Slide Show

Neither of us could believe the parking Friday night at the Ford Amphitheater: pockets of cars sourrounding the hillside like mountain goats on rocky outcroppings and stacked parking -- thankfully, we were one of the last cars to park so we wouldn't have to wait for other cars to move. Dodging people as they wandered without paying attention among the dozens of cars still vying for parking. Once we made it down up and down the hills, we faced the myriad steps to the entrance to the theater which resembled more of a castle with high, imposing walls and even more stone steps and stairwells. I stopped to use the restroom along the way so The Boyfriend waited in line for two bottles of water and a lukewarm, lukesoft pretzel (about $11.50 total). Then, up more steps and finally into the theater itself.

We stood in the doorway, scanning the almost full seats for anything that might be open and chanced upon two near the very back of the theater on the aisle. I didn't notice next to whom we were seated, but The Boyfriend recognized him from somewhere, though he didn't know his name. That summed up quite a bit of the audience: very recognizable faces but from where? TV? Movies? Porn? A woman walked by us, causing a small commotion. Tall, thick blonde hair, dark sunglasses in an already dim theater, a cup of something in one hand. She asked the ladies in front of us if the three seats next to her were open and moved on down the aisle. That's when we I whispered to The boyfriend, "Wasn't that Cybill Shepherd?" "Yes!" We watched her as she headed toward the front of the theater, crossing just in front of the stage, hugging a few people, then found some empty seats next to a woman with a sideways mullet: long on the right but close-cropped on the left. "I think that's one of the composers of 'The Color Purple'." He squinted, trying to get a better look. "Are you sure?" "I think so. I saw her on a special about the show." I squinted. "But I'm not sure."

The lights dimmed as a voice announced the world champion hula hoop-er who came out on stage and wowed us with his dancing. He had those hoops undulating up and down his body, his ankles, neck, wrists, forehead. He surrounded himself with almost twenty shiny silver hoops, disappearing in a blurr of colors, moving like a rhythmic gymnast across the stage. The audience went wild! After his bows, the screen at the center of the stage lit up, the organist tapped away at his Wurlitzer, and Charles Phoenix stepped onto the stage to take the audience on a nostalgiac trip around the United States via slides from the 40s, 50s and 60s. We saw everything from one of the original pop art Jack-in-the-Box restaurants to early Disneyland (when Tomorrowland represented the ultra-futuristic 1987) to the neon lights of Vegas casinos long gone. We joined in with family Thanksgivings, portraits with everyone decked to the nines in polyester or matching homemade dresses, a Hawaiian feast complete with Grandma bringing in the roast pig. The old White Front stores. McDonald's when it was still a drive-up with neon arches. Even some slides taken during the production of Cecil B. DeMille's The Ten Commandments with Charleton Heston standing on a bluff in front of a blue screen to part the Red Sea. Phoenix even made a heaping bowlfull of ambrosia -- complete with fruit chunks, whipped cream and hot dog bits -- and presented it to a delighted woman in the audience. We laughed. We oohed and aahed. And, I learned a new phrase which I've already overused: "Long Beach is the New Jersey of Los Angeles."

By 10:30pm, we managed to fight our way through the throng of theatergoers to find the car and headed to West Hollywood for a very late dinner.