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A BRIEF HISTORY OF COLD SOUP
In the beginning there was soup.
Somewhere between the Federalist Theatre of the Great
Depression and the “free speech zones” of the Bush Depression, Cold Soup was
born.
We were conceived in the heat of anti-war politics and the
need to vent the rampant Bush Derangement Syndrome, so common amongst our
friends. Our first major effort was, “The Long-awaited, Much Anticipated,
Carlrove Goes to Hell.” In case the real Karl Rove noticed, we could deny it
was him that we really wanted to send to hell.
Along the way, we covered “Hunting with Dick Cheney,”
“Guarding the Queen (two rifle wielding hippies guarding a fourteen-foot
sensemellia plant), Beckett, Austin, Murat/Sade, Monte Python, and an original
take on Frankenstein (except our
monster wore a giant potato suit). The Scottish play’s witches made an
appearance as environmental harbingers, and we attempted to demonstrate the
French Revolution with a chopped head of cabbage as King Louie. West
Side Story was reprised by oldsters on walkers, and Maria danced under our
street light.
Staged efforts, or stuff we had a script for, were rare. We
started out with more spoken word performers including Alice Lovelace, Rupert
Fike, Theresa Davis, Betty Ann Wylie, Deb Hiers, Priscilla Smith, Tony “Paleo
Poet” Martin, and Stefen Miko.
Stuff we had a script for was performed by the likes of Joe
Kelly, Bob Watkins, Madeline Saint Romain, Greg LoCorto, Melanie Von West to
name many. In 2008, Clay Spurz brought full-time music, with real
amplification. Craig Rafuse did the “dead” and joined us as a shooting star.
Along with these folks came the dancers Mariann Sanderson and Lori Teague.
Most performed on a front porch stage of about six square
feet before an abundant audience of 25. Donna (Kitchen Goddess) Rutherford
dished a wide variety of cold soups and sweet desserts that would make your
pancreas say “howdy.” Lesly Fredman directed this maelstrom of talent and sang
like a bird. And I, the Shit-Hammer of Sophomoria, dropped the Cold News.
To date, we’ve developed fans. We haven’t gotten
underwear with house keys thrown at us,
yet, but over the decade we’ve overcome obscurity, self censorship, and
Homeland Security. Mission Acomplished.
