Bobby Darin on The Judy Garland Show, singing “Michael Row Your Boat Ashore”.
My friends and I have memorized this entire performance. Every gesture, every hand-clap, every jaw-tighten, and, of course, the ferocious “MICHAEL” that closes it out. The random Poor Jud Is Dead set that you only see for 2 seconds just adds to the strange mythic power of it all. He’s so coiled and intense. He looks like he’s about to kill someone with his bare hands. Yet this is a spiritual. When he points and orders, “SING”, and then in comes the choir … well. I’ll row my boat ashore, I’ll row it to Nova Scotia, big boy, I don’t care. One hand in a clenched fist. Expressing so much, holding even more back. The soprano SCREECHING in the background.
I have seen this clip so many times I can’t even count, and it is now colored by the memory of all of my friends DOING Bobby Darin singing this song. My friend Jackie, for example, holding a glass of white wine, with her perfectly made-up face and gorgeously coiffed hair, shouting “MICHAEL” in a guttural voice at some party, as we all die with laughter.
So many memories bound up in one timeless performance.
Just had to leave a comment that I saw Bobby Darin in Las Vegas in 1973. I was only 14, but since the mafia was comping our entire trip, we saw two great shows a night for three nights running. The shows usually had a comic and a singer, or were productions like Lido de Paris. Of the male singers on that trip, we saw Engelbert Humperdinck, James Darren, and Sergio Franki along with Bobby. Bobby was by far the most amazing performer. He gave everything to this Caesar’s Palace audience. He was riveting from beginning to end. But the thing I remember most was his very visible penis outlined in his tight, light gray polyester dress slacks. Ah, Vegas memories!
Xxx love you!
Stevie – amazing eyewitness account! Thank you~
// but since the mafia was comping our entire trip //
Uhm, yeah, you need to tell me everything about this one fabulous mysterious sentence.
// his very visible penis outlined in his tight, light gray polyester dress slacks //
hahahaha Hot!!!
and no Elvis, I’m assuming?
But still – that is one hell of a lineup of performers and I’m envious!!
Yeah, no Elvis,. The mafia comping came from the fact that one of my family’s closest friends, a surgeon, did the hernia surgery on Del Webb, who was sort of the king of Las Vegas in the post Bugsy Siegel/pre-Steve Wynn days. He “arranged” everything for us because the surgeon comped Del Webb’s surgery, then told him my mother was his sister, which was why I was able to waltz into each showroom as a 14-year-old, and be shown to the best seats in the house regardless of the adult nature of these performances. My mother was particularly upset about the display of breasts during the French review, and kept trying to cover my eyes. But she didn’t realize that I was riveted onto the male dancers in their G strings. So I saw Buddy Hackett tell the filthiest stories while holding his dick, James Darren openly flirt with my mother during one of his love songs, and Sergio Franchi doing an embarrassing clown medley (Be a Clown, Make ’em Laugh, and Vesti la Juba) while sitting in front of one of those fake dressing tables with the light bulbed frame, no mirror, and putting on clown white while singing. Talk about warping an innocent mind!