I got an email this week from a distant cousin (we met once at a family reunion 8 or 9 years ago). She and her family are coming to New York in the spring and are seeing some shows. The titles she mentioned to me, for which they have already purchased tickets, were Hairspray, Movin' Out, and...Wicked.
Oh, Boy.
She asked me what I thought of these shows and I hesitated. While I had no trouble endorsing Hairspray (in fact, I'm listening to the cast album as I write this) and mentioning that I have yet to see Movin' Out, this is where my self-assurance ended.
If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you're probably aware that I think Wicked is a piss poor excuse for a musical that borders on the unprofessional in almost all departments. That said, I do realize that all the suburbanites trekking in from New Jersey, Long Island, Connecticut and elsewhere to see it multiple times love it and think it's the best musical since sliced bread.
And as much as I am greatful for those tourists coming in and supporting the theatre in New York, I would very much like to shake them. Or, even better, take them to something of actual quality like Avenue Q.
Anyway, I didn't impart the strength of my convictions to my cousin. I told her that I very much hoped that she and her family enjoyed Wicked, even though I did not. And I did advise them to see Avenue Q if their schedule permits.
Does anyone else have this problem?
People, family and friends, always ask my opinion about what they should see when they come to town. They do this because they know that I'm in the business and try to get to the theatre as much as I can.
But, folks, please know that I may hate something so much that I nickname the theatre in which it plays "The Pit of Despair" and avoid the very block in which that theatre may be found for the run of said production because of the negative vibes emanating from the building itself. But you may love it.
By the way, the incident described above is real. And has nothing to do with Wicked. This was another, quite different, musical.
And you shouldn't let my opinion of anything be anything other than part of the background noise of review and opinion that influences your decision to see one show or another.
My response to any opinion on a show, whether it be from a friend or from the New York Times, is "Huh...interesting...can't wait to see it and make my own decision." And I need everyone to do the same thing.
I am not the President of Good Taste and Excellence in the Theatre. I'm a guy with a big mouth, and a brain. And a blog. I form my own opinions and need everyone else to do likewise. No matter how much I may flog or promote a show, I'm only one man.
But, that said...Wicked? Are you people fucking serious? Are they spraying some hypnotic gas through the ventilation system? I don't get it. Ever see a cat or a baby fascinated by some random object just because it's shiny? Same fuckin' thing.
Remember my most recent sublet, Ginger Carlucci? The girl who stiffed me out of $175? Well, Steve Hickson suggested today that I post her contact information here and just let fate take its course.
Is that vindictive?
Well, call me Miss Vindictive then, because here it is...
Ginger Carlucci's cell phone number, which is now seems to be "unavailable" is 310-460-8138.
Her email address is:
wordsarefree@yahoo.com
By the way, my phone bill came today and I saw some of the numbers that she called on my phone while she was here. This is not a big deal, even though she told me she'd be using my phone for credit card calls only. However, I called one of the numbers and spoke to someone who knows her. It turns out that her name really is Ginger Carlucci. So that's something. I left my contact information with her for Ginger, who, of course, already has it. I'll call this chick back in a week or so and explain the situation to her and see if I can get Ginger's story from her.
So, let's see what happens. ;)
So I wasn't blogging over the weekend. Not because I was terribly busy or didn't have anything to say, but rather because I just didn't feel like writing. How do you like them apples? :)
But, this week, I've honestly been busy and haven't had time to sit down and write. Believe it or not, I do try to spend some time thinking about what I'm writing here for your enjoyment. Or derision. Or whatever.
I survived the snowstorm. Ugh. Nothing to say about it. I pretty much stayed in and watched episodes of various TV series that had built up in the queue of my DVR. I'm just the King of New York these days.
One thing I did do was go volunteer usher at the Saturday matinee performance of the Roundabout's current production of Twelve Angry Men at the American Airlines Theatre. You know this play. It's a well-preserved relic from the 1950's about a jury deliberating on a murder trial in New York. Initially, the jury polls at 11-1 in favor of a guilty verdict, but one man's wish to go over the evidence and give the defendent the benefit of at least talking about the case eventually leads to all sorts of reversals as each witness and piece of evidence is debated and, in some cases, torn down.
You know this play, even if you don't realize you do. Every sitcom and drama that has ever aired on television has adapted this idea for its characters. This play has become the whoriest or whory old cliches. However, you really have to give it a pass because this is where the cliches originated.
The actors here were really first rate and that goes a long way toward making this production memorable. Rather than casting stars, the Roundabout filled its roster with some of New York's best character actors and let them have at it. Among the Jurors here are Philip Bosco, James Rebhorn, Boyd Gaines, Tom Aldredge, Larry Bryggman, John Pankow, and Michael Mastro.
