"Cue the fighter jets!"

And just as Billy Porter wound his voice into the national anthem's final, soaring "O say," there came the jets, swooping low over PNC Park.

		'Ghetto Superstar' Where: City Theatre, Bingham and 13th streets, South Side. When: Through May 1; Tues. 7 p.m.; Wed.-Fri. 8 p.m.; Sat. 5:30 and 9 p.m.; Sun. 2 p.m.; some exceptions. Tickets: $15-$40; 412-431-CITY.

Now that's pressure. Porter performed on Broadway, was abused by kids in his Homewood neighborhood, won "Star Search," bantered with Rosie and held a New York stage in his one-man autobiographical show. But this is the first time he had to get his unaccompanied timing just right for a crowd of 38,000 and two screaming jets.

All the while nursing a bad cold, too -- but "nobody wants to know about sick," he pointed out. "I'll just croak this out." So he stepped up to home plate, alone with a mike. Off to the side, Margie Romero, manager of media relations for City Theatre, gripped her hands so tight they probably still show the marks.

And then Porter nailed both "God Bless America" and the national anthem -- clear, sure, high and sweet.

After that, what terrors can there be in baring his autobiographical soul in "Ghetto Superstar," now in previews at City Theatre? ... even if the audience includes some early neighborhood antagonists or the family members who once worried about their black, pudgy, gay, pentecostal Billy, growing up in 1970s-80s Pittsburgh.

Back then, sports was never Porter's thing. Though he played neighborhood football and softball, ran track for a while and swam, he was an overweight child who wasn't very good at it. "It just makes you feel like a loser."

He does remember that his biological father took him to the Pirates celebration after the 1979 World Series. And he swears he always watches a Steelers Super Bowl -- preferably with a halftime show with Diana Ross. "I remember Diana Ross being flown out by a helicopter. It was fabulous."

Many memories of Porter's Pittsburgh childhood, sometimes painful, are featured in "Ghetto Superstar," subtitled "The Man That I Am" and described by City as "told with intensely candid writing and outrageous musical style."

Truth to tell, Porter won't be as alone in front of 270 at City Theatre as he was in front of 38,000 at PNC Park. He gets vocal backup from Maria Becoates Bey and Sherell Davis, along with a musical quartet of Paul Thompson, James T. Johnson III, Benjamin Karp and Tim Tucker. He's been busy the past week teaching them the show. "I'm very thorough," he says. "I'm a Virgo. I like all my stuff in place."

Porter's personal story has been told before, mainly in a biographical Post-Gazette interview 13 months ago when he came to Pittsburgh to star in "Topdog/Underdog" at City Theatre. That gig led City artistic director Tracy Brigden to commission him to create a one-man show. Later in the summer, he was back in Pittsburgh to star in "Dreamgirls" for Pittsburgh CLO, and he was on the cover of this paper in January, when those two shows made him the PG's Performer of the Year.

After "Topdog," with his City commission in hand, Porter had returned to New York, where he has been mentored by New York Public Theatre artistic director and playwright George C. Wolfe ("The Colored Museum," "Jelly's Last Jam"). When he read him his first draft, Wolfe declared he wanted to produce the show at his theater. That had to be worked out with City, which was losing a world premiere but gaining a powerful collaborator.

Other meetings followed with Brigden and City literary manager Carlyn Aquiline. For a director, Brigden suggested Brad Rouse (City's popular "Hedwig and the Angry Inch"), and he and Porter immediately hit it off.

"He's really smart," Porter says. "And he doesn't know me, which I didn't know was important until I met him. He could be really objective in hard, clear, concise terms."

Together, Porter and Rouse started re-writing. Then the Public gave them a specific date, whereupon "everything kicked up a notch."

Porter also wrote about 75 percent of the music, which he describes as "sort of R&B soul music that happens to be theatrical. There aren't a lot of soul musicals, so I had to fight for backup singers, to be true to the style."

"Ghetto Superstar" performed this winter in Joe's Pub, the Public's 150-seat cabaret. It was a hit. "I'm told I got really great reviews," says Porter, who avoids reading them himself. "Ghetto Superstar" proved successful with audiences of different ages and ethnicities. Porter cites a 75-year-old white man who expected to hate it but ended up full of praise. That's because, he says, "the more specific to the truth of who you are, the more universal the story."

Porter says, "I don't think I've ever experienced something so gratifying artistically." Moreover, "I turned a corner with this show; I've really spoken my truth, unapologetically." He hopes the show might "alter the path of someone's life," just as his own was altered by hearing "Dreamgirls" at age 13 and discovering Stephen Sondheim.

But his show was also a shock to people who knew Porter only from Broadway or his previous club act, "At the Corner of Broadway and Soul" (now on CD). Porter had been a quick success in New York after graduating from Carnegie Mellon's musical theater program in 1991, but that was "as a kid." Later, he tried a career as a recording artist and earned a film writing degree. But this show has "reintroduced [him] to the business as an adult," as both writer and performer.

Now, he says, the fear is, "how do you keep doing it?" As Wolfe said opening night, "you've raised the bar. That doesn't mean you can't do BS and make money, but you have to find the balance between BS and art."

Next up is something more traditional, a straight play, "Birdie Blue," which had its second-ever production two years ago at City, starring Irma P. Hall. Then, it was a two-person show, just Birdie and her husband. Now, at off-Broadway's Second Stage, Porter will be the third actor, playing all the others met by leads S. Epatha Merkerson and Ernie Hudson.

"They rarely let us musical theater folk cross over," says a pleased Porter. He starts rehearsals right after his City run ends. That's one way to keep working.

Another is to market your product yourself. Porter's lively Web site www.billyporter.com hawks his several CDs. And he doesn't want "Ghetto Superstar" to end here. "I'm beyond somebody getting me a job; I've created the job." He says there's a buzz about the show in New York, where it was a tough ticket to get. So he has a commodity; he just has to find buyers.