Been thinking about a very nice song from The Night of the Hunter, the musical that composer Claibe Richardson wrote with librettist-lyricist Stephen Cole. It’s called “Lookin’ Ahead,” in which a single mother and her children see some good and bad possibilities in their lives.

And so is it with all of us as we look ahead. Life’s a roller coaster – but after you actually did take a roller coaster ride, didn’t you find it exciting? So let’s keep rollin’ along.

Let’s start with high school juniors, who are hearing their parents saying “Gotta get your college applications in! Do you know what school you want to go to?”

Kids, have you even broken the news that you want to major in theater?

Barry Horbal understands. During the time he was appearing as the all-grown-up Josh in Big at the Grandstreet Theatre in Helena, Montana, he happened to see a woman in the office trying to help a teen find a theater college. Horbal was reminded of when he was a student at Monacan High School in Richmond, Virginia. There he’d played Jack in Into the Woods, Frump in How to Succeed, Bobby in Crazy for You, and Joseph in Dreamcoat.

“So I told my drama teacher I’d really like to pursue this field,” Horbal recalls. “She said to me, ‘Well, there’s Virginia Commonwealth University right down the street.’ When I said I really wanted to go away somewhere, she reluctantly said, ‘Oh, then, I’m sorry; I really don’t know what to tell you.’”

Left to his own devices, Horbal checked out Dramatics Magazine, and was attracted to two advertisements: One for the University of the Arts in Philadelphia, and the University of Cincinnati-Conservatory of Music. He wound up at the latter, but knows that blind luck played a big part of that.

Now he’s made it easier by setting up a website that’s a clearing house for kids who either know what they want in a theater college or conservatory, or those who aren’t quite sure: www.schoolsfortheatre.com

It started when Horbal was doing They’re Playing Our Song in Richmond. “We only played Thursdays through Sundays, which left me with lots of time. I mean, I grew up in Richmond, so I’ve seen the White House of the Confederacy and the Thomas Jefferson Statue. So I bought Web Design for Dummies and started the site.”

He now has listings for 610 schools, colleges, and universities; over 100 of them offer musical theater degrees. “I have basic information on what the schools offer, the faculty, the curriculum, and whether or not they offer showcases in L.A. or New York,” says Horbal. There are interviews with professors, tips on how to mark up your music, and how to prepare your pre-recorded audition. And if that isn’t enough, there are links to scholarship and financial aid information, as well as help-plan-your-trip tips. Horbal is now preparing a list of what songs NOT to do, too, when you audition.

Horbal reports that almost half the visitors to his site are parents. “Well, some parents of high school performers are very much a part of their children’s lives,” Horbal says, clearly employing a euphemism, and then deciding to come down to brass tacks: “All the time.”

All right, what about those who have been graduated from such schools and are lookin’ ahead to getting hired? Maybe all you budding performers made a New Year’s Resolution that you’d really apply yourself this year. Ah, but statistics show that most New Year’s Resolutions are junked by Valentine’s Day. And now that we’re a month past that, where are your resolutions now?

It’s time to take a look at How to Be a Working Actor, Mari Lyn Henry and Lynne Rogers’ book, now in its fifth edition. Early on, the authors could scare away some “actors” by noting that of the 200,000 people in the various unions, only 20% earn more than $10,000 a year. As they suggest, “If there’s any other work that you can see yourself doing that will bring you just as much happiness, that offers a higher ratio of success and a far more tranquil existence while demanding less application, then by all means involve yourself in those activities.”

Still not discouraged? Read on: In the “Your Money” section, they advise, “You should not need or expect to earn one cent during your starting-out period.” They talk about rent (“Scout for your location, just as a production company would do when shooting sequences outside the studio.”) and remind you that “You are not embarking on an adventure vacation. This adventure happens to be your life and your business, and for that you need a long-term plan.”

Henry and Rogers provide it. They suggest you have a distinct look (“Industry professionals want the look to be there when you make your entrance.”), and parlay that with information on what might be relevant to young people. (“Jane Iredale’s Disappear is a camouflage cream that completely conceals tattoos.”).

