Maybe It Does Take a Brain Surgeon to Produce a Christmas Pageant

Dr. Sanford Wright Jr. was one of my high school classmates and is now a prominent neurosurgeon in our home town of Everett, Washington. They say that Sandy is a great doctor. I know he is a great guy. Quiet, unassuming, concerned. He has always been a very good friend to my parents, particularly my mom after my father died. In high school, the future Dr. Wright was overlooked. We had a huge school—more than 2000 kids in three classes and among the males there were three types: 1) those who looked like men, 2) those who looked like high school kids, and 3) those who resembled little boys. Fortunately or unfortunately, Sandy fell into Category 3. He just tried to stay out of everyone’s way.  Dr. Wright looks pretty much like he did in high school except that now he’s a slim six footer who could pass for 45 instead of 63. There is a progressive advantage to having youthful looks.  High school was probably not the high point of Sanford’s life. The notes by his yearbook photo report: “Three year Honor Roll, Permanent Torch, Chess Club Secretary 2.” I’ve never asked, but my guess is he couldn’t wait to get out of there. As it turns out, Sanford had talents that went unnoticed by his high school class. You see Sanford has a lot of Andy Hardy in him. Those too young to recall this series of Mickey Rooney movies need to know that Andy liked to get some costumes together and put on  a show. So does Sandy. His secret is out. He really wanted to be an impresario, a producer-director, a showman and promoter. Here’s the deal. If you are a wealthy doc and you want to produce a show, there’s really nothing to stop you.

I love going to Sanford’s productions. You never know what to expect. And, at some point in the evening, I’m always rewarded with a number that rises to the level of camp. Sanford will produce the unexpected and sometimes the unintentionally hilarious. Several years ago Sanford produced a show for a Volunteers of America event where my dad was the honoree. Inexplicably Sanford flew into town the former national champion barbershop quartet to entertain. They were terrific, but apropos of nothing.

We haven’t lived in Everett since 1978 but through the years I would get Sanford reports. He was still single. He bought the old mansion on Rucker Hill and held fabulous parties. But, most interesting, was his involvement with Russian ballroom dancers. I don’t know how he originally made this connection but beginning many years ago professional Russian ballroom dancers began to live in his home. There was a series of stunning beauties and their dance partners and one would hear a rumor or two. I even made it to a New Years party about ten years ago. It was actually a low key affair. Some flamboyant dancers striding purposely from room to room and Dehner Franks, one of Sanford’s protégés, on the piano. One year Sandy showed up in Ashland with a lady friend, not a ballroom dancer, and we had dinner and caught up. Strangely, on our visits to Everett we would often bump into him and have a cordial but short visit. Sanford would always be wearing his trademark khaki blazer and running shoes. (In the evening he switches to a blue blazer and gray slacks).

But the shows kept getting bigger and more spectacular. A couple years ago he produced an homage to his mother at the Everett Civic Auditorium which we missed.  You see, his mom, Dorothy Jane, had taught dance for forty years. She had many loyal and grateful students including my high school girlfriend Betsy, a fine singer in her own right whose accompanist was young Sanford Wright. I heard the Dorothy Jayne Show was eclectic. Sanford even flew Betsy in from Philadelphia to perform. It was a big show in a big theater. And last summer there was a big show for the opening of the Dorothy Jane Studio. We got to that one.

Here’s the fun part of the Sanford saga. One of those Russian girls finally got Sanford to the alter. Olga Foraponova can only be described as a trophy wife. She’s got the trophies and is living a trophy life. A two-time U.S. National Ballroom Champion (you’ve seen her if you watch that PBS show), Olga retired from competition in 1998. Now she presides over a remodeled warehouse with a 40’ X 60’ maple dance floor giving dance lessons See New Stars, designing costumes (Designs by Olga) and planning parties at the Dorothy Jayne Studio For upcoming events at Dorothy Jayne Studio
At the grand opening, in the big number, Olga was dramatically carried onto the floor by six dancers dressed in black to be reunited with her pro dance partner. She is an awesome dancer. A lithe beauty who now carries a two year old daughter on her hip. (Good God, Sanford! I’ve got grandchildren older than that). Sanford had flown in from Moscow another famous ballroom teacher who was the emcee. Sanford is always flying someone in, usually at great expense. This imported Master of Ceremonies, however, could not keep Sandy away from the microphone. He likes to, over the course of an evening’s entertainment, recognize almost everyone in the audience and thank them for something. We left after intermission which occurred around 10:30pm.

