Community
Playhouse
presents:
Photos by
Stephen West
Story by
Trina Hess
Honky Tonk Woman
 My first experience performing in
the Oil City Honky Tonk show wasn’t
just funny. It showed me what good
humor can do for us. As a humorist
speaker I am used to being in
control. In my own shows, I am the
writer, director, producer, caterer,
costume designer and chauffeur.
But to be a part of the Honky Tonk, I
had to jump into the swirling waters
of community creativity.  
Humor is all about building a sense
of community.  We built the stage
together, and we tore it down
together. We offered suggestions
and ideas.  And we valued others’
opinions. We had a shared goal:  
Create a 2-hour show that is
entertaining.  And if it’s also funny,
that’s a bonus.    
Trina Hess is a self-described
author, humorist speaker and
second fiddle.
Visit her website (click)
With such a diverse group of creative minds, there was little room for rules. If someone had an
idea, we'd try it.  We'd change it. We'd incorporate it. Or we'd throw it out altogether. This was
a different world for me. In my world of comedy, I am in control. In the Honky Tonk, no one
was in control. It was a Petri dish of creative chaos.
My wardrobe consultants were the other actors. At each rehearsal, I tried
a new outfit, asking for advice. “Does this look like it’s from the 60’s? Or
the 70’s?” Most of the time the answer was:  “It doesn’t matter—if people
really experienced the 60’s they won’t remember what anyone wore
anyway.”  It seemed that any combination of colors that didn’t make it
into the spectrum of visible light qualified as fashion back then.  
We all searched every thrift store we could find, looking for additions to
our own costumes, and ideas for others. I love when things just work out
perfectly. Like finding silver go-go boots at Salvation Army the day before
our first show--in my size. I even found some John Lennon-style blue
Deb Mitchell
and Gary Dittman
sunglasses that same day. Unfortunately they were prescription, so by
the end of the medley I was nauseous and dizzy. So my role of hippie
must have seemed pretty credible. Who needs Stella Adler when you’ve
got double vision to improve your acting skills?    
My best memories will be the ad lib skills of my fellow cast members. Gayle Boocks and Gary Dittman helped
me save my Goldie Hawn skit and turn it into something funnier than we had rehearsed. That’s the best part of
being in an ensemble cast. The audience can’t tell whether we made a mistake or whether we meant to do that.
Director Roger Baker (from left), Gale Boocks, Clay Campbell,Carol Krawlec, Mary Jane Buzzard, Fay Trimble
and Sherry Switzer  sang "Consider Yourself" and "Do You Remember These?"
Jeff Smith, Doug Kennedy, Amber Kellogg,
Deb Hardy and Tammy Schwab wonder,
"Why Do Fools Fall In Love?"
At times, I was surprised at where the audience chose to laugh. We had
all been so focused during our song and dance numbers that we didn’t
realize how funny we actually looked in our hippy costumes. When we
walked onstage singing, “If You’re Going to San Francisco,” I didn't
expect the reaction we got from the audience. We were serious actors!  
We were singing a serious, lilting and moving song!  After all, at
rehearsals, no one laughed. We were focused on our places, our words,
our next moves. Especially in our bell-bottoms and tie-dyed shirts. We
were focused on our goal. We were so focused we almost transgressed
another tenet of humor:  avoiding perfectionism and control.
 During the show and rehearsals, I had fun going back in time. Short skirts, false eyelashes,
tie-dyed tee-shirts. It made me really miss third grade. Our props department was chock-full
of more options for our costumes. I found random items from 50 years of the theater's
history. I even found a lifesaver for our “Love Boat” song! And, now I know where I can
unload all the junk in my garage. Surely they can write a play that requires a broken air
conditioner and a styrofoam Halloween jack-o-lantern.