March 31, 2003

Well that was fun --

Well that was fun -- especially the first half -- and they raised over a half-million $. Very nice. I'm still sooooo lovin' her. Can't wait till she wins this. If he were any gayer ... well, bless his heart, he just couldn't be. She's still the luckiest woman in theater. Those girls just loved him (that sappy song still makes me, sniff, tear up) and them (whaaaa ... they've never seen a kick line before?). Mama can still sing and hoof. She was stunning. A fun night, even if that number in the second act does sound an awful lot like this.

Last day of March and

Last day of March and it's supposed to be 29 degrees tonight, colder with the windchill. So much for March going out like a lamb -- unless you count the lamb at the bottom of my Grandma Bunny's basement freezer. Brrrr.

Oh please. Don't these people

Oh please. Don't these people have anything better to worry about? Would that I had a howler to send.

March 30, 2003

Things I was going to

Things I was going to do this weekend that just didn't happen:

1. Anything work related
2. Finishing at least one of the books I’m reading
3. Yoga class
4. The Spring cleaning of my office
5. Grocery shopping

Things I got done this weekend; some planned, most not:

1. My taxes
2. Far From Heaven, it was just as good (better?) the second time
3. Very fun cocktails w/ Larry and Chris at The Townhouse, of all places
4. The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys
5. Took a run and got motivated to start up again
6. Made a batch of oatmeal cookies
7. Big, hard, unexpected laugh at Sydney, making a skirt out of wrapping paper at Rite Aid

Things to look forward to this week

1. Mack and Mabel tomorrow night
2. Christine's bday party Friday night
3. The SF scuba boys coming into town for a visit

My legs are heavy. So

My legs are heavy. So heavy I can hardly lift them, as if they’re not bone and muscle, but cement-filled sausages. And when I muster the strength to move one foot forward, it’s like dragging my shoe through a river of sludge. The harder I try to run, the more I realize I’m not moving. Anybody else had that dream?

That was my reality yesterday. Spring had sprung and I had a couple hours before we were scheduled to go uptown to catch Far From Heaven a second time, before Oscar's snub finds it vanquished it from the big screen. Not really enough time to go to the gym, but enough time to try to get my running groove back on.

I pull on a pair of gym shorts.

“Where are you going?” Larry asks.

“I’ve gotta get outside and do something. Gonna go for a short run. Just half an hour. One minute of running and and two of walking. Ease myself back into it.”

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Just to get the old heart rate up and do something good for myself instead of blog surfing and thinking I’ve smoked way too many cigarettes over the past week. Yeah, I’d stopped that a long time ago, but Bloomberg’s taking away an inalienable right this week, so I’ve spent the last week lighting up in every bar I walk by.

Feet ensconced in my trusty New Balance 1040s, iPod charged up and turned on shuffle, I set out. The first two minutes were easy. Who can’t walk for 120 seconds? Run, walk, repeat. By the time I’m on the third or fourth interval, I’m huffing and puffing down along the Hudson River, wondering how the hell it was possible I actually ran a marathon some five months ago. “Use it or lose it,” they say. I think I’ve lost it. Keeping one eye on the path ahead of me and the other on my watch’s second hand, I plod forward, waiting for it to sweep back up to 12 and let me know my minute’s up so I can walk again.

I reach the fifteen minute mark. Time to turn around and head home, but I haven’t gone nearly far enough, so I push on towards Houston. I used to be able to get further than this in far less time. How pathetic. Even more pathetic is when I see this hot runner approaching me as I hit another 1-minute interval and won’t let myself stop because I don’t want him to think I’m back to novicedom, on the run-walk program. Like he would even notice.

So I get to Pier 40, turn around and head back north. 20 minutes and half-way done. I add 15 seconds to the run part and think that I might be able to get back into this running thing after all. When is the NYRRC’s next 5K? Short term goals are good. The trip back is easier than the trek out. And when I get to the last running segment, Supersister reminds me that “Summer Gonna Come Again.” Truer words were never sung. I smile as I begin the cooldown for the last couple of blocks before I get to the apartment.

Back home, I crank up the CD player. Alison Moyet’s Singles is on. I do some stretches, a few crunches, and I find myself shirtless, sweaty and lip-synching “Ordinary Girl” into the living room mirror.

Larry comes out of the bedroom, looks at me and laughs. “Sure didn’t take you long to find an endorphin, did it?”

That’s the thing. They’re easier to find than we think, those endorphins. I sometimes forget that they're just a half-hour (maybe 40 minutes) away.

March 29, 2003

Whores Against Wars. Now that's

Whores Against Wars. Now that's funny.

