February 28, 2003

Thanks to Connie for this

Thanks to Connie for this one: Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him.... what? (Oh man, this is so bad, it's good) A super callused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

Two upcoming events I wish

Two upcoming events I wish I could see

1. A.C. making his diva debut this weekend at Somewhere in the Night, where he'll be peforming I Can Cook Too from On the Town. No expenses was spared on costuming this number -- seems he's just wearing a chef's hat and an apron. Hmm, and I'd heard it was cold in Toronto.

2. Mardi Gras' Bourbon Street Awards where our dear friend Blanche DeBris (you'll never be bigger than she is) will be cohosting, as well as peforming as a little(??) Dutch girl, complete with clogging, yodeling and, yes, a live goat. Word has it PETA will not be sponsoring this event.

The Friday Five 1. What

The Friday Five

1. What is your favorite type of literature to read (magazine, newspaper, novels, nonfiction, poetry, etc.)? Novels.

2. What is your favorite novel?
Mrs. Dalloway and The Posionwood Bible

3. Do you have a favorite poem? (Share it!) Nothing comes to mind. "There was an old man from Nantucket ..."

4. What is one thing you've always wanted to read, or wish you had more time to read?
Crime and Punishment. One of these days I'll finish Middlemarch.

5. What are you currently reading? The Lost Continent and The Threatening Storm. Oddly, neither are a novel.

February 27, 2003

Thanks to Tracey in Australia

Thanks to Tracey in Australia for sending me some endless love.

When's the John Howard version coming out?

Paging Gordon Lightfoot ... or

Paging Gordon Lightfoot ... or Amber

If I could read your mind, love .....

Not such a beautifual day

Not such a beautifual day in the neighborhood. Everyone should don their black cardigans.

February 26, 2003

Oh good, they picked the

Oh good, they picked the ugly one.

Memo to self: find Pat Benatar's Greatest Hits and put it on the iPod. Popped into a bar to kill some time before the show tonight and it was playing. Amazing. Britney honey, love ya, but you should take notes.

So armed and ready I fought love's battle in the night ... well, actually just walked over to NYTW and watched the two extended monologues. Turns out hell is for children, especially if one grows up in Bexley, Ohio. The pieces weren't bad -- a little long at just under an hour each. Yikes. A lot long.

One-person shows are always a little dodgy, especially when they're written by the performer and dealing primarily with mom and dad issues dating back to the 50s and 60s. Rebellious daughter who's a budding artiste. Dad's a little abusive. Mom's a transplanted Boston social climbing (in Bexley?) republican who thinks JFK was the anti-christ yet pledges her support to the civil-rights minded housekeeper "after all, I have a house full of African violets." The first act was a little stiff, the second a little fluffy and both a little forced. But it was only the fifth night of previews and I think Ms. Holmes pulled off her pieces and has made her peace. A none-too filling evening of theater -- Catharsis Light.

I sat in the first row in between two single guys well beyond their 50s. One kept nodding off and the other kept repeating all the lines that he laughed at -- and there were many. It was almost like watching tv back home in Ohio.

Seems Larry made it home from the CMfH and doesn't look too bloody. Can't wait to hear how the revolution is shaping up.

Have tickets to Bexley, (OH)

Have tickets to Bexley, (OH) ! tonight -- curtain's in an hour or so and I just am so unmotivated to go. Larry's stuck in the Condo Meeting from Hell and none of the usual suspects seem interested in a one-woman show about growing up in suburban small town Ohio. Imagine that.

Don't really feel like going home and waiting for the CMfH be over. Could I possibly have the unexpected hat trick of good nights out in the city? If only it weren't so blasted cold.

What ever happened to seeing a play for the sake of seeing a play? For having a random NY night out? Perhaps I'll toss on a coat and take young Phil's advice, "see the play...then if it isn't good...drink to ease the pain! ! !" Ah, I raised him so very well.

Off I go ... this is me, living on the edge.

Don't say "stroke" Saw Fifth

Don't say "stroke"

Saw Fifth of July tonight, but before I get to that -- how much fun was Chelsea Commons tonight for a burger and fries after the show? First burger in weeks (remember ... Bonaire is just around the bend) and the Winona look-alike waitress was the bomb. Shoplifted nothing (although she kept wanting to "try on" my coat and Larry's briefcase) and wrote our order on a stolen prescription pad. And Belinda Carlise was on the juke box reminding us that Heaven is a Place on Earth. Oh baby, I know what that's worth.

Burgers and an excellent jukebox only a block and a half from the apartment, which was a short cab ride away from the theater, which was a quick stroll away from cocktails at Barrage, which was a 10-minute (albeit bitter cold) walk (via Times Square) from work. 2 nights in a row being way too happy to live in Manhattan.

meanwhile, back at the theater . . .

Had never seen or read this play in all those years of trying to act, but heard so much about it. I really enjoyed it ... wished I could be in it at some point, although as old as I've been feeling lately, the only role I could play is Sally (who was dead on).

Loved the actors playing Jed (Michael Gladis) and Weston (Ebon Moss-Bachrach). So present and so connected ... especially Gladis in a role of the quiet nurturer who loves so hard and provides such strength, even if it means letting go. "I have work to do." Parker Posey was a lot of fun, but how cool would it be to jump into the time machine and see a young Swoozie sink her teeth into Gwen.

