The Ticket Stub

I found the ticket stub as I was cleaning out the junk drawer in my nightstand. The words, “Jones Beach Theater” were faded, but still readable on the back of the yellowed stub. A smile crept across my face.

“Well, how long have you been hiding here?” I said aloud. My mind drifted to an earlier time in my life, when I lived in New York. “The Jones Beach Theater…”

Jones Beach is a barrier island off the coast of Long Island, near where I grew up. When I was young, the outdoor marine theater used to have summer shows - mostly musicals. 

It was a magical place to see a show. The theater was located on Zach’s Bay, with the stage floating on the water. Stadium seating provided great views from any location, even for a small child. The actors walked across ramps or utilized boats to carry them to center stage. The productions were brilliantly choreographed to suit the venue. It was a fairytale-like experience to see a Broadway caliber production amid a star-studded sky.

My parents used to get my sisters and I tickets to whatever musical was on stage that summer. We were born different years, but all in July, and so we could count on a summer show to be a collective birthday present. I remember seeing “The Sound of Music,” “The King and I,” and “Annie Get Your Gun,” but there were probably other shows we saw there as well.

I was disappointed when the powers-that-be decided to stop the musical theater productions, and use the Zach’s Bay venue for concerts, instead. It made sense cost-wise, I’m sure.  They had a stage, and superior sound system already in place. But still, it was not the same.

I gently rubbed my thumb over the words “Jones Beach Theater” on the stub as I reminisced.

Turning the ticket stub over, I strained to read the obverse side. In faded black ink, I could make out two names: “LIZA MINNELLI / M. HAMLISCH.”

“Hahaha.” I laughed aloud, my mind traveling back through time. “I remember you!”

The Liza Minnelli concert.  It was the only concert I had ever attended at the Jones Beach Theater.

I was a teenager - too old for Disneyesque shows. At least that’s what my adolescent mind told me. My parents, I suppose, were trying to bring back the magic, knowing how I had enjoyed the shows at Zach’s Bay when I was younger. They figured a concert at Jones Beach would be a treat for me and my then-boyfriend. So for my birthday, I received two tickets to Liza’s concert. 

Unfortunately, my boyfriend had a prior commitment for the date of the show, so I reverted to plan B. I didn’t mind; my substitute date was fine. Besides, I don’t think my boyfriend was dying to see Liza Minnelli anyway. 

It might be more fun to go with someone who actually liked her, I reasoned. As for me, I was pretty neutral. Liza was okay, but I wouldn’t have gone to any great lengths to see her. On the other hand, my parents were right. I really did enjoy the musical shows at Zach’s Bay when I was younger, so I was looking forward to see how they handled a concert.

***

The day of the concert arrived. It had been cloudy most of the day. Rain was in the forecast, so we brought light rain jackets with us. At the last minute, I threw a hat in the pocket of my coat, just in case. Under the theory that if you are prepared for rain, it won’t rain, we drove to Jones Beach. We weren’t too focused on the weather, being determined not to let anything spoil the evening. After parking, and walking to the outdoor theater, we found our seats. At precisely 8 pm, the lights on the stage turned on and out came Liza and the band. 

I remember that Liza was a bundle of energy, welcoming a filled-to-capacity audience. This was her first concert after a stint at the Betty Ford clinic, a rehab facility. She was excited and her enthusiasm was infectious. The show soon started, but – and for once, the weathermen were correct - so did the rain. At first it wasn’t too bad, and she kept singing. We were prepared for some rain, so it didn’t bother us…too much.

But the rain soon worsened; we were getting quite wet in the open-air venue. After a short while, the rain became torrential. The band, and Liza, temporarily left the stage. We weren’t sure if they were going to cancel the concert or if they were coming back out to perform. I looked over, but my date didn’t move. I was drenched, secretly hoping they would cancel, or at least re-schedule the concert. People started to leave. We stayed.

I could hear thunder. There’s no way, with all the electrical equipment, they could continue, I thought. But I was wrong. The thunder sounded distant, and maybe it stopped, but the rain didn’t. Buckets of water were pouring down on our heads now. 

Liza appeared back on stage. Was she even wearing a rain jacket? My memory fails me.

“Hey, everyone,” she yelled into the microphone. “You’re still here! Well, so am I! You’re not quitting on me. And I won’t quit either. Not as long as there is a single person in the audience.” 

People cheered. At least those who remained. I was so over this concert, but concealed my misery. My date was smiling, laughing, enjoying. I couldn’t ruin it for him, especially since I dragged him out on a night like this. So I clapped, too.

Soaking wet, we endured the rest of the concert. Liza did not cut out a single planned song. I give her credit for that, although at the time, I was wishing she would. When the concert finally ended, we raced back to the safety of the car. It wasn’t hard to find. Most of the cars and their occupants were long gone.

We were soaked to the bone. I don’t think we could have been more water-logged if we had jumped into the bay. Puddles formed on the vinyl seats as we buckled our seatbelts, and water pooled by our feet. It was all so ridiculous, we both burst out laughing as we left the Jones Beach parking lot.

“So, how’d you like the concert?” I asked, still chuckling.

“UGH, I’m so glad it’s over,” Dad replied, shivering slightly. 

 “What?? I only stayed because you looked like you were enjoying it so much,” I said, dumb-struck.

“Same here,” Dad answered, glancing in my direction. And we laughed all the way home.