I really liked this play. It was jarring to see a jury comprised of 12 white men and that's a stark reminder that the play is set in the mid-50's. It was also pretty cool that, while these men often disagree, there are no villians here and everyone legitimately wants to reach the truth of the matter before them.
It was also sort of funny to see these men complaining of the stifling heat and humidity of a pre-air conditioning New York summer while we were, in reality, in the midst of our first blizzard of the season. It's the magic of theatre, folks. Can't tell you how much I was wishing that I could be on that stage and experiencing some heat. :)
Quibbles? Sure. One Juror's breakdown and the subsequent reversal of his vote in the very final minutes of the play comes almost out of nowhere. It's very deus ex machina for those of you who know your Greek theatre. It was as if Reginald Rose, the playwright, realized that he had to wrap it up very quickly and just couldn't think of a plausible way to do it.
Also, the characters keep referring to the "el," especially regarding a particular piece of evidence that is being considered. Here in New York, we don't refer to our trains as the "el," as is done in Chicago and Philadelphia and probably other places. We call the trains "trains" or "subways" (even if the subway is on an elevated track) or refer to them by letter or number, as in "I'm taking either the 7 or the E." The practical reason that we don't refer to our trains as the "el" is that this would produce confusion with the actual L train, which runs between Chelsea and various points in Brooklyn.
But definitely go see this play if you have a chance. It keeps getting extended and will end up being the longest running production at the American Airlines Theatre. Right now, it's running through April.
Just wanted to make that clear for anyone who was unsure of the party's position on this issue.
We are pro-marriage equality. We are anti-GINGER CARLUCCI.
Clear?
I had my first rehearsal tonight with the Village Light Opera for their upcoming production of the Ahrens and Flaherty musical My Favorite Year. I'm not that excited yet. It's just ensemble work. And there's no money in it. And, in fact, I have to pay them for the score and a "membership fee" that I don't quite understand yet.
And I am required to put in 20 hours of crew work on this production outside rehearsal. Here's a stone...now get some blood from it. Now I don't mean to denigrate those aspects of the production. I've been there. I've done that. And I very much respect people whose talents lie in those areas.
But I just don't have time to do it now.
But I suppose I will.
Damn, I really need a better job than this. And I have a line on one for later in the season. I'll keep you posted.
So I'm having a bad day.
It looks like my recent sublet is stiffing me out of the $175 that she owes me. This constitutes half of the agreed upon sublet fee for the period that she was here while I was in Tucson. She did not leave the money in the apartment when she left as requested, but she did leave a note asking me to call her to set up a time for her to drop off the remaining money. I called...several times...no response. Now, her cell phone number is "unavailable." And she has not responded to email either.
So, I'm not counting on getting this money.
By the way, her name (assuming she even gave me the correct one) is GINGER CARLUCCI. Did you get that? GINGER CARLUCCI. Take note. Should you come across a GINGER CARLUCCI in this town, smack her down and steal her purse for me. Here's what little I know about GINGER CARLUCCI: She is from LA and spent time recently living in Australia and has an Australian boyfriend. If someone could please kick GINGER CARLUCCI's ass for me, I'd be much obliged.
Thank You.
It's not that the $175 is going to bankrupt me, but my finances are pretty precarious as it is and I'm now left having to scramble to cover some expenses. Not what I was looking to do at this point. I hate GINGER CARLUCCI. Bitch.
I'm also still fighting a cold. Or, more specifically, a cough. I can't seem to kick this cough and I seem to have pulled a muscle in my chest with it. So now, whenever I have to cough (or blow my nose), I end up doubled over in pain with one hand covering my mouth and the other holding my chest together. I feel like a TB victim in a movie. But, since I seem to be doing my very best Garbo impression, maybe I'll find my very own Robert Taylor. And NOT die, by the way. Just in case you were thinking I didn't know how that story came out.
So...bottom line today: Fuck that whore GINGER CARLUCCI. And I may be dying from consumption. Stay tuned.
Back from Tucson and had a wonderful time.
Getting there was no picnic though. I got bumped off the first flight I wanted to get on. Plane #2 was direct service from LaGuardia to Phoenix though, which was good, but with a stopover in Philadelphia, rather than Charlotte. Here a tip for you...if you have a choice, never fly through Philadelphia.
