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Some Warble, Some Go for Door in Gershwin Sing-Along Venture

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

Some in the crowd crooned “ ‘S Wonderful.”

But there were also cries of “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off” when a Century City real estate agent stood up the other night to lead a country club dinner crowd in a Gershwin sing-along.

The last of the empty papaya and kiwi creme fraiche dessert plates were barely gone from the tables at the El Caballero Country Club as song sheets were handed out and Jim Borax grabbed a microphone.

“Do we have any singers in the room?” he demanded.

A scattered chorus of “yeahs” answered.

In a town where laser-punctuated, million-watt concerts are the norm--and where even Sunday church services can have a glittery sheen--show business was taking on a new appearance: the do-it-yourself look.

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What started as a sing-in-the-shower hobby is turning into a second career for Borax. And he’s not talking about birthday parties and bar mitzvahs here, either. His sights are set on Las Vegas.

“I call it participatory entertainment,” said Borax, 57. “I think it’s got a future.”

The show tune sing-along venture started as a lark in 1993 when Borax, of Beverly Hills, found himself enjoying amateur night singing at a jazz club.

“I like the old standards. Even I can’t screw up Gershwin music,” he said. “So I decided to take my show on the road, so to speak.”

He recruited a former University of Wisconsin college chum, Shelly Markham, to accompany him on the piano and help with the introduction of the tunes. Markham, who lives in the Wilshire district, is a music arranger for theater and television.

The pair charge $1,000 to lead the sing-alongs, although they lower or waive the fee for charity events.

“They don’t wow people with visuals. They do it by bringing people into their act,” explained Peter Good of Woodland Hills, who signed up the sing-along in October as entertainment at a Biltmore Hotel fund-raiser for the Orton Dyslexia Society.

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The shows have taken off fast. Nine Gershwin sing-alongs were performed at such tony places as the Beverly Hills Country Club and The Oaks at Ojai last year.

The one at Tarzana’s El Caballero Country Club got off to a slow start, however.

There was a moment of hesitation as the crowd of 117 fingered the song sheets and listened to the melody of the first tune that Markham pounded out on a grand piano.

But when it came time for the second song, “Bidn’ My Time,” most of those at the country club were not. They were singing hardily.

“This evening shows promise!” said Borax, looking relaxed in a green sweater and open-collar shirt--and looking relieved.

“Why don’t we sing one of George and Ira Gershwin’s most famous compositions, number 6. . . ,” he said, introducing the tune “ ‘S Wonderful.”

Participatory musicals are not new, of course.

Entertainer Mitch Miller made a cottage industry out of sing-along albums and a television series between 1958 and 1966. Japanese-style individual karaoke sing-alongs have more recently popped up in bars and lounges. And of course those in the country club crowd had sung along in kindergarten and in summer camp. But that had been 40 or 50 years ago for most. Or longer.

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“This is great. There are some good voices around me,” said Tarzana resident Mel Margolin--who was celebrating his 79th birthday. “The music is bringing it out in us,” said a woman sitting nearby, Trudy Licht of Brentwood.

“This group is hot!” Borax exclaimed, pointing toward them. “This table here is very hot!”

Gail Graff of Tarzana acknowledged that she did not know what she was in for when the songs started. “People never really sing anymore,” she said. “But all of a sudden here you’re forced to. I’m enjoying it very much.”

Others were not so sure.

“I don’t care much for this music,” said Al Lincoln of Encino. “I like the modern stuff: ‘Beer Barrel Polka,’ stuff like that.”

By the time Gershwin’s “But Not for Me” was sung, a few in the crowd had decided it was not for them. They headed for the door.

“It was terrible,” said one woman who declined to give her name. “Take it to the Kiwanis Club, not my club,” sniffed another.

Borax was undeterred. No, he’s not ready “to quit my day job” of leasing commercial real estate space just yet, he said.

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“But they’ve already invited us back here.”

As Gershwin might put it, “They Can’t Take That Away From Me.”

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