Word: boppers
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Early on in the first act, this season's femme fatale, a witch named Helza Poppins, starts casting spells on a Greek shipping magnate (Pluto Cratopoulos), a Canadian Mountie (Major Assburn) and his troops, Assburn's liberated-bopper of a charge (Mary Wanna), a hefty schoolmarm (Hortense Prune) and her maidens, One-Eyed Jack and his faithful Indian Toronto, two refugees from the frontiers of the 1840s. While they're all stomping around in Helza's "enchanted forest," Strong's unflattering imitations of Shakespearean romance require that they fall in love with each other in various un-lovely combinations until...
Your basic bopper on the beach, however, cannot see them for the stars. Today's pop-rock pantheon is the new Hollywood; its principal gods have filled the void left by the Harlows and Gables. Any number of the pop world's scores of superstars could serve to illustrate the process. Four who exemplify its various aspects as vividly as any are Balladeer Carole King, Hard-Rocker Ian Anderson, Pop-Jazz Songstress Roberta Flack and Fey Troubadour Harry Nilsson. Not exactly household names, they nevertheless enjoy more status with the young than a Newman or a Taylor. They are more...
...Bopper." The band dramatically swelled into crescendo. "Chantilly Lace... and a purty face... and a pony tail hanging down..." The crowd screamed. The frenzy of the dance floor exploded again. Spike and Mary Lou were Big League. They knew the moves... all the moves, "...there ain't nothing in the world... like a big-eyed girl... to make me act so funny... make me spend my money..." The crowd parted. Spike and Mary Lou accepted the spotlight. Back and forth. Jitterbug rock. Through the legs... skin the cat. Up and out. Over the hip. Round and round. It was like...
Crimson Cartoonist at "Tommy she Bopper...
...drums, electric guitars and vast sneering voice ride into another, undifferentiated wave of sound coming at the stage from the hall -the noise of thousands of kids in vicarious heat. Where these two walls of energy meet, above the stage and its blindly waving fringe of teeny-bopper arms, they precipitate a form. It is Mick Jagger, Jumpin' Jack Flash in person, laced into a white rhinestone-studded jumpsuit and painted like a Babylonian hooker, back-lighted by amber spots and front-lighted by a Mylar mirror the size of a movie screen slung from the roof trusses, belting...