So when Linda decided to delay our return to Ashland one more day so we could attend “A Christmas Spectacular: The Gift of Music” at the newly remodeled Historic Everett Theater I was excited but cautious. Sanford had been producing this show for several years and this was rumored to be his biggest yet. The Historic Everett Theater is historic for me because in 1956 while sitting in the balcony pretending to watch Elvis in “Love Me Tender” I touched the breast of a young woman (not the aforementioned Betsy) for the very first time (albeit on the outside of her blouse). Thus, I normally enjoy the old theater but this night it was hot, about 85 degrees and it was jammed with people who paid two cans of food and 5$ to get in. I had dropped Linda and mom in front of theater. Mom had taken all the cans and a sign at the door said “two cans and 5$ or 10$. I fumbled, can-less, in my wallet looking for a ten. All I had was a couple twenties. Should I grab a ten for change? No, I thought. It’s Christmas and a good cause. All this time, Sanford was, unnoticed by me, standing quietly watching me, waiting as per mom’s instruction to him to tell me which direction to go to find them. I was so glad I didn’t pull a ten out of the jar. Many of the patrons in the seats appeared to be clients of the Volunteers of America. Hesitant to make comments about the personal hygiene of others I can only report that halfway through the show Linda had to excuse herself due to heat and odor prostration. Luckily at my end of the row the scent of Listerine dominated.

Excitement was in the air. A hyped up emcee was, dare I say, warming the crowd as we arrived, announcing that the show would be web cast live around the world but especially to our boys and girls in Baghdad and Afghanistan. It was at this point that I detected that there was an unusual admixture of Christmas and Patriotism being stirred in the Historic Everett Theater. The show began on time. Unheard of for a Sanford show. But, the boys and girls in Baghdad were waiting. We began with a navy color guard and the Pledge of Allegiance. Then Dehner Franks played a jazzy medley of America the Beautiful, Star Spangled Banner and other patriotic songs. Sanford had flown Dehner in from Los Vegas where he is performing in the Galleria Bar at Caesar’s Palace. He’s a heck of a piano player. Dehner's latest CD
The next performer was an opera singer named Victor Benedetti. I don’t think Sanford had to fly him in from anywhere as the ebullient emcee said Victor was living in the Northwest. Read Victor's bio. Victor was world class. Next was Ivyann Schwan all five feet of her. Ivyann has reportedly been one of Sanford’s protégés since age nine. She’s now twenty-one but still looks about sixteen. Check out Ivyann's films. She was wearing a beauty queen dress and had an attitude. A bad attitude. She was complaining to the emcee that she’d done the show four years and only had one solo in this year’s show. After her whining was over she sat our forty-fiveish looking emcee on a chair and proceeded to sing an intentionally sexually provocative rendition of Santa Baby while getting off and on the guy’s lap. Since she did look way younger than twenty-one the effect was a bit on the icky side. She did have a good voice.

To this point, it was a pretty nice Christmas Pageant. Kind of ho hum, but entertaining and well-performed. I started to get nervous. Was it possible that Sanford was going to do a straight up show only slightly confused by the Patriotic Theme which required a large group of firemen and policemen to sit in a clump near the front of the auditorium? Since 911, of course, firemen and policemen are always included in Patriotic Themes.
Finally, I was rewarded. Anna Stovall was introduced. I recognized Anna immediately. She had been a surprise addition at the grand opening of Dorothy Jayne Studio and had performed a Gypsy Dance in bare feet with her dark blond hair streaming down her back. As I recall she also sang some Russian folk songs and was quite charming. But now Anna burst on to the stage remade, or made over, into someone’s vision of a glamorous cabaret singer. Her hair was up pulled into a kind of a cone shape. Her neck was long. Her dress a bold red with sequins and cut above the knee in front, long in the back, in what I am told is the Spanish syle. The dress was skin tight and the reveal in the front exposed a dancer’s legs.
On her shoulders she wore a white capelette (my experts agree it was a capelette and not a shrug) of fur or possibly feathers. We were too far back to tell. An enormous, showy paste necklace and matching earrings flashed in the light of the follow spot. On her feet she wore red, closed-toed shoes, rather pedestrian except for the four inch heels. Anna is a tall girl and in her spectacular, if incongruous costume, she made quite a presentation.

