Recap: Good Morning, From Here, April 12 – 18
Monday
The Vallarta Botanical Garden is just 20 years old, barely around long enough to raise one good-sized tree, yet it has won every major award possible in our entire continent. Going up against revered Gardens like Butchart’s outside of Victoria on Vancouver Island, which has flourished for over a hundred years. And some pristine Gardens in the US that receive so much government funding they cannot spend it all.
What’s the secret? A considerable vision and passion on the part of the founders, Bob Price and his mom, Betty (RIP), and magical ground. You would have a hard time believing the “before” pictures of this vast lushness.
Patrice, Sandra Bradley, and I piled onto the bus Saturday morning for the ride south. We need rain!
For the first time in the past two decades, the sunflowers were blooming just for us. They were spectacular! Soaring over our heads but remain only for another week or so, according to Curator Bob. When they begin to lose their glory, they will be cut down and left for the birds and deer to consume what they want and need. Bob said they were planted from seed in November.
We had lunch on the terrace – pizza, tortilla soup, avocado salad, and superb coconut cheesecake with vanilla ice cream made on-site from homegrown ingredients – and planned our afternoon walk and photo shoot. Bob joined us for a few minutes and told us where we could find the Jade Vine Sandra had first seen when she was in Vietnam. Another first bloom for me.
There is a new bus stop almost directly across from the Garden entrance with seating and roofed with palm fronds. It is bigger, more comfortable and easier to get to than the old one. Thanks, Farmer Bob, as always, for your warm hospitality and hugs.
After a rejuvenating nap, Patrice and I joined the full house at Coco Cabaret for Boys on Fire in their fourth season. This was their best show to date, featuring a passel of Superheroes ripped straight (whoops!) out of comic books and movies. Some I knew – Spiderman, Superman, and Robin – but I did not know others, like Wolverine and the story behind him and his nemesis. The Boys on Fire, five lusciously strong, perfect bodies capable of enormous strength moves and agility on rope and silks, kept us captivated for over an hour.
Led and choreographed by Coco co-owner Sebastian Coronel from Argentina, the Boys have captured our attention through travel, tango, sexual fantasies, and more over the last four years. This fun look at DC and other comic book characters will be hard to beat.
Boys on Fire is hosted beautifully by the best naturally funny emcee in Vallarta, Nacho Granados (another Argentine), who keeps the performance hopping in two languages. Catch his show every Friday at La Catrina Cantina at 8 pm called “On Demand.” His voice is exceptional, again in two languages, and his patter in English is hilarious and adorable.
Join me tomorrow to review Sargento Dan’s penultimate performance of “Mentiras” From Here.
Tuesday
The annual MAC Awards (Manhattan Association of Cabarets and Clubs) concluded last week in New York City. How fun to read the list of winners and recognize three of them from their performances this season in Vallarta: Nicolas King (Major Artist), Tracy Stark (Best Song), and Nathalie Douglas (Major Recording). Previous Mac winners David Sabella and Musical Director Mark Hartman live here full- and part-time, respectively. Congratulations to everybody; we impatiently await your return!
Speaking of impatience – we have to wait another month before the last show of The Men-Ti-Ras Experience, starring Sargento Dan at Nacho Daddy, happening May 18.
The brainchild of Sargento, who figured out how to condense and modify Mexico’s longest-running – 16 years and counting! – Jukebox Musical into a one-man show that made sense (the plot line is, um, complicated and convoluted), and translate it into English and sometimes export it in Spanglish.
And, let’s throw in a sex-change just to add to the intrigue and chuckles and then make it a Tribute to the Sacredness of All Women for the finale. (The caps are mine.)
Any sensible artist would walk away from such a formidable task, but Sargento was adamant, and theater-goers should get tickets for the last show before they evaporate.
Not quite a year ago, Sargento gave us a taste of Mentiras at Casa Karma as a work in progress that has gone from zero to sixty in that time with learned input from coaches Rob Burton and Jan Dorland. A funny aside – the three of them met in Mexico City last September and went to see the production together. In Spanish, but at least it gave Rob and Jan the visuals they needed to help Sargento achieve his lofty vision.
In the Men-Ti-Ras Experience, Sargento plays four women all in love with the same man, Emmanuel, who conveniently never appears onstage. Sargento cleverly created four life-size color-coded lighted mannequins on wheels, each wearing a matching colored jacket to portray the characters.
