"They Call Me Mr. Apollo"

On my NYC bucket list was to see the Apollo Theater. I didn't have to go in. I just wanted to see it. Feel the vibe. Then I had the brilliant idea of going to Amateur Night at the Apollo. Unfortunately Amateur Night is on hiatus for the rest of the year. But while poking around I saw there were tours. I called and Billy Mitchell answered the phone.

"I want to tour the Apollo," I told him. "Do you have 20 people?" he asked. When I put on my best deflated voice, he told me that if I let him know which day I wanted to come he'd let us tag along with another tour.

We showed up at the appointed time,

and we were greeted warmly by Billy:

But then we discovered that we would be touring with members of the local Italian Mafia.

So Cathy and I rubbed the Tree of Hope, not so much so that we might win Amateur Night, but so that we might survive the tour without being dropped into the East River with bricks attached to our ankles. Here's the Tree of Hope:

On the tour, we discovered that Billy (aka Mr. Apollo) asks prospective tour participants to prepare an act. And then on the day of the tour, he puts on a mini Amateur Night for the tour group. Participants perform on this stage:

You win by acclamation. Or, more likely, you are booed until you leave the stage.

Had I been forewarned, I definitely would have brushed up on my rendition of "Big Mabel Murphy." I'm quite sure I would not have been booed off the stage.