With Dehner Franks (who you will recall had been flown in) on the keyboard Anna launched into what I believe was a Cole Porter number. Not a Christmas song at all and not on the program. My guess is that Sanford had heard her sing it and wanted to hear it again. Then, a Christmas song with a basa nova beat. I believe that Anna is primarily a dancer and she moved as she sang. Yet it appeared that she was moving with some care leading Linda to speculate that the shoes, which Linda thought ought to have been a bit lighter and let’s say “strappy” might not have fit quite right. After Anna’s third number I could see why Ivyann was pissed about the one solo. After all, Ivyann has been in two movies and has done the pageant for four years. Clearly, Anna was the flavor of the month and must be a favorite of both Sanford and Olga Foraponova. Not only did she get three solos but then Victor came out and he and Anna, bravely on her part, sang together. And I believe what they sang was called “Christmas Time in Everett” which possibly was made famous by Johnny Mathis, or...someone else.

I have noticed that there is a habit among emcees when trying to elicit applause from an audience to holler “Show some love!” During the band’s solos Anna morphed into an emcee and in my favorite part of the entire evening said, “Come on...geeve some luff!” She did this with the total self-assurance of a performer confident in her talent. She required that we, the audience, “geeve some luff!” several times. The show dribbled to a conclusion with The Everett Chorale, directed by a fellow whose son was in Baghdad watching the show on the web, singing a collection of some of the lamer Christmas songs, a complete anticlimax after Anna who reappeared with the entire cast for a finale. I noted that short, little Ivyann stayed as far away  as she could from Anna who with the hairdo and heels was topping six feet.

Mom was invited to the post show party at the Dorothy Jane Studio so we hurried to the car and drove through the fog down toward the old train station near where Olga’s facility is located. We found a great parking place and staked a claim to a table close to the door which I knew I would want to use when Sandy started thanking people. We had some food and watched some dancers. Olga, with babe on hip, had greeted us when we arrived. Anna came in still wearing the red dress and headed straight for the food table. Ivyann, arrived in more casual clothes and stood near a pillar nuzzling her boyfriend. The ebullient emcee met and greeted. A young Russian dancer strode purposely back and forth. Dehner appeared with his mom and dad. Olga took the mike and pitched her upcoming events (New Years Eve party, a Russian Christmas Party and Valentines Day) and then showed us a video of her and her partner winning the National Smooth event. Sanford wandered back and forth whispering additional items into Olga’s pretty ear. Sanford took the mike. I began pushing my chair back. Linda said, “Hold on there, buddy. Wait just a minute.”

Sanford called the entire cast to come forward plus Dehner’s elderly parents. Dehner’s mom, a cute, tiny woman of perhaps seventy-five years was wearing a funny hat. Sanford asked her if she wanted to say anything about Dehner, who had been flown in from Las Vegas. “I love him and think he’s smart,” she said conclusively. Sanford talked about his cast and their contribution and how he couldn’t have done the Christmas Spectacular without them. “This is getting boring,” I said. But Linda again said, “Wait.” And it was then that we received our reward. We were Sanfordized.

Everyone, I suppose had their own ideas about what is appropriate to a theme. I, for example, don’t see how a number from an Italian opera or a Cole Porter tune exactly fits with Christmas or how we honor the troops plus the cops and firemen with Christmas music from the Historic Everett Theater where I once, long ago, was able to touch a small boob. But Sanford sees how this fits together. Likewise, when one is marketing a dance studio at a special after show party, hyping lessons and grand events, competitions and custom designed costumes, I don’t see how a short film called, I think, "The Last Man Standing," by a twenty-four year old filmmaker from Everett whose dad is also a doc and who, along with the young man’s mother were dragged forward to attest to their love and pride for their child, fits into the theme of the party. Sanford sees these things. The lights dimmed again and we were treated to this fourteen minute film about two nerdy guys who end up being the last two males on the planet and have to compete for a certain lady by dancing. Well, there was dancing. So, that must have been the connection. And the film did recently win an award at the Silverlake Film Festival in Los Angeles which is where the young guy was before Sanford flew him in for the party and the special showing of his film.

But what do I know about shows and pageants? One could say that it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to put one on. But, maybe it does.

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I hope you'll be attending again this year :)

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