Freedom Isn’t Free It’s bleak.

Freedom Isn’t Free

It’s bleak. It’s often uncomfortable to watch. It’s bloody. It’s about what a mother’s love will carry her to do.

Fucking A, at the Public, is a dark brew of classic tragedy (Medea), Brecht (Mother Courage) and Nathaniel Hawthorne (The Scarlet Letter). There aren’t many surprises, but there are some wonderful performances in a piece that falls into the “theater that makes you squirm” canon.

It opens in a small town in a small country in the middle of nowhere. Hester Smith comes in for her ritual clean-up after a night’s work. A candle is lit. Meat hooks and hoses hang from the catwalk above. The blood is washed off the latex gloves and her collection of medical instruments (perhaps last seen in Dead Ringers?) are hosed off and dropped (clank, clank) into a metal bucket for the next customer. She’s a modern Hester Prynne, but the A she wears isn’t embroidered on her smock, it’s branded onto her breast … and the smock is cut open, by law, so that everyone can see. She is an abortionist, not an adulterer. Her services are not illegal, but still condemened to be out the outskirts of the civilized world. She is a necessary evil, performs a function that is simultaneously good and bad. She toils to save gold coins to secure her son's freedom. He has been, she believes, wrongly imprisoned for a minor crime, accused by the wife of her small town's mayor.

I think the standout of the show is S. Epatha Merkerson. Her Hester is so weighed down by the world … her profession, her unrelenting quest to secure her son’s freedom. Mos Def was eerily childlike as the Monster, Hester’s son who has escaped from prison. Peter Gerety’s Butcher was very touching (notwithstanding the none-too-subtle matching bloody aprons and parallels between his and Hester’s profession).

Perhaps the show tries to address too much – abortion, the justice system, society’s justification of hurting those who’ve been accused of hurting others. How far removed are we from a bunch of redneck hunters who will track down human "low life" in the name of justice and sport? At least they didn't eat what they kill .... "that would be a bit much."

It’s a little self-aware – but isn’t all Brechtian theater? Perhaps it’s a little to oversimplified – but isn’t that the heart of fable and myth ... a simple story with a deeper message?

Like The Handmaid’s Tale, this is a story that you’re drawn into and upon leaving, are thankful that it’s not the way the world really is. Yet. I'm sure I'll reread Ms. Atwood somewhere down the road. I'm glad to have seen Fucking A, but don't know that I need to go there again.

March 28, 2003

Friday Five 1. What was

Friday Five

1. What was your most memorable moment from the last week? A guy in a bar comes up to my friend and says, "You want some crystal?"

Friend shrugs, "sure, if you're giving it away." Friend goes off to bathroom, comes back a little too quickly, gives me the handoff and tells me to check it out. I saunter off to men's room, open the packet (which is half a 100 peso note) and inside find 20-30 tiny little gemstones, all cut and polished. Probably cubic zirc or somesuch. Returned packet to friend, who returned it to guy. "Um, thanks, but I think you might want this back."

Guy freaked a little (tweaky much?), thanked us profusely for the safe return saying he wouldn't have been able to pay rent without it. We were left wondering how one pays rent with crappy little fake gemstones.

2. What one person touched your life this week? His writing.

3. How have you helped someone this week? Gave tweaky guy his gems back.

4. What one thing do you need to get done by this time next week? Package and ship out all the thank you letters and gifts for the newest round of corporate sponsors.

5. What one thing will you do over the next seven days to make your world a better place? Heroin. Oh wait, that would be a bad thing. Seriously, I need to do a big spring cleanup/purge of my office and my email inbox at work. Purge, prioritize, plan the next action and get on with it all.

Psst, anybody need a dog

Psst, anybody need a dog collar?

So much I want to write about.

I promised her to talk about this (I think it's better than the reviews give credit for). I sent a mail to him and am afraid he thinks I'm a freakish stalker. Really I'm just in awe. I told a friend about him and later copped a ride home on the back of his motorcycle, which is always fun -- this time all the better wearing a Brooks Brothers suit and no helmet. There I go, living on the edge again. I never wear a suit, but had corporate drag on this afternoon for a very strange lunch with a vendor at this place (Union League Club, couldn't find a website), where he offered to sponsor me if I wanted to join. I don't think I'm their demographic.

Yeah, so much to write about, and yet it's time to go to bed. Another successful LT7 (I guess I should explain that someday as well) over and done with, more stories to either ponder, expound upon, write about or write off.


Where were you?

March 27, 2003

But Auntie Mame says they

But Auntie Mame says they take up so much room in the glass.