If that is not enough, the play takes place primarily in a funeral home where the four women gather for the first time, and a message is read from the recently deceased Emmanuel accusing one of the women of – yup, you guessed it – murder. Sargento cannot pronounce the word correctly in English, which makes murder very funny, indeed. And, there is a great deal of money from Emmanuel’s estate that can be split among the three remaining loved ones if they can figure out whodunnit.
Sargento sings Mexican pop songs from the 70s and 80s when he is not explaining the plot line in English.
It is a 90-minute tour de force monologue set to live music, with laughter popping out of the audience about every two minutes on average. Sargento can do more with his facial expressions and body language than Marcel Marceau and Red Skelton combined.
Get your tickets as soon as Nacho Daddy reopens after their Easter break.
Mister Lady Zen is at the Palm Cabaret tomorrow at 9 pm, singing their songs, house music and spinning their tales as only Zen can. A classically trained mezzo-soprano and natural storyteller, actor, activist, and lover of cats, Zen is mesmerizing in concert. See you there, and Garbo’s afterward for Sargento’s Broadway singalong, From Here.
Wednesday
Humpday, middle of the week, and only a few days left to play with my baby sister Patrice before she flies back to Canada for the summer on Easter Sunday. One of our rituals – and we have created many specific for Mexico – includes the Tuesday tianguis in Coapinole (what a haul yesterday!) and breakfast at Langostinos. We nearly always have vegetarian omelets but change the assorted peppers to chile poblano. The staff is obliging, friendly and makes us feel at home. What a place to people-watch!
I have had my darling kitty Humphrey Bogart, aka “Bogie,” for 11 months today. He has been a challenge in so many ways because he is far smarter than me, but I think Patrice and I have “Bogie-trapped” the patio to be escape-resistant. Stay tuned for updates!
We had a delicious, very early dinner at Let’s Pho, Charlie Huynh’s Vietnamese Restaurant on Lazaro Cardenas last night, preceding the Gay Mixer that started at 6 pm. The coconut and curry with vegetables and rice were delicately more coco-y than curry, for which I was grateful. Patrice and I shared that with green beans stir-fried with garlic and onions. Of course, we saved room for carrot cake and were happy to share the enormous slab that came to the table; it is, without question, the best carrot cake on the planet.
Jerry Jones, editor of Out & About Puerto Vallarta magazine, arrived early to set the stage for the Gay Mixer and his talented photographer, Oscar Almeida. Jerry joined us briefly as we caught up on the last two weeks since the last Gay Mixer at the Browne Gallery downtown. We chatted with a few guys we met then, one of whom is returning to the States today. See you in November! These mixers are tremendously helpful for the restaurants to show off samples of their food and cocktails and for everyone to see and be seen. They are the new Rizo’s happenings!
One of the beautiful people we saw was French Canadian Drag Queen Johnny Naoufal, aka Miss Butterfly, who scolded me for not getting to any of her shows. Guess what? I’ll be at Coco’s to see your finale after I get Patrice to the airport!
Let’s Pho owner, Charlie, was in his pristine chef’s jacket – as he says, for show only. Charlie is bound for his home country today for a month’s stay. He’ll be joined there next week by Mikel Alvarez, owner of the wildly popular Med Spa ThrIVE. Also spotted in the crowded room was Stud’s Bar owner Mike Owens and Out & About Magazine’s advertising sales rep, Gerwin Rutten. Our dear friend Brian Bott showed up with flowers for Charlie, who likely passed the bouquet on to his Corgi service dog – it was her birthday.
The rest of today begins with the gym, then Scrabble at Qulture, Angeloo at La Catrina Cantina, and Mister Lady Zen at the Palm, followed by Sargento Dan at Garbo’s. See you everywhere From Here.
Thursday
Angeloo is a twelve-year-old wunderkind, a winner of the So, You Think You Can Rise? Talent contest a bit over a year ago. He started out singing at Open Mic at Incanto and can be found around town singing where and when he can. He does have school. His dad Oscar is with him always, taking care of him, of course, but letting him do his thing without parental interference. Angeloo can seemingly sing any song in any language. His awkwardness on stage has dropped away with time and budding maturity. His personality is bubbling to the surface, and I wonder which way he will lean as he grows up. He has Mozart down pat and follows a Magic Flute aria with Metallica, and it’s okay! Without question, Angeloo is adored in Vallarta; there is nothing not to love!
