I saw Joe Frenchfries at the T.C.D. concert the other night. He was sitting in the front row with the gang from the Black Dog. Enthusiastic fans, they all relished the typical T.C.D. pranks including midget Christmas carolers and a moped ridden through the audience.

Mabel Downbeat was there too. Shee has seen (T)imothy Maxwell, (C)harles Esposito and (D)uane Giesemann’s concert last Christmas and once again went home well entertained, if slightly deafened. (Does Katharine Cornell Memorial Theatre need so much amplification?) Last year the group was more experimental, trying out all sorts of things. Each number was unique, a glittering jewel in its own right. This year they had less variety and more of their own voices - fewer routines and more real music.

Then there was Freddie Teenybop, a high school groupie. He split a side laughing when his buddies Sam Carroll (sax), Mark Campos (trombone) and Jeff Gray (trumpet) came on stage in white suits, cowboy hats and dark glasses - a musical three stooges.

Sandy Sosweet, another high schooler, came to see the fabulous food act. She had painted one of the panels of giant food and delightedly watched a huge piece of pie, a cereal bowl and a spam sandwich parade out and dance to T.C.D.’s junk food lament.

I, myself, laughed hardest at Ken Goldberg’s imitation of Rocky, and appreciated it when Santa (Wes Grunden) already knew me by name.

T.C.D. has a knack of including everyone and giving them the imaginative, the funny and a good show as well. T.C.D. is a marvelous blend of home-grown familiarity (Made on the Island), plus enough talent to take them places. The Christmas concert is already a tradition that shouldn’t be missed.