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U P S I D E     d o w n s t a i r s    a cambridge comedy of manners
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"Dean Don"     Music and lyrics by Cass von Braun


The perils of Kate's outrageous opinions, the high risk factors of her notorious tongue-lashings and unconventional adventures (not to mention outright peccadilloes) are not lost on her.

But what's a brilliantly creative woman to do when she has long since denied development of her own talents in favor of becoming the wife of a powerful (well, locally powerful) elite man, only to discover that part of the creative gift's birthright is the creative gift tax. The creative gift tax is a toll exacted upon the sanity of those who own such gifts and -- perhaps from sheer laziness and ignorance of what it means for one to refuse to become who one truly is -- to have refused the difficult (even excruciating) public conventions of talents's exercise? He own sister's ridiculous fate pursuing art has been a lesson at close quarters.

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Having become the iconic shrew of her name, Kate's best hope now is to make it count toward the advantages of the deserving by punishing those who need punishment, avenging their disenfrancised victims through the power of her associations, and -- she dearly hopes -- slipping away from any responsibility for this through the clever methods of the feminine mystique.

For those who wonder why powerful men sometimes discover a certain tendency, even a need, to be humiliated behind closed doors, we see in Kate's husband a little insight into such a character in his search for redemption through balance.

v e r s e
Dean Don, dingy dingy Dean Don
His is a charming existence
We worship that man just as hard as we can
For he's going to write us a . . . reference
Dean Don, Dean Don
I share all your privileges blameless
Amusing myself through a scandalous pretension
Success on the track to an administrator's pension

r e f r a i n . 1
Ding-dong, what's wrong today?
Have the rats been nibbling at your protegé?
And your favorite cat's gone up a big tree
When hardly any trap's as fine a remedy
So you're down with a bad case of bats in the belfry

v e r s e
Dean Don,
Sir, did you utter a syllable?
An egomaniac, he needs a good whack!
And my time with him should be . . . billable
Dean Don,
My husband, is driving me crazy
When he flaunts his way, he vaunts his way
It shames me to say how this . . . thrills me

r e f r a i n . 2
Dean Don, a song for us
No one strives to keep me happy more than he does
And as nature is a force restoring balance
Well within the course of our romance
Is me taking flak for sharp'ning my claws on his back!

v e r s e
Dean Don, dingy dingy Dean Don
What gives his name such power?
It's training in practical servitude
From me berating him . . . by the hour!
It rocks me to the core
That when I put him in his place
He gets up and . . . locks the door

r e p e a t . r e f r a i n . 1

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