From La Catrina Cantina, where we feasted on french fries and popcorn, Patrice and I walked over to The Palm for Mister Lady Zen’s last show in Vallarta for the season. Zen is constantly reinventing itself. Their poetry rivals those brilliant poets of our past and sometimes blows by, slipping into heavy rap, sometimes in the same poem. One must listen. Zen never wastes words when she writes or when she speaks – all of them count in equal measure; nothing is extraneous.
Last night for “Don’t Stop the Music,” Zen’s band had bassist Jared Garcia Gonzalez as Musical Director alongside Edgar Bernache on keys and Hamlet, percussion – three of Vallarta’s finest musicians.
At the beginning of the show, we were treated to a music video made by DuChateau Films with cameos of Kevin Anthony, Kimberly LaRue, Cassandra Shaw, Richard Carnegie, and other Vallarta VIPs. A lot of fun was had making it; that was clear!
A standing ovation was in order, bestowing the respect and love our community has for Lady Zen in all their fascinating aspects. The horizon is shiny and bright with great expectations – a new side business, a new album debuting, and so much more. Don’t stay away long, Zen, please!
Patrice and I were at Garbo’s minutes after Sargento had launched into his first Broadway number. We literally pushed our way through the standing-room-only crowd that started at the entrance to the bar, found Rob and Jan, with whom we are having dinner this evening, said our goodbyes and congratulations for the sellout crowd, and made our way home. Who knew Sargento had the star power to create such a fuss late on a Wednesday night during Semana Santa in Vallarta? As my dear and worthy Scrabble opponent, Sharon Gerber Scherer would undoubtedly say to that: “Mazeltov!” From Here.
Friday
Happy Easter, everybody! I hope the Big Bunny leaves you loads of yummy chocolate treats and that your bonnet wins a prize at lunch, and if you are brunching somewhere fabulous, you have tons of mimosas to wash everything down.
Traffic is heavy, as is the rule on our narrow streets during any holiday, and the buses drop people off at Casa Ley’s and have them walk into Centro from there. Patrice flies back to Calgary on Sunday, so we will allow extra time to get to the airport. She is a flight angel for a number of lucky doggies headed for a new life in Canada; another reason to get to the airport in good time.
Last night, Rob Burton and Jan Dorland drove Patrice and me north to Abbraccio’s for dinner. It took a good ten minutes to peruse the extensive, beautifully put-together Italian food menu. We sat out on the quiet, unairconditioned patio and spent close to three hours laughing and talking, oddly enough, about food and, most importantly, food in our childhoods.
We all grew up in Canada – Patrice and I in Calgary, Rob in Winnipeg and Jan in Chatham, Ontario. The strangest memories, popped out of our mouths from 50 to 70 years ago – we remembered details of crisp evenings on Halloween, and from Jan – of the air being redolent with the smell of tomato soup. Campbell’s had a factory in Chatham. Rob laughed about stealing crabapples in his neighborhood when he was ten and recalled that because Winnipeg was so cold, real apples never had a chance to grow to proper size.
I remembered someone putting a pea pod in my hand and proudly pronouncing it came from their garden. I didn’t know what it was and asked what the bright green thing was and was shocked to learn peas were that color. I grew up eating gray canned peas swimming in liquid. That story hit a nerve in Rob, who remembers the taste of canned peas being mashed into Shephard’s pie and freely admits that he still loves them.
My sister mentioned rhubarb, which unleashed stories of ripping off stalks while skulking through the alleys of our youthful neighborhoods, eating it raw and unwashed but dipped in paper cones full of sugar, sweet rhubarb pies from me, and strawberry rhubarb pie from Jan, who says he used to make a mean one, and all of us agreed that stewed rhubarb was fantastic, with dinner or afterward for dessert.
As we shared a delectable tiramisu, we spoke of lilacs, with each of us remembering that sweet, rather spicy intoxicating fragrance that is a sure sign of a Canadian summer and seeing the beauty of those trees in various colors, gently moving in breezes that could bring snow at any minute but for a deep inhale everything was right with the world. Funny the things we miss in our exuberant tropical climate that is swarming with sensual aromas. But a lilac is from there, not From Here.