But Auntie Mame says they

But Auntie Mame says they take up so much room in the glass.

March 26, 2003

My nephew, in the sixth

My nephew, in the sixth grade, is working on his social studies report. He's chosen to write about the Gulf War. We're trying to get him to title the paper "Sins of the Father." It seems spell check doesn't pick up everything and the leader of Iraq is now Sadism Hussein. Close enough.

In today's Playbill News: "Meanwhile,

In today's Playbill News: "Meanwhile, columnist Cindy Adams reports that Los Angeles gossip has actress Melanie Griffith in talks to play Roxie in the Broadway company of Chicago." Maybe Susan Lucci will be Velma.

Oh my.

I preface this by stating

I preface this by stating that I'm no opera queen, but I don't dislike it by any means ...

Saw Baz's Boheme last night and, try as I may to get caught up in the whole thing, I'm still underwhelmed. It was "opera lite." The music and singing were beautiful -- although at times (and thanks Bert, for making me think about this), it sounded oh-so-perfectly mixed, like a studio production. The sets were amazing and the staging very cool -- so much going on, especially during the 2nd half of Act 2. Loved Marcello (Eugene Brancoveanu). And a big shout out to the blonde in the wife beater in the downstage right balcony.

But when all's sung and done, I didn't ever connect to the show. I do remember getting that connection when I saw it at the Met a few years ago. It all seemed so compact (how did they land that helicopter on such a tiny stage?) Maybe because it's so edited down (the whole show runs 2.25 hours, including scene changes and a 20-minute intermission). Maybe it's because I thought the "modern" subtitles trivialized it. Maybe it's just an overproduced theatrical event that didn't live up to all the hype. Maybe I'm just missing something. I said the same thing about The Lion King. It's pagentry, not musical theater. I'm glad to have seen it, but I think less is more. Bring back Once On This Island.

Take all this with a grain of salt ... I was probably one of the 5 fags in the world who left Moulin Rouge! saying, "yeah, I guess it was all right." I'm told it's better the second time.

And to the idiot behind me who, when talking about the last time he was at the Broadway, seeing Miss Saigon, said, "I felt like a POW myself, having my fingernails pulled out." Yes, it may have been the Harlequin Romance of musicals, but think about what's coming out of your mouth. We've got (at least) seven of them out there right now. Have a little respect.

March 25, 2003

Another clue the world is

Another clue the world is ending ...

The boys at the Big Cup went out of their way to be friendly and helpful this morning.

March 24, 2003

Just when you thought there

Just when you thought there was nothing to do on a Wednesday night...

"Junk pop, disco memories, new wave shit, top 40 hits" ... it's all Crap. And never a cover.

Remember everyone, safety first.

Remember everyone, safety first.

'Show me show me show

'Show me show me show me how you do that trick
The one that makes me scream' she said
'The one that makes me laugh' she said
And threw her arms around my neck
'Show me how you do it
And I promise you I promise that
I'll run away with you
I'll run away with you'

The Cure was just on the radio and I'm flashed back to spring of 1985, driving around New Orleans with the top down in my Suzuki Samarai, listening to a homemade tape called "Tonka Tracks."

First day back in the office in two weeks. Gotta focus on the tasks at hand, but that was a nice mini mental holiday. Anyone up for a quick lunch in the Quarter?

You. Soft and only
You. Lost and lonely
You, Strange as angels
Dancing in the deepest oceans
Twisting in the water
You're just like a dream

Obligatory Oscar post Too tired

Obligatory Oscar post

Too tired to really write much, but ...

1. Steve Martin stole my Sean Connery wears a lobster bib joke. Yeah, it was obvious, but I have the time stamp to prove it.
2. What was Cloris Leachman wearing in her hair? Oh, it was a tribute to Marlee Matlin's acceptance sign, er, speech.
3. Meryl should have her own talk show.
4. Jennifer Jones. Oh my.
5. Cameron Diaz chomping on gum, pulling on her hair. Was her publicist just screaming?
7. Ms. Sarandon took the high road. Good for her.
8. Did Bruce Vilanch a) even try this year and/or b) get paid for that?
9. How come they didn't put Karl Malden and young Michael Douglas (how can he possibly be younger than Gordon Gekko was some 15 years ago) together?
10. Hang in there Julianne. You're still the best thing out there.

March 23, 2003

Just posted a slew of

Just posted a slew of pictures from the Bonaire trip. Spent most the day trying to figure out how to do it with Dreamweaver and Fireworks. Almost had a gallery with captions, but I crashed after an hour of typing captions. Grrr. Maybe galleries aren't supposed to have 90 pictures? Oh well, it's none too fancy, but at least it's up.

