Columnist John Katsilometes: Time again to realign the planets

Monday, Oct. 2, 2000 | 8:33 a.m.

John Katsilometes is the Sun features editor. His column appears Mondays. Reach him at kats@lasvegassun.com or 259-2327.

Men, Mars. Women, Venus. Rodman, Pluto.

John Gray brought astronomical language into male-female interplay in 1992 with his best-selling book, "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus." Using the solar system as his comparative reference guide, Gray has boldly examined -- dare I say disassembled? -- contemporary relationships between men and women.

Provoking self-reflective analysis and sententious dialogue, Gray can justifiably claim to have helped redirect the behavioral patterns of both sexes by pinpointing precisely why and how they differ.

Yessir, it's quite a book. One I've really been meaning to read.

Instead I attended a performance of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus," last week at the Flamingo Las Vegas. My wife joined me. It was an important event, as it turns out, for we were having what the marriage industry might call "a crummy week." Nothing serious, just a ripple in ye olde pond of contentment. Without getting into great detail, I will say (and this goes out to the men out there) that when you are being spoken to, particularly by your wife, it is paramount that you stop typing away and/or glaring at the computer and listen to what she is saying.

Remember this at all times, because there will be a haunting moment when the speaking stops, the glaring starts, and that's when you find yourself heading off for "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus."

And this is no ordinary show, given its prickly premise and the fact that Gray, a universally revered relationship guru, has signed off on the production. Thus, your opinion of the show will invariably reflect on your opinion of women, relationships and Life Itself.

This is not true of, say, "Footloose."

When we walked in we met up with a female friend, who promised ominously, "Afterward we're all going to sit down and talk." OK. About what? Go Mets? Nope, we're here to learn something. An attitude must be crafted.

During the performance -- a collection of campy, fast-moving musical numbers satirizing male and female stereotypes -- I kept looking around the showroom, trying to gauge the audience. There were many women, but nearly an equal number of men. Many of the men were with other men, and it seemed (and I am not trying to be snide, cynical or intolerant here) that Gray might consider retaining a third planet for his next book.

Soon I discovered my ability to actually form an opinion was being severely curtailed. Every time my wife laughed, I laughed. When she said, "That guy can really sing," I said, "That guy can really sing."

Even the women around me, total strangers, had this effect. One of the chief characters is played by Shelley Winters incarnate Alene Robertson. She's wonderful. But following a Robertson number a woman seated across from me commented, "She's a little over the top." And I thought, instinctively, "She's a little over the top."

After the show I was asked the piercing question: "What did you think?"

Having 90 minutes to construct my answer, I said, "It was enlightening."

Heads nodded. That's how I stay in the solar system.