I'd read in a couple reviews that the second act is where all the drama unfurls ... well. Ten minutes into the act an old lady a couple seats over from us gets up and starts edging her way to the aisle (we were in the center). She walks down the steps toward the stage, gets toward the exit at the bottom of stage right, presumably just out of the actors' view, and quietly collapses. A couple guys in the front row jump up to attend to her and got help from the lobby. So there she was, laying there just off stage, dimly lit by the downstage-right lights, looking not unlike a corpse, but not really too distracting unless you'd noticed in the first place. The show went on for a good 5-10 minutes -- several people (including Larry and me) watching the drama to the left and trying to keep up with what was transpiring onstage. The cast kept right on going, though. Amazing concentration. Then the paramedics came in. 3-4 firemen followed, walkie-talkies blaring away.

"And I think we should pause," says Kenneth Talley. I don't have Lanford Wilson's script on my bookshelf, but I venture to say that line is not in it.

Have heard many accounts of a show being stopped, but never been there when it happened. The cast was great about it (especially Robert Sean Leonard). Several of the cast left the stage after he called for a break. He asked for the house lights, they were turned up and someone in the front row made a remark to him about everyone leaving him on stage to which he responded, "Well, I can't walk." And so the witty banter began. The audience was delighted -- except for the lady in the audience who whined "can you please speak up so we all can hear?" I guess she had to get her money's worth. And then there was the lady next to me who says to her neighbor, "I had no idea why they were stopping. I thought there was a fire or it was terrorists."

The lady was taken out of the house and the cast came back, decided where to pick up (a couple pages back -- "even though you know Wes' punch line"), and plowed right in. One of the best parts of the night was watching everyone fall back into character and moving the story forward. Really made me miss the process of theater -- one of the few times I've paid money to be reminded there's a ton of "work" going on to make things look so real on stage. Well done to everyone.

Almost forgot that they'd even had to stop until the "secret" comes out that Sally had collapsed at the funeral and she may have had a stroke. Parke Posey was so funny in her "don't say stroke" bits -- I wonder if she (Parker) was at all self-conscious during those bits -- and what was going through Pamela Payton-Wright's mind when she was talking about seeing two of everything at the funeral just before she collapsed. Life imitating art imitating life.

How ironic that it's very well what may have happened to the sweet old lady who was tonight's real showstopper. I hope she's well.

February 25, 2003

Half-baked Daytime, but no Easy

Half-baked Daytime, but no Easy Cheese ...

Varla as Rosemary Chicken on the last few episodes of AMC.

February 24, 2003

Had dinner in the Village

Had dinner in the Village at Valdino's (still my vote for the best pasta) tonight with a friend from Atlanta. She couldn't get over how many people were just wandering the streets, and how many were walking their dogs. And it was Monday ... not busy outside at all.

After dinner we walked around, admiring the shops and apartments -- wondering which were single family dwellings and what they were like in the days of Edith Wharton. It was such a simple night -- the kind of night that makes me glad to be in the city and be grateful that I don't have to get in a car to get from one place to the next; that I don't live in the 'burbs; that I can spend a couple hours in a tiny hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant with great pasta, good Chianti and really interesting conversation. Not rushed, not with an agenda to get somewhere else. Just a nice evening, enjoying the moment.

Sometimes you need those kinds of nights to remind yourself just how good it is to live in New York.

Friday Five on a Monday

Friday Five on a Monday afternoon.

1. What is your most prized material possession? This week it's a toss up between the iPod and the Tivo. In two weeks it'll be my regulator. Hello Bonaire!

2. What item, that you currently own, have you had the longest? The only thing that comes to mind is an award certificate from the La Habra Boys' Club -- for leg lifts. Imagine. Keep finding it on a "throw 10 things away" spree (see below) and meaning to frame it.

3. Are you a packrat? Recovering packrat. But I go on my "throw 10 things away" binges.

4. Do you prefer a spic-and-span clean house? Or is some clutter necessary to avoid the appearance of a museum? Museum pristine is annoying, but there's rarely any worry about that. Hate the clutter but hate to do anything about it even more.

5. Do the rooms in your house have a theme? Or is it a mixture of knick-knacks here and there? Oh sure ... the theme is "when's the cleaning lady get here?"

I'll take "who knew" for

I'll take "who knew" for $300. Amy Sohn writes about hasbians in a recent New York magazine. Will we be seeing this on the new season of SATC? Or does Samantha's foray with the Spiderwoman already cover that?

A little research reveals the term's been around for over a decade.

February 23, 2003

Am I the only person

Am I the only person in the world who just doesn't get Vanessa Carlton? Whiney, nasal and apparently (at least on the Grammy's) retaining water. She and Avril and Michelle Branch all just need to go away. Gwen Stefani should just walk up and slap 'em.

John Mayer, on the other hand -- my vote for best new artist. Whaddya mean I don't get a vote? Is Dubya in charge of this too? Aaggh.

The chuchbells at the seminary

The chuchbells at the seminary down the street are playing "Zippity Do Da." How wrong is that?

Didn't think it could be

Didn't think it could be much uglier outside than yesterday. Surprise!! A rainy Saturday has turned into a foggy, gray Sunday.

Surprised my head's not as foggy as it is outside the apartment. Went to Isla last night and the cayenne-rimmed margarita were amazing. So good I had to have three just to be certain. Then it was off to Barrage and the Eagle...

Saturday's synchronicity -- during dinner we were talking about Lafitte's in NOLA and telling J&B about Steven. Who shows up in the Eagles' Nest a couple hours later but Connie herself; as if willed into existence by my Cuban cuisine conjuring.

February 22, 2003

A crappy day in NYC

A crappy day in NYC -- what else to to but jump on the blog wagon.

Created a new domain today -- www.capetip7.com. This week's new obsession. Bikram last month, weight watchers last week, now a website to rent the condo in Ptown and perhaps to host this blog. But for now it'll have to start on blogger.

Other than that, headed to the gym (fell in love twice) and made some veggie rice soup here at home. News definitely worth posting on the Internet.