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Show - i . i. , si- ,' . ' t . 3 I Love Park City, too... Last week seemed to be the time to throw one's-loyalty one's-loyalty out into the open. Not only did one have to grin and bear it, while slowly inching thru the traffic , on : Park Avenue and up the frozen food aisle at the Alpha Beta, but for those heavy of the pocketbook and syrupy on the sentiment, Saturday night was a chance 10 kick your heels and joint the Kimball Art Center in the "I Love Park City Follies," at the second annual Beaux Arts Ball. Without a doubt, this was the busiest weekend of the not-quite-established' ski season. Last week's storm had left a smile on the face of old man winter (or at least his Park City counterpart, Phil Jones) and the musical . ring on many a register in town. The holiday birds showed up in bright feathered fea-thered profusion. Driving up Main Street and squinting slightly, it was as it the NBC peacock had multiplied right here in Park City. Down at the old AB, as it appears so often in my checkbook, it was the only time since I've lived in Park City that I wished there was a traffic light. I think, at , least a flashing yellow caution could be installed at the intersection of the frozen foods and beer aisles. Someone's Sara Lee and Stouffers are going to end up seriously rear-ending someone some-one else's wwekend Miche-lobs. Miche-lobs. -sThe possible "this one's for ybu" scene that could follow such a disaster, might have little to do with, anybody's BUD... Still, it's weekends like these that test your real "I Love Park City" level. We all know how very dependent most of us are on the weather , and the Washington's redefined re-defined birthday crowd. Besides, soon enough the crush will be over ana we win have the town back to ourselves. (And when we finally did, on Tuesday, it rain 4 1. Ther perfect scenario sce-nario for a Charley Brown catoon.) Saturday night, wh'le the waiting rooms of most restaurants were filled with more pairs of Nordica boots than Wolfe's at the beginning begin-ning of the season, 150 lovers cf the city gathered at the Holiday Inn for the first annual foolies - scratch that, I mean follies. Produced by Ginny Pinder, the review showed some of Park City's best up-until-now-undis-. covered talent. The can-can girls set off the evening with ' an oo-la-la, and the smooth voices of Gary Cole and Don Gomes embraced the show girls in a cad-like way. Dolly Makoff singing (what else) "Hello Dolly" was perfectly cast. But my favority act of the evening was Mary and Ray Lehmer. The pair received a standing ovation for their number "There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza." The perfect combination combina-tion of salon and saloon Lloyd Steven's VSheik of Arabi" number just seemed like your average night at the , "Downunder" a bevy of scantily clad beauties being pursued by the prime rib prince. With a little "digging and doing" I figured out the funniest valentine of the evening in the masked Superlatives number. (It was the walk, Raye, that gave you away.) The Follies showed promise (like the promise they plan to ' repeat the idea next year.) It appears the smell of the greaspaint tends to Strike a vein, in a large number of Kimball Art Center members.... mem-bers.... I Love Park City, too. I lack the la of the oo-la-la girls, perhaps. And my temper began to rise in direct comparison to the number of minutes I spent waiting in lines this weekend, week-end, but nonetheless, I'm a love it or leave it Parkite, Park City is My Kind of Town. (Apologies to Chicago and Frank Sinatra.) O.K., so it rained this week, but there is a storm promised for Monday and a reprieve at the check-out counter until then. Have a proud week... Jamie |