Portland Center Stage Does Right By the Harlem Renaissance Musical
Somehow a Movie Starring Two Tom Hardys Ends Up Being Dull
While Portland parents are conferencing about whether to hand out organic, fair-trade chocolate bars or something more mentally enriching—like miniature Origami Kits—to trick-or-treaters this year, I am stressed about how to make a clear distinction between a Stevie Nicks costume and that of your prototypical witch.
Despite my strict childhood diet of spaghetti-os and Rumours on repeat, Stevie Nicks scared the shit out of me. I envisioned Fleetwood Mac as an ill-willed society of devil worshippers with Nicks as its sinewy leader; a growling woman clad in layers of black organza who sang songs about gypsies and witches and chains and never, ever smiled.
I had recurring nightmares in which Nicks was found strangling the hell out of The Little Mermaid (my musical idol at the time) after she sang "Rhiannon" off-key. Which almost totally happened in real life!
Anyways, now that I've finally overcome my fear of the Gold Dust Woman (after a mere 15 years and an hour-long episode of Behind The Music: Fleetwood Mac), I would like to be her for Halloween. But what if people think I'm just a boring witch who parked her broom out back? That's annoying. How does one make it obvious? Do I need a Lindsey Buckingham to beat on? A molehill of cocaine meant to be ingested rectally? Help!