikov

A second verse and chorus are in utero, but don't run out and buy any cigars. The number of stillbirths chez nous is simply staggering.