March 22, 2003

Dear Deity, Thank you so

Dear Deity,

Thank you so much for putting all the cute boys on Flight 1616 this morning. Sitting on the plane and watching them board was a real treat. I especially enjoyed the tall, beefy 20ish blonde guy (whom I took the liberty of naming Christian) and the dark-haired, Latin 30-something (we’ll call him Miguel). Bonus for scooping out Miguel in the Crown Room and then having him get on the same flight. You do awfully good work sometimes.

I know you’re probably busy and all, what with the Crusade. BTW, did you hear Dubya the other night when he called his little war a “Crusade?” I mean, sure, there are plenty o’ parallels between Operation Avenge My Daddy and the medieval purging of infidel barbarians, but really – did he have to go there on national TV? As if he wasn’t self-righteous enough the past few months. A Crusade. Really. What’s next? Middle-aged, over-insured white men telling women what they can or cannot do with their reproductive health? Oh wait, that’s happening too. I digress.

Anyway, you’ve got a lot on your plate, but next time you get a slew of hotties together on a plane, would you mind sitting a couple of them next to me? Not that the obese, snoring, elderly gentleman with a nasty head cold wasn’t a delight to sit next to, but to put so much eye candy on the plane and then make it all sit in coach seems a little like teasing. I was going to walk back and offer them a drink, but there was a lot of turbulence and the captain kept the fasten seat belts light on. Again, I can’t help but think it’s a little on the teasing side. I‘m sure it was just an oversight.

A couple more quick questions and then I’ll let you get back to more pressing matters. When did my grandma start planning the menus for Delta? A salad of raisins and shredded carrots? That was one from the culinary vaults, eh? Also, when the flight attendant passes out the hot towels at the beginning of the flight, is it bad form to blow your nose in it? Like I said, the guy in 2D really did have a bad cold, but just wanted to check on the protocol. I’m pretty sure I don’t need a ruling on his coughing up phloogies and spitting them into the airsick bag … that’s just plain wrong.

Thanks again for all your help. I really am appreciative. If Christian or Miguel need a place to stay or someone to hang with while they’re in NY, let them know I’m happy to lend a hand.



P.S. Don’t know if you’ve ever been diagnosed with the GERD or not, but here’s a helpful little tidbit. If you take a business trip and end up going a little overboard on the spicy food, drinking and social smoking don’t forget to pack your Nexium. Heartburn really isn’t one of your better creations. Cheers.

Friday Five 1. If you

Friday Five

1. If you had the chance to meet someone you've never met, from the past or present, who would it be? Geraldine Page.

2. If you had to live in a different century, past or future, which would it be?
Do I get to go back in time with modern knowledge?? If not, then probably a toss-up between England in the late 1800's and sometime in the 2200's.

3. If you had to move anywhere else on Earth, where would it be? Sydney.

4. If you had to be a fictional character, who would it be? Nick Carraway.

5. If you had to live with having someone else's face as your own for the rest of your life, whose would it be? Someone who wasn't very well known ... losing your anonymity could be a drag. On the other hand, it wouldn't suck to look like Will Kemp.

This Central Command briefing that's

This Central Command briefing that's on CNN right now is ridiculous. Tommy Franks gets on tv and says "we are prepared to use military force." Duh. Big army man's got quite the keen sense of the obvious.

Heading back to NY in about an hour to give my liver a rest as another lovely trip to Atlanta comes to a close. Looks like a beautiful day for flying (and detox).

March 21, 2003

Toto, I don't think we're

Toto, I don't think we're in New York anymore ...

I was walking up Peachtree to the office this morning, and someone was mowing the grass outside of their office building.

The first day of Spring, the skies are blue; I'm walking up a decidedly uncrowded sidewalk and smelling fresh-cut grass. How weird is that?

March 19, 2003

Well, we knew it was

Well, we knew it was coming, and here it is. War. A war that we are starting and Bush gets on the TV and says we're playing defense. Maybe we should all chip in and send him a dictionary. Wierd thing is, he really believes he's doing the right thing.

I'm sad, I'm scared and I wish I was home and not alone in this hotel in Atlanta. I feel like I should do something or write something important or jump up and down and scream at the television. But I think I'll just go to bed and get some sleep. It's all too exhausting. I hope I don't have nightmares.

Meditate for peace y'all, and let's hope (against hope) it comes quickly.

Somone please help Cuba pick

Somone please help Cuba pick his projects. From Snow Dogs to Boat Trip ... yikes.

