Not Shangri-La, but Harrodsburg.



Once upon a time, there were a group of people known as "Boonies."

They would come together in a centrally located city in Kentucky, to tell the story of one of the greatest explorers of early America, Daniel Boone.

The above photograph is a photograph I took recently, on a sojourn through my past.  I had to actually sneak in to the amphitheatre; apparently, they had a small production running, but the theatre was closed up, and I knew a secret entrance through the adjoining Fort Harrod.

The place is showing its age, alas.....they haven't really been big on the upkeep.  The area that was once an indoor "blackbox" theatre is now a conference center.

But I've always felt that this particular place, as with all outdoor theatres that run historical drama, have certain....magical properties.

For example....upon entering the space, all the sound around....dimmed.....significantly.

And in that silence, I heard allllll the voices.

I laughed out loud as I recalled the now infamous "Shatner Night."  It was a game that was supposed to be played by the more.....experienced...members of the company.  We were by no means bored with the performance, but we wanted to be able to keep it fresh by trying to provide thinking elements into the run.

We each had to do one line as James T. Kirk, with all the pauses, and radical changes in tempo included.  And we had to do it so well, that only the people who were playing the exercise would know.

Because if you got caught doing such a thing, you could be on the hook for what was called, "Unprofessional Conduct," and you could be fined a days salary.

Well, it started fine.

And then the damned thing blew up.

Somehow, word began to spread that we were playing this game, and everybody wanted to try their hands....but it blossomed beyond "a line as Kirk" into "Ad-libbing madly on a Star Trek theme."

The Indians were showing up with Trek Insignia applied to their war paint.  In fact, for some reason, they appeared in one scene in a transporter circle.

Everybody seemed to be flashing the Vulcan salute.

One of my favorites:  "These pants sure do Kling On, don't they?"

Yeah.  We got caught.

I would tell the story of the night that the actor playing Boone got kicked in the head and was taken to the hospital at intermission; and the understudy wasn't even CLOSE to knowing the lines; but was so very arrogant, he thought he could pull it off.

In the modern parlance:  Epic Fail.

Seriously....we did a forty five minute second act in 22 minutes.

Good times.

It's good that the old place is still in use; but sadly, the living accommodations, lovingly called Boone Manor, has disappeared.  Replaced by a Mobile Home park.  And not one of the really NICE Mobile Home parks.

But I have my memories.

And that picture.

So.

That's something.