I'm A Believer

It's only right I spent Sunday seeing a play about how we define belief.

It was opening day for Theater Lab's "Riding the Bull" at Gallery 5 and as such, we got pie and musical entertainment beforehand.

Sweet Fern, aka Allison and Josh, sat down on bales of hay and proceeded to sing us songs of love and jail.

It was an ideal way to set the mood for August Schulenburg's play about a devout rodeo clown (and champion masturbator) and a heathen rancher.

Director Sarah Roquemore announced that it was the one-year anniversary of TheaterLab's inception, no small feat for a fledgling company with bigger dreams than budget.

She also reminded us (actually, them) to, "Turn off all cell phones, pagers and devices. You probably don't have pagers, but this play takes place in the '90s, so maybe you do."

Hell, I was the last person they had to worry about.

The play was staged in the center of the room with chairs along one side and on the stage.

A few brave souls even sat on bales of hay for the duration.

Set in Godsburg, Texas, the play began with a rant about fat people by rodeo clown G.L., played disarmingly and ferociously by Deejay Gray.

He made so many cracks about fat people that I began to feel uncomfortable about the feelings of the overweight people in the audience.

Enter hell-raising and fat Lyza, played by Maggie Bavolack, in padding, a shapeless jean jumper and cowboy boots.

He's a devout Catholic who can't keep his hands off himself (even in the confessional) and she's an irreverent hedonist, smart and funny.

G.L. isn't bright enough to realize his shortcomings. "That's why girls are scared of marrying me," he tells Lyza. "That and my big head."

The laughs came fast and furious in the first act as Lyza and G.L. gave in to their lust for each other.

At first G.L. is consumed with shame for his transgressions but the issue soon becomes that Lyza always calls out a man's name when she comes.

The pair soon figure out that she's predicting who will win the bull-riding competition the next day, setting off a lustful frenzy (8 or 9 times a day) and get-rich-quick scheme.

Before long, the dirt-poor G.L. is buying houses, offices and people and planning to build a Graceland-style house for his Elvis-obsessed mother.

Lyza spouts the ultimate truth of the play,"The truth is always better for pissing people off."

I don't care if she did dress up her cow and have a bull in love with her, that's a smart woman.

There was so much male/female bantering, so much sex and so many references to Jesus Christ and Elvis Presley in the first act that no one could have seen the seismic shift coming in the second act.

While G.L. has turned his back on faith in anything but the almighty dollar, Lyza has had visions of Jesus and has adopted the faith, going to church and reading the bible.

She didn't mention touching herself as much as G.L. used to do but for all intents and purposes, they have traded belief systems.

By the time he realizes (or maybe just says) that he loves her, it's of no matter to her because of who he's become.

"Life is short, but, man, is it wide," Lyza tells him, summing up the dilemma we all eventually have to acknowledge.

A two-actor play done in a small venue and in the round is no easy thing to pull off, but by the surprise ending, I doubt there was a person in the room who could see Deejay or Maggie as anything but two people caught up in a relationship with each other and their god.

Maggie was astonishingly physical in her role, coming down hard on that cement floor time and time again, tossing bales of hay around and throwing her legs in the air for the frequent lusty interludes.

Since I usually see her as the mild-mannered raffle ticket seller (as well as "the hand") at the Ghost Light Afterparty, it was a revelation seeing her as the lusty intellectual superior to the simple G.L.

And watching Deejay navigate the complicated waters of a simple man devoted to Jesus becoming comfortable with bad choices and non-stop sinning was a marked contrast to the sunny, upbeat person he is in real life.

And that's why they're actors and people like me spend sunny Sunday afternoons inside watching them depict other people.

That this young theater group is already capable of giving Richmonders such interesting theater is a testament to how lucky we are.

It was nice that with last night's lost hour, coming out of Gallery 5 at 6 p.m. meant the sun was still sunny and warmish.

As a friend had mentioned while in the bathroom line at intermission, "We can see a great play and still have a whole night to do something!"

For me, that something was chow down and preferably right away before Mama J's Kitchen closed for the night.

I knew if I could just get there by 6:45, they'd be kind enough to serve me even though they close at 7 on Sundays.

It is, after all, god's day, at least to some people.

I got a seat at the bar immediately but the bartender was going in a dozen directions, so I just sat quietly and scanned the chalkboard listing the cake flavors.

Eventually, she passed by me and said, "I seen you come in, baby. Just give me a minute."

As I told her, she could take all the time she needed as long as I got food at some point.

Not long after she took my order, I was joined by a smiling couple who seemed to want to talk.

Turns out they're from Colorado, although he's been working in Lynchburg on a job. She'd flown out yesterday to spend a few days with him.

I asked where she'd eaten so far.

"Millie's," she said, "I read about it online. Do you think it's overrated?"

Indeed I do, I told her. And pricey as the dickens.

She agreed. She'd also discovered Mama's online and one look at my plate of fried chicken, collard greens and corn muffin and she seemed sure she wasn't going to be disappointed again.

They'd gotten fried catfish, sweet potatoes and greens and with the arrival of their food, I gave them an insiders tip.

You need to scan the cakes now and order before what you want is gone, I told them.

They immediately ordered a piece of the strawberry cake, thanking me for the insider's tip.

The bartender nodded approvingly, telling them they were smart.

"You told them how to do it, didn't you?" she asked of me, smiling conspiratorially.

Somebody's got to school the Mama's virgins. No one should miss out on their first choice for cake because of ignorance.

My choice was chocolate cake with buttercream frosting, an old standard but one I never tire of.

Further conversation revealed that she and I shared the same name.

Karen challenged me to guess where her husband was from, saying, "I bet you don't know anybody who came from this state."

My first guess was Montana and she was visibly pleased. "You're really close, He's from Wyoming."

She was right. In all my years, I've never met a soul from Wyoming.

It sounds about as appealing as Godsburg, Texas.

Life may be wide, but I doubt I've got time for either...unless it's from a theater seat.