March 18, 2003

“Ladies and gentlemen, Delta is

“Ladies and gentlemen, Delta is pleased to offer you in-flight entertainment. Headsets are located in the seat pocket in front of you and the sound will be on Channel 1.”

The TV set drops down from the ceiling, the screen lights up and a trailer for Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets comes on. Cool … the plane was delayed, Atlanta’s got a holding pattern going and they’re going to show a movie on the flight from La Guardia to Hartsfield. The flight’s not usually long enough for a movie, but what the hell. I don the headset, close my notebook, turn off the overhead light and lean back to enjoy the movie. Didn’t see it in the theater, ‘cause it came out while we were in Australia and then the holidays interrupted our movie-going schedule.

Ten minutes into the show, the video goes blank. When it lights back up, we’re watching the all too familiar intro to “Delta Horizons” and I’m soon half-giggling at a rerun of Friends. Apparently the trolley dolly screwed up and put the wrong tape in. Upon realizing her mistake, she stopped the tape and changed cassettes. No apologies, no announcement, no nothing, just a tease. Would it have been such a crime to let the movie play? I guess I’ll have to rent Harry’s second adventure after all.

At least I got my upgrade. “Why yes, I will have another vodka soda, thanks.”

Well, if it wasn't a

Well, if it wasn't a frightening world yesterday before 8pm, it certainly is now. When are we going into Iran and North Korea?

Robin Cook left Blair's cabinet over the impending war. Too bad nobody in Washington has the balls to do the same thing. Good ol' George really believes he's doing the right thing, that God's on his side (but it's not a religious war) and that we Americans (read George W. Bush) have the right to do whatever the hell we want. I'm overwhelmed by his hubris ... didn't he read any of the Greek or Shakespearean tragedies when he was in school? He did go to school at some point, didn't he?

Scary times, eh?

On a lighter note ...

When I was heading home from Sunday's walk along the Hudson, I passed Hogs and Heifers. A slew of Harley's were parked outside, a couple bikers hanging outside the open door to the saloon. Blaring away on the jukebox was Dolly Parton wailing "Nine to Five" ... never would have bet on that as a soundtrack.

What a way to make a living.

March 16, 2003

Spring just might have busted

Spring just might have busted through today. It was gorgeous outside. Had brunch with some PAICR pals at Grange Hall and then took a really long walk through the Village, down into Tribecca and then to the river. I think God's getting ready to let the cute boys out for the season. People were out jogging, blading and just hanging out to enjoy the day. I walked and watched and sat on park benches with a notebook, just taking it all in. Was out walking and writing for about 3 hours.

One of the parks along the river has a cement wall at the entrance. There was this man there, holding his baby on top of the wall ... she was bundled up in fleece, on her hands and knees, just looking around, eyes wide open, smiling and drooling. Wiggling around, but safe in her daddy's hands. Here it was, the nicest day of the year and it struck me that it very well may have been the nicest day of her life. She certainly wasn't old enough to have been around last spring or summer. What a great day to be outside, safe and happy and so unaware of anything but how good the sun feels on your face. I hope she, and the rest of us, have many many more warm, sunny, carefree days like this one.

Friday Five 1. Do you

Friday Five

1. Do you like talking on the phone? Why or why not? All depends who I'm talking to. I'm on the phone a lot at work, so it's not a big priority once I get home.

2. Who is the last person you talked to on the phone? C.B. Very entertaining conversation/post-vacation catch up.

3. About how many telephones do you have at home? 3 extensions on one line (all cordless -- it's ridiculous for an 850 square foot apartment), plus 2 cells (one for each of us).

4. Have you encountered anyone who has really bad phone manners? What happened? "Okay then, gotta go." Click.

5. Would you rather pick up the phone and call someone or write them an e-mail or a letter? Why or why not? Depends. Phone is much more effective at work -- email is one of the best and worst tools ever invented. If something needs to happen, then it's phone. If it's general information, then email.

March 15, 2003

It's a pretty amazing world.

It's a pretty amazing world. Have just spent the last week on this arid little island in the South Caribbean. 10,000 people live there, and apparently it's really busy right now. But you could walk the street at night and count the people you'd see on one hand. Burros wander the streets and you look up and see nothing but bazillions of stars.

Through the magic of air travel, I'm now back in New York, another little island, not so arid and there are people everywhere. Horns honking. No burros, but burrito shops if you know where to look for them. You look up and see the Empire State Building and airplanes in line to land at 3 airports. I never get over going away and then coming back here and realizing it's where I live. As much as it gets to me sometimes -- the noise, the hustle, the hassle of it all -- I come back from my little adventures with such an awe of the city. I'm grateful to be able to live here, and so grateful to be able to get away as much as I do. It's a good balance.