The plane was delayed almost 3 hours in the City of Brotherly Love, assuring me that I'd miss my connection in Phoenix. Bummer. We arrived in Phoenix just past midnight and I discovered that Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport is the worst airport ever. There's little signage to explain anything or to direct the traveler anywhere and no way to get from terminal to terminal without going outside and having to clear security again.
So I spent the night in another airport. This was the third airport in which I've had the...um...pleasure of spending the night. Just try and guess the other two.
Next morning, I catch my connection to Tucson without issue and arrive there approximately 12 hours later than planned. Whee!
I went over to meet Kevin and he immediately put me to work helping out on his production of Ruthless! I was running errands, painting, helping move things, basically doing anything that needed to be done. Several of the crew and cast pointed out that I was not having a very nice vacation. But I love this stuff and was having a blast.
And I got to be in the show. I had one line, three words at the very end of the show. I won't spoil the moment for you if you don't know the show, but I was terrific and got huge laughs and applause for my bit. Yea!
The show is a bitchy musical comedy that is part The Bad Seed, and part All About Eve, with a little bit of Gypsy thrown in for good measure.
Kevin had been through hell and back with this production and I'm pleased to report that all his work has been successful. The production is wonderful, got great reviews, and I urge anyone in the area to buy tickets for all your friends and go. Check out the review in the Arizona Daily Star here.
When we finally had some free time on Monday, Kevin and I headed down to the Mexican border town of Nogales for some great food, possibly the best (and cheapest) margaritas I've ever had, and shopping. I ended up buying a beautiful hand made blanket that I just love. Mmmm...
I was thisclose to staying in Tucson and continuing to help out on the show. It's warmer there and I was having fun. Here in New York, it's cold and awful and I'm not having fun at the moment. :)
There's more to report, but I'll get to that later.
So tomorrow I head off to Tucson, AZ to again visit my friend Kevin, the artistic director and executive producer of Arizona OnStage, and see his production of the musical Ruthless! (and escape winter for a few days). I'll be flying standby on US Airways and America West Express, thanks to the inexpensive ticket that I was able to get through my brother, an airline pilot. I'll be flying from LaGuardia Airport to Charlotte to Phoenix to Tucson. Roundabout, yes, but the price was right.
Because I'm flying standby, there is every chance that I will be bumped off the plane at any step along the way. That's just the way of the game. And you might think this would make me nervous. And you would be...wrong. I actually find the whole thing rather exciting. It's potentially dangerous, but the rewards are also potentially great. You see, For a nominal fee, depending on space available, I may be able to upgrade to First Class. First Class, People!!!
Not sure what kind of blogging capacity I'll have on the trip, but I'll keep you updated if I can.
Oh, hey...it appears that I will be making a cameo in Ruthless! in a small part at the very end of the show. I don't know much about it yet, but it sounds like great fun. Thanks, Kevin!!!
In other news...
Still dealing with the cold that I caught Saturday night. I seem to be more feverish in the mornings and feel better and the day progresses. It such a strange feeling to be boiling hot and freezing cold at the same time. I'm hoping that it passes. It really sucks to have a cold and be flying.
At the Desk Jockey Day Job, I ran into an interesting problem today. I was asked to fill out an emergency contact form so that my employers would have the name of someone to contact in the event that something bad were to happen to me at work. And...I had no idea whom to put as my Emergency Contact. None. I have no husband or significant other, no roommate, and my family all live in other states. And I can't imagine that any of my friends would care to take on such a responsibility. So, whom do I put down? It's a quandry, let me tell you. In the end, I ended up writing down my mother after all. Sure, she's in Florida now, and won't be able to do a damn thing if I'm injured at work, but, oh, well, right?
Well, I should get back to my packing and trying to get my shit together to get out the door in the morning. You see, I'm working in the morning, prior to heading to the airport in the afternoon. Busy Busy Busy!
See you later!
So due to a combination of lack of sleep over the past couple of nights due to my cold and the effects of the medicine I took this morning, I was pretty groggy and light-headed at work today.
I hate that. If it were not for the upcoming commencement of The Tarheel Desert Adventure on Wednesday, I would have called in sick today and taken the day to rest up and recover.
Last night, I had very strange dreams, which happens sometimes when I'm sick. They weren't violent, exactly, but the images were so jumpy and the characters in the dream were asking so much of me that I was unable to actually rest through them. There were a lot of suitcases of different sizes and types and people kept coming to me to try to solve problems about storing them the various rooms of the dream. It was very stressful and I was tossing and turning a lot.
The good part of it was that at least I was warm enough last night.
On the way home from work, I broke down and stopped in at McDonald's and got myself some comfort food for dinner. Big Mac, fries, Coca-Cola. Mmmmm...yummy. And I feel much better now.
