Cancelled! Two hours prior to the Donny and Marie Osmond Show, my husband receives an email, which shares that the evening’s performance at the Flamingo Las Vegas has been cancelled. At first, I think my husband is joking, because he had just told me that while checking reviews for the show, the pair might have a reputation for cancellations. However, the email is not a joke, it becomes a real portrait of my black and white grief. I remember considering: the 30th Anniversary gift that I would not receive.
There was a girl, there was a boy, we could have met to sing this fan some Las Vegas joy,
But fame sings on the richer side of the desert, while I whine on the poorer seat of the hill.
We walked to the theatre hopeful that the email was wrong, but the Donny and Marie Show of May 12, 2015 was cancelled. When the attendant shared that Donny and Marie didn’t show up to perform and he/they didn’t know why, I was bewildered. (The little people never know why.) However, I was more surprised to hear––that other performers were in-theatre––ready to go. What? “Show cancellations happen,” the attendant told us, “they happen a couple times a year.” His statement left me sad, and feeling like a rock that had skipped across the water toward happiness, landed short of its goal. Reminds me of another song, I missed.
I was leaving it, up to you-ooh-ooh, but you decided––what you couldn’t do,
Now do you want my money, or are we through?
Regardless of the disappointment, I have long been a fan of Donny and Marie Osmond. Years ago, I saw Marie perform in the Sound of Music. I gave my youngest daughter Alicia, Marie as her middle name. My husband purchased the meet and greet package for me as a 30th Anniversary gift. I would have enjoyed hearing the silly old songs, hearing the silly old jokes, just to see two talented performers, whom I still admire. You see––it’s always been about the music––to me.
I guess I must accept that life happens to everyone, even performers, and some things in life are not meant to be. But perhaps someday, I’ll look up across the stage and the pair will sing to me.
When the deep purple falls over pink Flamingo walls, and the strip begins to twinkle in the night––
in the mist of my memories, you’ll wander cross the stage to me, breathing Puppy Love, with a sigh.
Everyone knows that Las Vegas is a crap shoot at the roulette wheel, where vacation seekers lose more than they win. Apparently, a Las Vegas show can earn a similar fate. Viva Las Vegas!