I spent a lot of time "microdiving" this past week -- just hanging out on top of a reef and watching what happens instead of swimming about, trying to find the next cool thing to look at. It's amazing how many things you see when you stop looking for them. The most beautiful colors. The most amazing coral formations and sponges, with little fish swimming in and out of the crevices. Baby spotted moray eels popping their heads out of cracks, looking for something to eat. So much life just swimming and crawling about -- not fighting the currents or the surge, just going along for the ride and being alive.

I really have to remember to do that here in the city as well -- "microdive." There's so much going on, but if you just hover and breathe, there is beauty in the minutia and the interaction of it all is truly amazing.

Oh sure, there's a buttload of ugly here too, but we'll just focus on the pretty colors for now.

Back from Bonaire, where the

Back from Bonaire, where the weather's perfect, the diving's lots of fun (but not specacular), the company's hysterical and the overall effect is complete relaxation. Bonus ... it almost feels like Spring here in NYC.

Had to get up at 4am to fly out (who planned that??!??!?) and am pretty much bushed. Don't know whether to write, unpack, catch up on other blog reading or just go find some friends at a 7pm cabaret show at the Duplex. Busy busy busy.

March 7, 2003

Vacation's all I ever wanted,

Vacation's all I ever wanted, vacation have to get away ...

Belinda Carlisle is the blessed angel on my shoulder right now. The project from the 6th circle of hell has been put to bed (for the second time in a month) and, as far as work's concerned, I'm incommunicado for a week. I'm all packed. The wetsuit, BCD, shorts and t-shirts are in the bag and the regulator and Auntie Mame are in the carry-on. The plane leaves in 13 hours and on Sunday I'll be underwater.


If I breathe deeply and focus, I can feel the 84 degree noon, the 75 degree midnight and the 80 degree water. Hello moray eel. Hello coral. Hello grunts. Hello young cabana boy from Bonaire.

I've read there's Internet access at Captain Don's, but if not, I've got the archaic notebook and a pen. I hope everyone has a great week, and if I don't check in, there'll be a summary in 7or 8 days.

Peace to everybody. Stay warm, stay well and pray that Spring blossoms in the city by the time I get back.

The Friday Five 1. What

The Friday Five

1. What was the last song you heard? Vacation (when I looked up the link of my last post)

2. What were the last two movies you saw? The Life of David Gale and something crappy on HBO -- The Sweetest Thing??? Agh.

3. What were the last three things you purchased? 1) Ketel and soda for me, 2) Bud for Larry, 3) Ketel martini for me at the previous bar. Never mix, never worry.

4. What four things do you need to do this weekend? Go to the airport. Fly to Bonaire. Meet some new people. Dive.

5. Who are the last five people you talked to? 1. Larry. 2. The waiter as Tazzo who always makes us laugh. 3. The bartender at G who always buys us a round. 4. T.J. at work, to say so long and commiserate on our upcoming vacations .... "see ya in Atlanta in 2 weeks." 5. M.B., who is about ready to have her 2nd baby (due tomorrow) -- I can't believe she's working until the bitter end. God Bless. I told her to go home and have a baby, cause I was going home to have a drink and pack for vacation.

March 6, 2003

Olympia Dukakis was stalking me

Olympia Dukakis was stalking me tonight. I swear. First on the subway platform in Times Square. I was heading downtown after work, waiting for the N train (still only $1.50 ... this month), and she walked right past me, very nonchalant, as if paying no notice. Not 30 minutes later, I’m having dinner with C.B. at Time Cafe and there she is again, at the corner table. She’s pretending to be engaged in a conversation with another woman who’s sharing the table, but I know better (she’s a dang good actress, but not that good) … she’s tailing me.

C.B. and I discretely finish our dinner, thank the too-cute tall lanky waiter (wishing him well on his upcoming 14th birthday) and head across the street. I wait on line at Public Theater’s box office and pick up my subscription tickets. Who is behind me? Yup, Clairee Belcher, in the flesh. Can’t a boy just go the theater in peace?

Tonight’s performance of Fame, er, no Rent … hmm, that wasn’t it … Falsettos, wait, no … what was it, oh yeah, Radiant Baby was oh-so-close to being good. For a musical about one the century’s most original artists, there was a whole lot of derivative going on. Kinda scary at the beginning … a Greek chorus of 3 pre-teens never bodes well … the show picks up but never really grabs. There are disco numbers, Madonna (or maybe Medusa) numbers, early rap numbers and lots of pop music that you swear you’ve heard before. Oh, yeah, and scads of Keith Haring drawings. Some really good songs, but some really cringe ones as well. “If It Can’t Be Love” is a lovely ballad sung while Keith paints the new b.f. Carlos in bed (literally) … a very romantic scene. However, the two of them in bed and the woman standing behind them (the “singer on the radio,” as she’s called in the credits) really reminded me of Erzule serenading TiMoune and Daniel with “Human Heart” in “Once on this Island.”

