Donations of $500 and iPods — from students at San Domenico School in San Anselmo — got the ball rolling.

So residents of WindChime of Marin, a memory-care facility in Kentfield, just over the line from Ross, now can derive pleasure from personalized music playlists on the digital devices.

As a bonus, the portable players typically open what’s been called “a backdoor” to memory and the mind.

I call it a coming-out party.

Stemming from an unpretentious program that can temporarily steer men and women back from the isolation that dementia, Alzheimer’s and other serious ailments sometimes dictate.

“The more specific the playlist,” explained Tanja Obear, WindChime’s activity director, “the more effective it is. And it’s best if songs from the teenage years to the mid-20’s, their ‘fun-time,’ are selected.”

But there’s a wide spectrum of likes, Tanja noted, “ranging

from music of the ‘30s, ‘40s and ‘50s to others — younger — who want to hear Led Zeppelin.”

Gina Pandiani, president of Marin Activity Coordinators (MAC), cleared my attendance at the group’s recent 90-minute meeting at WindChime. There, nine women watched three snippets from a documentary, “Alive Inside,” and discussed how “Music & Memory,” the program that generated the video, could be implemented throughout the county.

I was encouraged.

I’d screened the video about a month before. And wept.

It was that touching, that inspiring.

A clip from it, featuring “Henry,” a dementia patient “awakened” by music from his iPod, has gone viral.

More than 11 million views.

And counting.

A thousand senior facilities and nursing homes have instituted the memory program so far. But the hope is for way more — 16,000 in the United States, 65,000 throughout the world.

WindChime began with only 10 iPods.

By the time MAC met, all but three of 48 residents had playlists (after a three-month process to fully implement the program).

The biggest problem the facility encountered, reported Bradlee Ann Foerschner, its executive director, was “keeping all the iPods charged.”

Not really an obstacle.

The music itself can occasionally be challenging, though.

One meeting attendee encountered “a banjo player who wanted only bluegrass music on his iPod” and insisted he “couldn’t abide Frank Sinatra.”

Marie Van Soest, a WindChime resident who’d previously lived in San Anselmo, differed.

She adores Sinatra.

And oldies like “Ain’t Misbehavin’,” “New York New York” and “Lady Be Good.”

She told me she looks forward to hearing them.

Again and again.

The main aim of “Music & Memory” seems achievable.

That is, to improve the quality of life for Alzheimer’s and dementia patients, for the depressed and infirm, for the lonely, for the elderly in general — by supplying easy access to music they once loved.

“The program’s not going to reverse the effects of dementia,” said Bradlee, “but it’s going to evoke memories from the past — and the joy of those memories.”

Cognitive abilities can improve as well as mood.

I’ve seen both happen, in fact, while watching my wife, Nancy Fox, play piano and provide patter in senior and memory-care facilities in Marin.

Immobilized residents mouthed words from long-forgotten tunes.

And rhythmically tapped their toes and fingers.

I’ve watched deer-in-headlights eyes light up — and stay alert for a while.

“Music & Memory,” I’m also convinced, can cut costs by reducing the need for certain medications. And it can produce residents’ desire to interact with others.

Bradlee gave an example.

One WindChime resident is French and “loves to dance to the music. Her entire playlist is French songs. She’s very sweet to watch, and wants everyone else to hear what she hears, to enjoy what she enjoys.”

Some residents prefer keeping to themselves, however.

Another resident, Bradlee observed, just blissfully and wordlessly “plays invisible piano.”

Virtually everyone involved with the iPod program listed the same caveat: Despite its genuine promise, personalized music is no magical cure.

Still, Gina, who’s also the Community Life Services director at Aldersly in San Rafael, suggested the devices offer “a perfect way for volunteers to step up” since residents need only push a single button to start or stop the music.

Bradlee summed up why she’s sanguine about the program: “I’m always talking quality of life and this program enriches the residents lives.”

One coordinator’s reaction was succinct: “It’s such a great idea — so cool.”

I concur.

Contact Woody Weingarten at voodee@sbcglobal.net or at www.vitalitypress.com/

[Woody’s [rating: 3.5]

Good things come in threes.

Like “Annie the Musical,” which just opened at the SHN Golden Gate Theater in San Francisco.

It has, to start with, bouncy tunes, talented cast and uplifting theme.

