Baby Shark Goes Baywood! A Fin-Tastic Premiere in the Making
By Patricia Lyle, Arts & Leisure Correspondent
On Thursday, Baywood Community Center transformed into a feeding frenzy of fins, teeth, and questionable marine biology for the dress rehearsal ofBaby Shark Goes Baywood!— the latest preschool production directed by baker Earl Davenport.
A Cast of Sharks
The show features the usual Baby, Mommy, Daddy, and Grandparent Sharks, plus Davenport’s bold additions: Mother-in-Law Shark,Weird Uncle Shark, and Emo Shark.
“It’s all about diversity,” Davenport explained. “Also, audiences relate to dysfunction.”
Set & Costumes
Blue streamers, inflatable fish, and dorsal fins evoke something betweenFinding NemoandJaws.Davenport’s own Director Shark costume — gray wetsuit, sequined tail, and whistle — is the undeniable standout.
Early Impressions
Expect an energetic, chaotic, and unforgettable performance. Davenport’s staging adds unexpected tension that one might call thriller meets preschool sing-along.
“We don’t just sing doo doo doo doo doo doo,” Davenport insists. “We live it.”
According to Davenport’s Finnish advisor and special friend, Maija, “It may be too jaunty for Finns. In Finland, if there is no burning hatred between families, the story has no weight.” Davenport assuredthe Gazettethis note has been ‘taken under advisement’, already resulting in Weird Uncle Shark being given a backstory of a depressed, grudge-bearing shark.
The premiere is set for Saturday at 4 p.m., with a second performance immediately following at 4:07 p.m. for those who didn’t get enough the first time. Tickets are free. Applause is mandatory.
XADEN
Frankie’s too damn stubborn to ask for help, but I’m shopping for him anyway. My cart’s full of coffee, muscle rub, oat milk he pretends to hate, licorice ropes — he’s a weirdo — and the usual beer andcigarettes, because he’s a lost cause as well. Cole’s favorite chocolate too. Pathetic, I know.
People whisper when I walk past, just like in school. There goes Bailey, the handsome troublemaker, the one bound to ruin something. From Bay Hollow, of course. Where else.
They never noticed I was the one stepping between bullies and the kids too small to fight back. Never saw me sliding Cole my notes in math, breaking the problems down so Mrs. Kirkland wouldn’t get too sharp with him. None of that ever mattered.
Rounding the frozen aisle, I stop. Justin Clancy’s there in a backward cap, juggling a box of diapers, squinting at his phone like it’s ticking. His shirt says#GirlDadin glitter font.
“Clancy.” I nod at the dark circles under his eyes.
“Bailey.” He adjusts his cap. “Didn’t think they let you in stores unsupervised.”
“Congrats on spawning the next generation,” I say. “Word of advice? Keep her away from cliffs and jocks with death wishes.”
Senior year. Him and his buddies, drunk by the quarry. He would’ve gone under if I hadn’t dragged him out. Lisa sobbed and called me a hero. Then she started dating Justin.
His mouth twitches — half laugh, half sneer. “You always did love playing the hero. But you’re not the hero anymore.”
“Aww, thanks. I think you’re pretty, too.”
“I married her,” he says, defensive.
“I know. Maybe act like it. Appreciate your family. Grow up.”
He scowls at the shelf of wipes, jaw working. “I didn’t need saving. I would’ve floated.”
I almost laugh, but it dies in my throat. “No, Justin. You would’ve sunk. And you know it.”
He doesn’t answer.
I’m halfway down the aisle when I hear it: quiet, grudging. “Thanks.” I don’t turn. Just nod, pushing my cart forward.
