In spite of Avenue Q’s teaser reputation as a Muppet satire packed with vulgarity, profanity and full puppet nudity, the dialogue and situations are quite tame by today’s HBO standards.

One of the highlights of the piece was a duet with Asarnow and Concertmaster Robin Mayforth on the violin that was both tranquil and moving.

This is a wonderfully edgy, quintessential San Francisco experience, embracing its eccentricity with a singular charm and an irrepressible, incandescent spirit.

After the two-hour performance, as we made our way through the Roda lobby, and with the raucous standing-O still ringing, I looked at doe-eyed Loni and said, "wow!" - chalk me up, I'm a believer...

"Those who stand for nothing fall for anything."

Kobara’s ability to look stunning even as makeup runs down her face is a swift trick that I’d love to pull off.

Not having drunk the blue kool-aid, I was ready to dismiss it as a techno version of Gallagher watermelon-smashing. Little did I know that this was merely one step in the BMG experience as the group slowly built the tension.

Fair warning. The first clue you're possibly in for a big night of drinking, debauchery and partying (and a few gun shots): the instigator will likely appear bearing simple tap water.

All attention was focused upon Jeffrey Van Sciver, a mesmerizing black dancer with impossibly long arms and legs. Transitioning from sharply articulated moves to movements as liquid as a long string of pearls, Sciver nearly stole the show.

Without missing a stroke he exhausts the crowd with Tchaikovsky’s Allego Con Fuoco and then after the second standing ovation of the night presents an encore performance.