Theatre Cats (Not Those Cats)
A fond remembrance of a brilliant musical number from Archy and Mehitabel
Maybe it was writing about comics. Or something else? But I caught an earworm of a sort; a memory of a song that I used to know. I thought about it, the human brain being a kinda remarkable thing, nearly all of it eventually came back.
Background
Archy and Mehitabel were characters created by Don Marquis while he was a columnist at the New York Sun in 1916. Archy was a cockroach who wrote stories for Marquis by leaping onto typewriter keys. (“Leave a sheet of paper in the typewriter, Boss.” Archie says in the album I’ll talk about.) The missives are all in lowercase, sans punctuation, because he can’t operate the shift key.
Mehitabel is an alley cat. She’s the star of the theatrical adaptations of Marquis’ stories. A “concept” album, Archy and Mehitabel was released (an LP (vinyl)) record in 1954, and it made its way into my life while I was living in Thailand.
We had a record player, typical of the era, and a tiny collection of LPs. The records included folk music (Burl Ives, Harry Belafonte, The Ink Spots), show tunes (L’il Abner, The King and I), some operas (my father’s effort to class up the joint), and a copy of Archy and Mehitabel. A record that I must have played over and over again because it remained tucked away in memory nigh onto 70 years later.
One song in particular stood out for me. It was on the B-side of the album, did not have a title, and was simply the song sung by the old theatre cat. In the stage adaptation of the recording with a book by Mel Books, he was renamed as
Tyrone T. Tattersall and played by David Carradine. On the original album, his name is Horace and David Wayne sings the part.
Following, is my recollection of the lyrics. If you want to check out my memory, I found that yes, the album has been pirate-recorded and is available on YouTube. I’ll provide a link and time to listen at the end.
The Old Theatre Cat’s Song
The theatre, the theatre
Its glory is fading away
(I’m missing a line right here)
They’re all businessmen I say
The artists are fading away
It's very, very clear
They haven’t got it here
(Tap chest with paw over heart)
They haven’t got it here ...
(Uptempo)
Oh I remember, the dear old days
of Jefferson, Modjeska, and Booth
those were the days of theatre
of artistry and truth
Oh I am one of the few that’s left
of the real old troupers I fear
They simply haven’t got it
They haven’t got it here
Oh I remember, the theatre
in the dear old days of yore
Those papered theatre cats today
can’t do it anymore
It's very, very, very, very
very, very clear
They simply haven’t got it!
They haven’t got it here!
(Verse)
I remember long ago
I was trouping in an Uncle Tom show
One of the bloodhounds
got real tight
and couldn’t go on that night
The theatre manager wrung his hand
and cried “What shall I do?”
I said, kind sir, please calm yourself
I’ve got the solution for you
I played a bloodhound
on the stage
So very passionate-ly
There were thirteen curtain calls
and twelve of them were for me
Would a theatre cat
in this puny age
Play a bloodhound
On the stage
(disdainful laugh – hah!)
(Spoken) They wouldn’t dream of it
They haven’t got it here!
They haven’t got it here!
No, no other cat could do it
They haven’t got it here!
(musical break – second verse)
One other night I was sitting
way up in the flies
Watching Joseph Jefferson
with adoring eyes
He was playing Rip Van Winkle
and what a Rip Van Winkle!
When suddenly before my horrified eyes
a tragedy ensued
Mr. Jefferson’s beard
fell off his chin
and he stood there with his face all nude
The audience gasped
and Jefferson blanched
When suddenly help appeared!
(Excited music – la, la la, la la la la la la)
I swung from the rafters
quick as sin
And I wrapped myself
around his chin
And I played Joe Jefferson’s beard
Yes, I played Joe Jefferson’s beard
No other cat could do it!
They’d never, never do it!
They haven’t got it . . .
Here!
(The last word ends with a gasp. The old trouper clutches his chest, staggers a bit, and collapses on the stage. The cast gathers around him in concern. The old theatre cat raises himself a little, looks out into the audience, and gasps out his last line.)
Applause.
For pity's sake, a little applause.
Coda
You can hear the music with David Wayne singing the part. If you check my memory against the original, you’ll find a few errors here and there, but not all that many. And hey, it was 70 years ago. Click here and go to 5:40 for the song.
Anon.
Ridge