Always ... friends

Mary A. Castillo

The Laguna Playhouse slumbered before the Friday night audience

would walk in through the lobby doors and fill every single empty

seat.

While I waited for the stars I checked out the set dominated by

giant gold panels and the “Always ... Patsy Cline” sign suspended

over the stage in giant silver and red sequins. A jukebox stood

silent stage right and an “On The Air” sign waited to flash on at

stage left.

Somewhere backstage a door opened and two voices echoed out into

the house. One was that trademark voice from “All In the Family,” and

the other was peppered with a Georgia twang. When Sally Struthers and

Christa Jackson walked out of the wings, I couldn’t resist. I had to

tell Struthers how excited mom had been when I told her about our

interview. “How sweet,” she said, opening her arms and then pulling

me into a tight hug. “You give this hug to your mama.”

Settling down at the gold steps, Jackson and Struthers explained

why they were not only dressed up, but struggling to tap into the

energy that would propel them for the evening’s performance.

“We celebrated a mutual friend’s birthday at the Surf and Sand,”

explained Struthers.

Someone mumbled something about the desert tray. But being

professionals, they would find that zap and sparkle for the

performance just two hours away. Even if they had to pull it out of

their feet. Considering that the duo performs together six nights a

week for a total of seven weeks at the Playhouse -- not to mention

that they performed the play previously at the L.A. Coronet Theatre

last year -- they are a testament to the grueling work theatrical

actors go through.

“It’s a mystery to me,” admitted Struthers. “I don’t know what

happens. I can see someone smiling in the front row or someone says

something to me backstage that makes me feel like I want to bust my

buns for them.” “I feed off her energy and the audience’s energy,”

said Jackson. “She’s a crazy woman on stage.”

However, Struthers has a beef with Jackson. “She sings with her

jaw out because Patsy had an under bite,” she said, pausing to jut

her chin forward. Jackson argues that it helps her achieve that

authentic Cline sound. Her co-star won’t hear of it.

“She went to an ears, nose and throat doctor and she now has TMJ,”

she said. “Patsy and her damn under bite.” “If my grandpa saw what I

was doing,” Jackson admitted. “He’d kill me.”

Jackson’s grandfather is a dentist.

The duo met seven-years ago when they toured on the Tommy Tune

production of “Grease.” A friendship so deep -- Struthers refers to

Jackson as her “other daughter” -- formed on that tour that Struthers

recommended Jackson for the role of Patsy.

Eventually she invited Jackson and her beau, Tye Andrews to move

into her West Hollywood home. For the duration of the play they are

living in neighboring apartments here in Laguna.

“We’re family. I like the house to sound like the Waltons where

you hear ‘goodnight ma, good night pa,’” explained Struthers. “I’ve

always said that you have an eternity to spend alone in the grave and

when you’re alive you should be with people.”

But still ... how can two people who work together live in

harmony? Jackson maintains that they’re not joined at the hip. But

the times they spend together are filled with laughter ... sometimes

uncontrollable laughter.

“We play off of each other,” said Jackson as she cast a

mischievous glance at Struthers “But the other night we were cracking

up, just giggling on stage.” “I am sooo glad out director wasn’t

there,” added Struthers. “We would’ve gotten pages and pages of notes

of what we did wrong.”

Having a good time is what makes the play so special not only for

the stars but the audience as well. The welcome they’ve received from

the Playhouse audiences have been unlike they ever experienced

before. “It feels like I’m back in the South,” said Jackson. “These

are some genuine, very caring people.”

Part of Struthers role has her picking a gentleman from the

audience -- beware those who have front row tickets -- and dancing

with him.

After one show in particular, her “dance partner” and his wife and

friends met them in the green room and invited them over for bacon

and eggs. They went.

“Here, you can go home with complete strangers,” said Struthers.

According to Louise Seger’s memoirs on which the play is based, she

befriended Cline at a Houston nightclub in 1961. A devoted fan, Seger

invited her to come over her house for bacon and eggs. The friends

only spent that one evening together but continued their friendship

through phone calls and letters until Cline’s death in 1963.

After Struthers and Jackson close the play in Laguna, the two will

commute to work at the Reprise Theatre in Los Angeles for the

production of “Anything Goes.” The irony is that Jackson auditioned

for her role before Struthers was cast.

“My agent called me and told me she signed me up,” said Struthers,

grinning and glancing out of the corner of her eye at Jackson. “I

walked across the courtyard to Christa’s apartment and said, guess

what I got?”

“She looked like she did something wrong,” Jackson commented

wryly. “I had to audition for my role.”

“Maybe when you’re in your 50s you won’t have to sing and dance,”

Struthers said with a playful shove.

“Always ... Patsy Cline” will run at the Laguna Playhouse through

Aug. 25. For information and tickets call (949) 497-ARTS.

* MARY A. CASTILLO is a news assistant for the Coastline Pilot.

She covers education, public safety and City Hall.