It also has a knack of bringing synchronized pleasure to three generations — at least in my family.

My 8-year-old granddaughter, Hannah, loved it.

So did Laura, her mom: mid-lifer. And so did I: geezer.

Issie Swickle, a 9-year-old Floridian whose long brown hair was cut and dyed red for her “Annie” title role, is absolutely professional.

And has a strong voice.

Yet I believe two other performers have even more charisma.

The first, scene-stealing Lynn Andrews, turned orphanage queenpin Miss Harrington into the best villainess since Glenn Close’s portrayal of Cruella de Vil in “101 Dalmatians.”

Andrews, like Melissa McCarthy, uses her plus-sizedness as a hilarious comic prop.

She’s so over-the-top it’s impossible to stop grinning when she’s on stage — whether singing like a snarling witch in “Little Girls,“ embellishing a raunchy song-and-dance trio such as “Easy Street,” or lip-synching a Jello commercial.

Then there’s a challenger to Shirley Temple as cutest kid actor ever, Lilly Mae Stewart, who sings, dances and even cartwheels as Molly, one of seven little orphaned girls.

She’s a teeny 10.

Speaking of cute, Sunny, a 4-year-old rescue terrier mix who plays Annie’s adopted pooch, Sandy, fits that bill.

Hannah, in fact, confided that one of her favorite “Annie” moments was “when Sandy yawned.”

Her others included two numbers, “It’s the Hard Knock Life” and “Tomorrow, “ the show’s optimistic anthem, and the fun idea of bunk beds (though she wouldn’t want to be stuck in a lower).

Laura, meanwhile, “thoroughly enjoyed the show, which can be appreciated on both adult and kid levels.”

She’s right, of course.

Though most youngsters will be clueless about The Great Depression and Hoovervilles, FDR and the New Deal, or, indeed, orphanages, they certainly can comprehend kids’ plaints about drudgery, meanness and a desire to be part of a family.

When “Annie” first appeared on Broadway in 1977, it won seven Tony’s, including best musical.

Martin Charnin, who doubled as lyricist, directed it then. His direction of this touring company is his 19th go-round.

“Annie” spotlights a capable cast of 25 (plus or minus the dog), and an orchestra of 21. And although the girls shine in choreography by Liza Gennaro, particularly a number featuring a Rockettes-like chorus line, their high-pitched voices make words difficult to distinguish.

Some theatergoers might consider the show’s length — about 2-1/4 hours — excessive for younger children.

Others might object to Annie not looking like the original comic strip character.

Until she’s “gussied up” in Act II by billionaire Daddy Warbucks’ minions. That’s when her straight hair suddenly turns curly and she dons the red dress we all recognize.

Some also may find fault with a knife threat, a doll’s head being torn off, and the word “damn” being used repeatedly.

Never, however, is Annie anything but an optimist, spouting such niceties as “You gotta have dreams.”

The show’s an old-fashioned happy-ending creation likely to force you to hum songs by Charles Strouse, who also co-wrote “Bye Bye Birdie.”

A key by-product, by the way, stems from SHN joining the St. Anthony Foundation in its “Socks in the City” campaign. Seat-holders are asked to bring a new pair to a performance and deposit it in SHN Golden Gate Theatre lobby barrels. Collected items will be given the homeless.

Because my family isn’t homeless, Hannah could smile a lot during “Annie.” And Laura could smile while watching Hannah smile.

And I could smile while watching them both.

Hannah’s mere existence gave me an excuse to go in the first place. I probably wouldn’t have without her, and I’d have been the loser.

But I believe after this run is successful, “Annie” will turn up again — tomorrow.

“Annie the Musical” runs at the SHN Golden Gate Theatre, 1 Taylor St. (at Market), San Francisco, through June 14. Night performances, 5:30 p.m. Sundays, 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays through Saturdays. Matinees, noon Sundays, 2 p.m. Wednesdays and Saturdays. Tickets: $40 to $160 (subject to change). Information: (888) 746-1799 or shnsf.com.

Contact Woody Weingarten at www.vitalitypress.com/ or voodee@sbcglobal.net

[Woody’s [rating: 3.5]

My wife nailed it.

“You gotta look at it in a historical perspective,” she told me as we exited A.C.T.’s “A Little Night Music” amid my doubts about how to assemble this review.