Once you have your look, it’s off to the photographer. “Discard that picture you have had taken in Peoria,” they write, in a line that would get a head-nod from Rocco Landesman. “Look at your current photo and write a first-person caption to verbalize the thought you are projecting. If nothing comes to mind, the photo is too general and lacking in personality.” If a new picture is needed, the authors suggest you bring to the photographer’s studio your favorite CD – for “you should listen to music that relaxes you, or gives you energy, puts you in a great mood, or triggers your imagination.” The book is filled with “little” suggestions like that can make a big difference.

For resumes, Henry and Rogers state that “it isn’t necessary to describe your age range; that’s an old theater habit.” Although they admit, “Actors have been told they shouldn’t list degrees that have nothing to do with performing,” they feel “an actor whose expertise in forensics, nursing, law or biology might be useful on a daytime soap or an episode of CSI.”

The authors don’t sugar-coat actors’ tendency to self-sabotage. “When Actors’ Equity scheduled a free seminar on ‘How to Meet an Agent’ and guaranteed that several prominent agents would appear and answer questions, only 56 actors showed.” They do admit, though, that agents aren’t the be-all and end-all; Patricia (A Little Night Music) Elliott says that many times she had to call her agent and ask that HE call about a job she’d heard about.

But they concede that agent Nancy Curtis is right when she says, “To have a career as an actor, every day you need to do something.” Fascinating is the fact that “Nathan Lane was famous for building his career with Equity Principal Auditions. He was voracious, and went to every single one of them, whether he was right for it or not.” So, dear readers who perform, let’s see you look ahead and become the next Nathan Lane.

Too early to be lookin’ ahead to Christmas 2011? Kurt Peterson, currently represented by the hit show Zero Hour, doesn’t think so. And who’s more forward-looking than Peterson? Remember, he was the first-ever to present an evening of our greatest composer-lyricist, way back in 1973 via Sondheim—A Musical Tribute. That set the tone for many such wonderful evenings in the future.

So with only 553 shopping days till Christmas 2011, Peterson is planning a holiday album with Kelli O’Hara. “I saw Light in the Piazza seven times,” he says. “And when I caught Kelli in South Pacific, I made sure that Ted Chapin (the president of R&H) introduced me to her afterwards.”

O’Hara isn’t the only one with fans. Among Peterson’s, there’s Judith Clurman, the famed chorale leader. “Judith saw me in West Side Story when she was 12, and had a bit of a crush on me,” Peterson says very sheepishly. And because modesty is one of his most endearing qualities, he quickly gets off that subject and segues to “Judith is the one who approached me with this great idea, found a wonderful new song by a Tony and Academy Award winning composer and discovered gems from the past. So I, along with my partners Erin Craig and Judith, anticipate recording Christmas with Kelli in the fall, and hope that it’ll lead to concerts in the future.”

You may e-mail Peter at pilichia@aol.com. Check out his new weekly column each Tuesday at www.masterworksbroadway.com

On Monday, sweet Monday, with nothin’ to do -- most shows are dark -- I had a stay-at-home night where I'd file programs and clean up. What music to play while working?

Hey, how about choosing one musical for which I have five different single-disc recordings, put them into my multiple-disc player, select “Random/Shuffle” and see how it goes? (As my girlfriend Linda would say, “Another reason why we don’t live together.”)

After taking stock of what I have and what I haven’t, I decide on Irving Berlin’s Annie Get Your Gun. Into Slot One goes the 1946 original cast album with Ethel Merman and Ray Middleton. Slot Two gets the 1957 Mary Martin-John Raitt studio recording made to complement the TV special they did that year. Slot Three welcomes the 1986 London studio album with Suzi Quatro and Eric Flynn.

(“You BOUGHT that?!” you ask in horror. I can explain! In late ‘86, when I went to London to see Phantom, I was hungry to buy such London cast CDs as Bar Mitzvah Boy, The Card, Passion Flower Hotel, Windy City, and plenty of others. But they weren’t yet on CD. Quatro’s was one of the few discs I didn’t have. And, believe it or not, no other recording of the score had yet been transferred to CD.)