At one point Kwong says to Keith, “in 20 years we’ll be nostalgia.” In less time than that, high schools around the country will be performing Radiant Baby.

The other celebrity sighting of the night was Fran Drescher … who looked great, btw. As C.B. overheard coming out of the theater, “did you know the nanny from The Nanny was at the show?”

Hey, it's gray and cold

Hey, it's gray and cold again this morning. So yesterday's blue skies and 50 degree weather was just Mother Nature giving being a quick tease.

Saw String Fever last night at EST. Haven't been in a tiny black box since forever (now now, we're talking theater here), and it was great to see Cynthia Nixon again, up close and personal, giving a wonderfully simple, yet many layered performance. She's so much fun to watch on stage. Last time I saw her was in The Women and her Mary had that silly accent, which I thought got in the way of everything else. Anyway, Lily's turned 40 and wants a relationship, has an issue-riddled, chair-hugging ex (David Thornton) who doesn't call and a new physicist beau (Jim Fyfe) who gets her all tied up in string theory. Not only is she trying to work the knots out of her own life, but she's also dealing with a father Tom Mardirosian, (a quaanutm leap from Oz's Agamemnon) -- who just wants love ... and to take a normal dump after umpteen surgeries -- and her best friend Janey (Cecilia deWolf), a terrific earth mother who has found herself in Iowa, of all places. Poor Janey, never follow a man to the midwest.

Evan Handler (you know, the hirstute lawyer who Charlotte banged last season) was brilliantly funny as Gisli, Lily's Icelandic artist friend, who keeps sending missives about his own woes, artistic and personal, and like the 10-dimensions of a string theory world, interconnects with Lily's world in seen and unseen ways.

It was HBO night at EST. Great cast, excellent direction (Mary Robinson). Good stuff.

And now it's snowing. Pack up the dogsled, off to work.

March 5, 2003

Reconnected w/ two old friends

Reconnected w/ two old friends this week, people I used to be really tight with who I haven't seen in years. That's a good thing.

Why it's great to be

Why it's great to be 3 and 1/2 years old

1. Learning to make a PBJ is a huge deal.

2. It's really funny to sit at the dinner table very quietly and well-behaved and then touch your sister's food because you know it drives her crazy. Once she calms down, you can do it again.

3. When you're over a phone conversation, you can just hang up ... even if the other person's still talking.

March 4, 2003

Okay, I know what it

Okay, I know what it means to Miss New Orleans

In no particular order ... free drinks at the Hofbrau; Danny at the Pub; Rick Testa; Blanche DeBris long before she was this incarnation; Arnaud's shrimp bisque; Mr. B's; fried dill pickles; root beer in a frosty mug (what was the name of that place?); David Skeele; playing Verezzi in "Zastrazzi;" my first date with Kevin – he looked like Alan Carr; 421 Royal Street and the amazing balcony; Edwin and Amy; the Can Can; Zelda Rose; Daphne; Rick and Renee; Michelle; Kat (did she marry Paul S.?); Debbie and her spaceman's neck brace; Chris H.; "La Vie en Rose;" the Chair Dance; wishing I was Lestat; waffle fries at the Clover Grill; taking JH to Taco Bell for the first time and then eating it all on his sailboat; Tavi; Laurie and her PBR; KMM and KH rolling their brains out at Jazz Fest -- standing behind really cute boys and draping their white linen skirts over said boys’ heads; Bloody Marys at the MRB -- a garden salad w/ your cocktail; poppers on the dance floor of the Parade; Susan Spicer's restaurants before she got famous; Dixie long necks; Camelia Grill; the smell of burnt oil and grass near the streetcar; really good gumbo; Tommy Tune at Cafe du Monde at 2 in the morning; cafe au lait; beignets; Tipatina's; Miss Mae's; 3-4-1 Thursdays at ... oh dear; what was that bar on St. Charles ... Deja Vu??; my sister taking my return ticket home and nailing it to her wall saying, "this is art" -- I left 4 years later; the NOPD; Lucille's; the barefoot, pinball-playing boy I met at Lucille’s and KLC coming over that same day w/ flowers; Rohn; Becky Allen (sha-reik); that biker bar in the Quarter where we used to eat fried cheese at 3 in the morning; Petunia’s; the Marigny; wanting to blow up that damn calliope, but loving it all the same; Riverwalk when it was new; Cooter Brown’s; Pork Chop; putting sunglasses in your shirt pocket when you went out at 2am, because you knew you’d need them when you left the bars at 8 in the morning; thinking New Orleans Rep was all that – ah the follies of youth; John and Lorraine; my 25th birthday party – the only surprise party that’s really ever worked (thank you Kevin); 25 purple roses; Patty -- my Juliet (R&J) and my Julia (Zastrozzi); discussing white imagery in “Moby Dick” w/ Nicholas Cage in my apartment; the hookers in the slave quarters behind us; Hall and Oates; Winston; Jewell’s; making groceries; Maison Blanche; coffee houses before there were Starbucks; visiting grandma Rose “across the river;” and much, much more.

