Tomatoestried to Kill mebut Banjos Saved My Life show A True Story
Tomatoes Tried to Kill Me but Banjos Saved My Life isn’t just a show, it’s a cause. A heartfelt passion project that began as a nudge after Keith Alessi’s life took a major turn, it has been his mission to raise money for causes close to his heart. Through donations, including 100% of all artist fees, the show has raised over $1.2 Million Dollars (CAD) as of November 2025 for various charities including cancer organizations, music programs, community groups and artist funding and development.
The show has sold out runs across Canada, Off-Broadway in New York City, and at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in Scotland 3 years in a row. It has toured internationally including Canada, the US, England, Scotland and Australia.
Keith shares his exceptional true story of leaving the world of corporate board rooms behind to follow his long-delayed passion—playing the banjo! When faced with a deadly cancer battle, his musical pursuit took him on a journey that became the key to saving his life. Told through authentic storytelling, heartfelt humor and music, Keith’s story is an uplifting tale of challenge, triumph, and the the healing power of the arts and music.
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INSPIRING COMMUNITY STORIES
Yesterday I was sharing about going through an overnight sleep apnea test and how the lack of locks on the doors and having someone watch me all night, would have been impossible years ago. I was reminded of my first colonoscopy about 40 years ago, where I insisted on hugging a book throughout the procedure. Through many years of counseling, particularly with the spiritual aspect of the Immanuel Approach developed by psychiatrist, Dr. Karl Lehman, I am now able to do many things with peace and joy, that I formerly couldn't do, as a survivor of childhood incest. Over many years, I also found comfort by singing in choirs and playing the piano with groups. Now I am very glad for Adaptable Outdoors that helps me enjoy fishing and kayaking since I have become disabled. Thank you, Keith, for your play which I saw at Rosebud a few years ago. I hope to see it again and share the experience with friends.
I remember my dad playing the banjo. He wasn’t a professional musician, but played at home and at Bluegrass festivals. That sound carried with it laughter, comfort, and a sense of home.
2017 was a strange, heavy year. Dad died in the spring, and by the autumn, I had my own battle to face—breast cancer. Everything felt emptier, quieter. The banjo was gone, and with it, the soundtrack of my childhood.
This summer, I went to the Fringe and saw Keith perform. His music caught me completely off guard. There I was, surrounded by laughter and the hum of the crowd, and suddenly—I was back at home with Dad playing the banjo. I cried, overcome with a wave of grief, love, and memory. It was one of those moments when the past and present collide, where joy and sorrow sit side by side.
I cried, not just for the loss, but for the continuity—the way music can reach across time, touch a part of us that nothing else can, and remind us of those we’ve lost. That day, Keith’s music wasn’t just a performance. It was a bridge. It was Dad playing again, if only for a moment, in the room of my heart.