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A Runaway Chattanooga Choo-choo
There’s nothing like an idea that takes on a life of its own . . . unless, perhaps, one finds one’s self in the position of Victor Frankenstein, watching your realized idea running amok across the countryside. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle surely felt that way upon occasion, seeing what Sherlock Holmes became in the public consciousness, and this weekend Billy Fields got the chance to sympathize with that great man – in more ways than one. Not only did an off-hand joke by Billy wind up snowballing into a musical-comedy production, he also talked into playing Doyle in that same bit of after-dinner theater. But let me step back and give you the roundabout version of the whole business. This weekend was the Fourth Annual Gathering of Southern Sherlockians in Chattanooga. “Why Chattanooga?” as the good Carter asked me as we started the long drive down. “Well, because Kent Ross says so,” I told her. But after ascending Lookout Mountain, the peak beneath which Chattanooga rests, I found another reason that Southern Sherlockians would naturally gather there: Lookout Mountain commands a view of seven southern states, including all of those represented at the gathering. It’s a natural. And more than that, Chattanooga is as charming as so much of Tennessee, the sort of place where the mayor might come to dine with us one year and the delightful deputy mayor might visit us the next. It’s a place where you can find out just what all those “Visit Rock City” barns were all about. And it’s just the sort of place where a normally quiet scribe can be lulled into standing in front of a room full of people and belting out a song he’s been rehearsing since the sixth grade. Yes, there is magic in Chattanooga, and this weekend it was Sherlockian magic. On my first visit to the Gathering last year, I was pleasantly surprised at the openness of it, the give and take, and the pure warmth that comes out. The Gathering may run into a quirk or glitch on occasion, but it leaves me with a smile every time. On Saturday, for example, the program started strong with presentations by Carolyn Senter, Marilynne McKay, and Regina Stinson . . . a terrific trio of Sherlockian ladies if ever there was one, following that up with Southern Sherlockian favorite Kenneth Carr (one of the few Sherlockians I know with a catch-phrase), and dishing out fun and some damned insightful analyses at a brisk little pace. The program even finished a bit early, leaving time for a bit of rest, relaxation . . . and, for some, rehearsal. Which bring us back to Billy Fields. Billy is one fine and funny Nashville Scholar, and he once made a comment to Kent Ross that a gathering of Southern Sherlockians needed to have a production of “Hee-Haw Holmes,” combining our favorite hobby with the rustic version of “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In.” Billy, of course, was kidding. But you don’t kid Kent with an entertainment possibility for the Gathering. The next thing you know, word is spreading that the Nashville Scholars are going to do “Hee Haw Holmes” for the 2007 Gathering. It didn’t work out, the idea did get talked about, and in front of the wrong person: me . . . the kid who once got his church camp counselors to send him to tent-detention for continually singing “Whar, oh whar, are you tonight?” If “Hee-Haw Holmes” was going to happen anywhere, I had to be a part of it. Had to. And it seemed, I wasn’t alone in that. Bill Mason jumped in, and soon we found ourselves in Indianapolis divvying up script chores. I picked up some Hee Haw DVDs on Amazon to refresh my memory. And I even called in the equivalent of a nuclear strike when it comes to cornball Sherlockian humor – I borrowed the collected works of Mr. Robert C. Burr for pillaging and inspiration. Amazingly, the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle lend themselves quite easily to Nashville-based comedy. “The Culhanes of Cornfield County” inspired “The Baskervilles of Devon County.” Buck Owens and Roy Clark can be replaced by Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson without much resistance at all. And characters like Professor Presbury and Susan Cushing were just made to have some fun with. When some of the Nashville Scholars couldn’t make it at the last minute, we had to draft a few people to fill out our cast of eleven (and we even cut Tonga!). Here was the final cast list: Parker the Garroter . . . Jerome Boynton I didn’t visualize that last bit of casting when I volunteered to co-write the script with Bill, but I guess we have to pay for our own misdeeds. (I also got hit in the head with a rake, but that’s show biz.) The show got about as many groans as laughs, just to give you an idea of the level of humor we were at. The kazoo band performed well with no practice whatsoever, and most of our audience didn’t leave town immediately after the show. (Sam and Regina Stinson had to get as far away as Knoxville before they could stop fleeing, rumor has it.) Sunday morning, Joel Senter and David Milner finished up the Gathering’s speaker list after a quiz to get us in the mood for next year’s function, then the good Carter and I were off to Ruby Falls and Rock City, back to being non-Sherlockian tourists. I was tempted to take the Altamont exit to see what lay beyond it, but that will have to wait for another trip. You never know where Sherlockiana will take you. Your humble correspondent, Brad Keefauver P.S. Here's a couple of pics . . . .
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