Standing on the balcony at the Royal Sonesta hotel at midnight, throwing our champagne glasses onto Bourbon Street as the street cleaners were heading down, with the cops on the bullhorns blaring, "This year's Mardi Gras is offically over. Please clear the streets and go home."

It may be the city that care forgot, but tonight I find myself a trifle nostalgic.

(I know I should put in a bunch more links, but please ....)

Apologies to Patricia Neal et

Apologies to Patricia Neal et al ...

Not trying to be mean, but (we all know what that means ... just like when anyone says "this isn't sour grapes, but ... " or "I don't want to be harsh, but ... ") ....

From today's Liz Smith, Kirk Douglas is the toastmaster at Liza and David's "it's been a year since the charade" soiree. So very many shades of wrong. And has anyone seen the trailer for It Runs in the Family ? I'm sure it's my own issues, but it makes me uneasy.

Random acts of kindness for

Random acts of kindness for $200

Me, I like a Snickers.

March 3, 2003

A veritable cornucopia of quality

A veritable cornucopia of quality programming tonight. Fear Factor, Married by America and I'm A (2 bit) Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here all on at the same time. Surely this is the nadir of reality programming and we'll start seeing a backlash soon. God fordbid we have to go back to the English major and take up reading again -- or PS2.

Four more days of work until we leave for a week of diving. I can't wait to get underwater and hover over a reef. It's way too cold up here ... hopefully it will start acting like Spring by the time we get back.

Page Six says today that Kelly Osbourne wants to be the next Tracy Turnblad. That's almost as scary as Married by America.

Happy Birthday to Phil and Happy Carnival to Blanche.

Wooo hoooo, it got up

Wooo hoooo, it got up to 20 today. Wind chill of 8. Yup, that's Farenheit.

At least it's a pretty blue sky. Mama, she be sick of winter.

March 2, 2003

Larry's watching The Sweetest Thing

Larry's watching The Sweetest Thing right now and I do believe could be one of the stupidest movies ever.

Went down to the Jersey shore this weekend for an exploratory tour. We want a place by the beach that's easily accessible. Ptown's great, but too far. The Pines are too, well, The Pines -- been there, done that. And the Hamptons are fun to visit, but it's a schlepp to get out there and it's more than we want to spend

We were getting ready to jump on the Asbury bandwagon, but it's really still kinda scary there. "Beruit by the sea" is not an understatement. And even if it does turn around in the next 5-10 years, there are certain parts that will always stay, how does one say, "pockety." So now the question is do we want to have a little house right by the beach (Bradley Beach, perhaps?) with little to no yard or go somewhere a little more "suburban" and have a place to get away from it all but be close to the beach and have room for guests (Spring Lake Heights?).

Decisions, decisions, decisions. I guess it's a good problem to have.

If anybody gets to Moonstruck for dinner, ask for Dawn. She's hysterical and will take grease out of your way.

New Alias and Six Feet Under tonight. TiVo's going to be on overtime.

March 1, 2003

Saw June and a very

Saw June and a very scary Cricket in Murder at Movay Manor last night, upstairs at Rose's Turn. Haven't been in that space since the last time I did Lucky Girl! Fun, campy theater with a 2-drink minimum. And cute boys everywhere.

Was going to catch up with everyone at the Monster, where things can be truly frighteining, but hunger lured us elsewhere and we ended up at Philip Marie where I had the most tender, dare I sare succulent, wild boar, wrapped in pancetta and served over a jalepeno-infused pear sauce. Amazing.

Off to the shore today's to look at properties. This would be a new chapter in the Bob and Larry show -- having a beach house down the shore. I see lots of big hair, Springstein and Bon Jonvi records. And I'll have to learn all about exits. Crazy.