Back to inserting: Slot Four is awarded the 1991 Kim Criswell-Thomas Hampson studio recording, leaving the fifth slot to play host to the 1999 Bernadette Peters-Tom Wopat revival cast album. And why not the 1966 Merman-Bruce Yarnell recording, you demand? Because I loaned it to a “friend” who never gave it back.

I estimate that I’ll have around five hours of listening pleasure and elbow-bending housework. Not surprisingly, the recordings originally made on LP, when vinyl couldn’t accommodate very much music, are the shortest. Martin’s is a mere 38:34, which is still longer than Merman’s 37:38 (when it was originally released; this Merman CD, though, is now 49:56, thanks to four bonus tracks taken from a 1973 recording she made). Still, it’s out-timed by Peters' 52:07, whose revisionist recording is shorter than Quatro’s more faithful 56:08 disc. But Criswell, under the aegis of conductor John McGlinn -- who always wanted as complete a recording as possible -- yields 79:02.

Let’s go on with the show! Don’t worry; I’m not going to comment on each and every track – just the highlights:

7:32 – When Quatro sings “Moonshine Lullaby,” she genuinely bleats on “So count your sheeeeeeeep” – enough so she sounds like a late-first-act Dr. Dillamond.

7:45 – Hampson’s “My Defenses Are Down” proves that these “recitalist-opera singers” primarily want to show off their Beautiful Voices. Tom, Frank Butler’s first job was cleaning stables.

7:54 – John Raitt makes a similar mistake in “I’m a Bad, Bad Man.” Instead of dropping the “g’s” in “combin'" and ‘Wyomin’,” he pronounces them perfectly. Too rarefied.

8:01 -- Of the five ladies, Merman was the most famous for holding a note – so will she be the champ on “Yes, I cannnnnnnnnnn!” in “Anything You Can Do?” I time her: 10 seconds. We’ll see how the other four do.

8:05 – Nice dance music in Criswell’s “I’m an Indian, Too.” It has a Coplandesque sound; you can feel that the wind comes sweepin’ down the plain. Thanks, Phil Lang!

8:26 -- Martin was often said to be tied with Merman for the title of First Lady of the American Musical Theater. How fitting, for Martin holds “cannnnnnnnnn” for the same 10 seconds that Merman does. In the song, Martin also finds a place for her trademark giggle, and her “and get even sicker” is sweet and smooth. I see she really had a recording artist’s voice, and knew her way around a mike. Now I’m retroactively surprised in that in that era of true easy-listening, she didn’t have a recording career.

8:32 – In “Doin’ What Comes Natur'lly,” I’ve become so accustomed to the lyric, “Still, she’s learned to sing off-key” with a purposely flattened and sour note on “key,” I’m surprised to learn that Merman doesn’t do it on the original cast album.

8:36 – As fate would have it, Peters’ “Doin’ What Comes Natur'lly” immediately follows. In comparison, she really seems to lay on thick the hick accent. Does she purposely sing the “off-key” lyric off-key? No – for she doesn’t include the lyric at all.

8:47 -- Martin’s “I Got the Sun in the Morning” is awfully refined. On the other hand, it does take place at a point in the show when Annie has learned quite a bit.

8:59 – Here’s “I’ll Share It All with You” from the Criswell. What’s that? A lackluster song for Tommy and Winnie rarely done in any production these days. But Jason Graae and Rebecca Luker make it sound better than it is.

9:13 -- Wow! Martin doesn’t flatten and sour “key” in “Doin’ What Comes Natur'lly.” Who was the first to do this? I put on the DVD of the movie version, and suffer through Betty Hutton’s repulsive performance during the song. She almost flattens and sours, but not quite.

9:17 – The mighty fall. Criswell holds “cannnnnnnnnnnn” for 12 seconds. At least in this contest, anything that Merman and Martin can do, she can do better.

9:24 -- Criswell’s note-hold reign is short-lived. Bernadette Peters holds “cannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn” for an incredible 18 seconds. Why do I feel that Quatro won’t beat her?

9:31 -- Quatro has a different take on “You Can’t Get a Man with a Gun.” It’s more “Well, this is who I am, and there’s nothin’ I can do about it!” Hence, her joyous “Yee-hah!” at the end.

