Four Bitchin' Babes prove the right mix for Encore audience

3/11/2013

Four Bitchin' Babes were a hit with a Hays crowd Saturday night, bringing comic commentary, silky harmonies and just the right touch of sentimentality to their show "Mid Life Vices ... A Guilt Free Musical Revue."

Their songs, with folk flair, struck a common chord with the audience at Beach/Schmidt Performing Arts Center, as the four women plunged into topics including chocolate addiction, the history of cheese and the pitfalls of Facebook. But it was their "Woulda' Coulda' Shoulda' " that continued to resonate in my ears long past my departing the theater.

"I've got 20 voices inside my skull, negotiating," the quartet sang. "They're all telling me to grow up.

"I keep meaning to. ... I'm gonna get right on it."

Comprised of Sally Fingerett, Debi Smith, Marcy Marxer and Deirdre Flint, "Four Bitchin' Babes" debuted more than 20 years ago. Each member has multiple talents, including vocals, guitar, bass, Irish bodhran, ukulele, musical composition and stand-up comedy.

Although they thoroughly explored the wacky side of attaining womanly maturity in their standup monologues and music, many selections took a touching look at life's transitions.

Accompanied only by her Irish bodhran, Smith, in her song "In My Dream," drew on both her sweeping vocal range and the poignancy of motherhood and marriage, as the song illustrated her timeless love for her son and husband.

A crowd favorite, "Hungarian Hormonal Rhapsody," brought together themes of over-indulgence, Match.com, and children who graduate college and move back home.

"I turned her room into a den," Fingerett sang. "I turned his room into a den.

"What do I do ... I love my dens. Where do I put these kids again?"

Perhaps the evening's most unforeseen zinger came when the quartet returned to the stage for a curtain call performing, "There's Viagra in the Water."

With a guitar riff straight out of "Ghost Riders in the Sky," and Harry Chapin-esque lyrics, the song, rife with innuendo and side-splitting puns, assured most audience members left the theater and faced the bracing wind outside with a silly grin.

Dawne Leiker is a reporter for The Hays Daily News.