So I started thinking about time.

• About the musical’s setting being Sweden at the turn of the 20th century.

• About Ingmar Bergman, whose 1955 partner-switching film, “Smiles of a Summer Night,” was heavily mined in 1973 by Stephen Sondheim for his “Night Music” music and lyrics and Hugh Wheeler for the book.

• About its revolving door sexuality and aging themes retaining their relevance in 2015.

My wife’s always liked Sondheim better than I, branding his lyrics, humor and internal rhymes brilliant (we agree his music’s more non-melodic and difficult than most Broadway composers).

I’d never argue with his genius, yet he’s always been too bleak for my tastes.

Sondheim’s initial materials for “Night Music,” it should be noted, were much darker and melancholy than eventually staged.

No surprise.

But “Night Music” does include one of my favorite ballads, the show-stopping “Send in the Clowns,” as well as the lilting “A Weekend in the Country.”

I also admit to enjoying three short, wistful pieces that together put the time arcs in focus (“Now,” “Later” and “Soon”).

And a tone poem extolling the glories of yesterday (“Remember”).

And the waggish “You Must Meet My Wife.”

I was less enthusiastic about “The Miller’s Son,” which the opening night crowd applauded wildly because of a powerful delivery by Melissa McGowan as Petra, a sexpot maid who frequently flaunts her body in hopes of a hook-up.

Yes, it’s the actors who ultimately make the difference, especially Tony Award-winner Karen Ziemba as a disarming, lusty older stage star, Desiree Armfeldt.

Also topping my list is Patrick Cassidy, a Great White Way veteran who plays Fredrik Egerman, Desiree’s then-and-now suitor despite having being married for 11 months to an empty-headed, still virginal 18-year-old Anne (Laurie Veldheer) who contemplates studying Italian only “if the verbs are not too irregular.”

Others I applaud are Dana Ivey as Madame Armfeldt, family matriarch whose facial expressions bring to mind the best of Maggie Smith and who believes that “to lose one’s husband can be vexing…but to lose one’s teeth can be a catastrophe,” and Emily Skinner as Charlotte Malcolm, wife of a philandering warrior (she cynically thinks “love is a dirty business…disgusting…insane”).

Deserving her place in the sun, too, is Brigid O’Brien, a Novato eighth-grader previously featured in The Mountain Play’s “Sound of Music” and “Music Man” and the Ross Valley Players’ “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

Here she portrays Fredrik’s teenage daughter, Fredrika, and is quite remarkable.

For any age — but particularly for hers.

Most of those singing voices are excellent (so commendable, in fact, they make Paolo Montalban’s in the Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm role seem humdrum).

And costumes and hats by Candice Donnelly are so lush — in effect, a parade of fashion worthy of a de Young Museum exhibit — they nearly outdo everything else on stage.

The plot?

Well, it resembles a classic French sexual roundelay and could play as a farce if it didn’t want to deal at least superficially with life’s major dilemmas and dramas.

Lust’s the operative word.

Fredrik pines for Desiree, who excites Count Carl-Magnus, too. Madame Armreldt pines for royal liaisons past. Henrick, Fredrik’s son, pines for Anne. And Petra pines for males in general.

Mark Lamos, who was challenged to equal legendary director-producer Hal Prince, who led the ‘73 “Night Music” version, directed this company.

But he accomplishes his apparent goal — to make the show, like its onstage waltzes, “all about flirtation and eroticism.”

He’s aided by Val Caliparoli’s elegant choreography that incorporates lots of mystery, masks and twirling.

Bottom line: Although flawed, the musical’s a grand peek into youthful passions and aging memories, a who-wants-to-bonk-who tableau set against a midsummer night’s dream-setting at a country estate to Sweden in the late 1900s.

It’ll probably still be playing somewhere in 3015.

“A Little Night Music” plays at the American Conservatory Theater, 415 Geary St., San Francisco, through June 21. Night performances, 7 p.m., Tuesday, June 2 and Sunday, June 21; 8 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays. Matinees, 2 p.m. Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays. Tickets: $20 to $140. Information: (415) 749-2228 or www.act-sf.org.

Contact Woody Weingarten at www.vitalitypress.com/ or voodee@sbcglobal.net