9:45 -- The democratic “Random/Shuffle” doesn’t care that “There’s No Business Like Show Business” is Musical Theater’s National Anthem. It gets around to it (via Criswell) when it gets around to it.

9:54 -- Quatro’s “cannnnnnnn” brings up the rear with an eight-second hold.

10:07 – The Peters recording of “There’s No Business Like Show Business” offers some fetching extra lines for two B-sections: First, “How you worried using half the night up / waiting till the morning paper came / what a moment when your face would light up / to see the write-up / and find your name.” Second, “Everything inside you starts to shake up / when your picture in the news appears / and the thrill each morning when you wake up / without the make-up / behind your ears.” The Complete Lyrics of Irving Berlin don’t show these, and the liner notes don’t say where they came from. I e-mail Bert Fink, a veep at Rodgers & Hammerstein, which controls the show; he later e-mails back to say that “these are unpublished lyrics by Mr. Berlin himself; we have typed manuscript copies here on file at the office.”

10:14 – Quatro avoids the “off-key” verse, too. She bleats here, too. Funny; when I first heard this disc two decades ago, I thought, “Hey, Quatro’s not bad!” Ah, but now that I’m hearing her in open competition with Criswell, Martin, Merman, and Peters, she seems quite lackluster.

10:21 – Once again, I scratch my head when I hear the words, “Who Do You Love, I Hope?” Such an awkward phrase! I wonder if Berlin was experimenting with Dadaism.

10:27 – Though I know Martin’s recording has to be abridged, I’m still surprised that her “I Got the Sun in the Morning,” doesn’t include the “Taking stock of what I have and what I haven’t” verse.

10:36 – The history books tell us that when Merman heard “There’s No Business Like Show Business,” she demanded to be a part of it – and was. Nevertheless, she doesn’t appear in the song on the cast album. Even though the LP era had to sacrifice some material, this is not a good excision.

10:44 – Again, I’m no fan of “Who Do You Love, I Hope?” but I like Marin Laird’s ragtime dance music on Peters’ disc.

10:52 – Criswell sings “off-key” in an off-key fashion. She’s terrific on this song, and all her others.

11: 09 -- The Martin-Raitt recording rarely features anyone else, but they needed a chorus for “There’s No Business Like Show Business.” Sounds as if they went down the hall to get some office workers to help out.

11:16 – The overture on the Criswell starts off with such a rapid fire “There’s No Business Like Show Business” that I start to think there must be no business like the amphetamine business.

11:24 – By now, I’ve noticed that the sound quality of Merman’s “They Say It’s Wonderful” is so prehistoric that it sound not unlike you’re hearing it through two Dixie cups and a string.

11:32 – Peters’ recording turns out to have a montage of “The European Tour,” which, after all these familiar songs, really seems like a breath of fresh air.

11:53 – Who’s this Frank Butler who recorded “Old-Fashioned Wedding” with Merman in 1973? The CD sleeve says Neilson Taylor. He sounds awfully arch. (My buddy Alan Gomberg later informs me he was a football player turned opera singer who never quite became a star.)

12:03 – Here’s a benefit of early LP truncation: We don’t have to listen to that much of “I’m an Indian, Too” on the Merman. Most people object to this song on sensitive racial grounds; I feel it should be dropped for a different reason: When Frank rebuffs Annie for stealing his thunder, that’s the logical end to the first act.

12:16 – Not until the fifth rendition of “My Defenses Are Down” does a lyric strike me as odd, though this must be my thousandth-something time hearing it: “Like an organ grinder’s bear,” sings Wopat. “Bear?” Weren’t organ grinders famous for having monkeys? I Google-Image, and find that Berlin has a point; some of them did have bears. Who knew?

12:23 a.m. – It all comes to an end, four hours and 51 minutes later with Merman’s “They Say It’s Wonderful” – which once again proves that being tender didn’t come naturally to her.

And how did my housework go? Not very well, for I was so busy taking these notes, Googling, and e-mailing R&H that I didn’t get much done at all.

You may e-mail Peter at pfilichia@aol.com Check out his Tuesday column at www.MasterworksBroadway.com, too.