Oh, and I finally met the current sublet tonight. She seems really great and I like her. It's quite a relief, considering that I had been so afraid that she was going to flake out on me. Turns out, she has just moved back to the US from Australia and there were issues with transferring her funds. But, no matter...I have her money and she has my spare set of keys.
Whoo-Hoo!
I've had what I think is a fever all day. I currently have 3 layers of clothes on and have just finished my second cup of chamomile tea. And I'm shivering.
It came on me suddenly last night and I tossed and turned trying to stay warm all night.
This is how fevers affect me. I get really really cold, rather than hot.
Does anyone know how to insulate a window that has an air conditioner in it. I think part of the issue is that arctic air is blowing into the room through the air conditioner unit.
I'm starting to feel better. It's times like this, I really miss having someone around to take care of me.
I've had what I think is a fever all day. I currently have 3 layers of clothes on and have just finished my second cup of chamomile tea. And I'm shivering.
It came on me suddenly last night and I tossed and turned trying to stay warm all night.
This is how fevers affect me. I get really really cold, rather than hot.
Does anyone know how to insulate a window that has an air conditioner in it. I think part of the issue is that arctic air is blowing into the room through the air conditioner unit.
I'm starting to feel better. It's times like this, I really miss having someone around to take care of me.
Tonight, I had dinner with a reader named Randy who had come to town to see Audra McDonald in concert right here in my neighbourhood. We ate at Julian's, a charming Italian/Mediterranean restaurant here in the 'hood.
It was really nice meeting him. As I've said here before, you meet the greatest people blogging. And I can't wait to hear how the concert was. I've never seen Audra McDonald in concert, only in plays and musicals. But she's a brilliant performer and I'm sure she gives a good concert.
It appears that my sublet for next week has actually NOT fallen through. This is a good thing.
Spent part of tonight balancing my checkbook. The good news is that everything is balancing perfectly. The bad news is that I apparently used my check card to purchase some Christmas gifts instead of the credit card I intended to use. This means that I now have quite a bit less money in the account that I thought. Oops.
Yep, balancing the checkbook and blogging on a Saturday night. This is my life in the big city. Why are you reading this, again?
Oh, I have added some more blogs over there on the right that you might want to check out. It's an on-going process. As always, if I've met you or if you read this, and you have a blog that you'd like me to link, please just shoot me email. I promise I'll get my ass in gear on that right away.
Tonight, I had dinner with a reader named Randy who had come to town to see Audra McDonald in concert right here in my neighbourhood. We ate at Julian's, a charming Italian/Mediterranean restaurant here in the 'hood.
It was really nice meeting him. As I've said here before, you meet the greatest people blogging. And I can't wait to hear how the concert was. I've never seen Audra McDonald in concert, only in plays and musicals. But she's a brilliant performer and I'm sure she gives a good concert.
It appears that my sublet for next week has actually NOT fallen through. This is a good thing.
Spent part of tonight balancing my checkbook. The good news is that everything is balancing perfectly. The bad news is that I apparently used my check card to purchase some Christmas gifts instead of the credit card I intended to use. This means that I now have quite a bit less money in the account that I thought. Oops.
Yep, balancing the checkbook and blogging on a Saturday night. This is my life in the big city. Why are you reading this, again?
Oh, I have added some more blogs over there on the right that you might want to check out. It's an on-going process. As always, if I've met you or if you read this, and you have a blog that you'd like me to link, please just shoot me email. I promise I'll get my ass in gear on that right away.
I have my moments of craziness and I have my moments of depression, but I'm a pretty normal, sane guy.
I don't play games with people. I pretty much mean what I say. No double meanings, no hidden motives. I don't really pursue agendas with people.
And I have had two separate people (who don't know each other, by the way) in two different conversations in two different situations tell me that this approach may be part of my problem of finding someone to share my life. Or go on a second date even.
Apparently, New Yorkers play games.
The person I spoke with tonight told me that I don't seem like a New York gay man to her because I'm too normal. I lead my life too much on an even keel. I don't let stuff get to me. She thinks it might be my destiny to eventually leave the city and move elsewhere because I will not find love here with some desperately neurotic New Yorker. Because that person just can't deal with the straight-shooter that I, apparently, am.
I don't do any of this on purpose. I just never learned to play those kinds of games. I never learned to play basketball either, in case you were wondering.
Strangely, for an actor, I have never thrived on drama. That is, personal drama. It's just too hard to live like that and takes up way too much energy that could be better spent elsewhere. But that style works for some people. I get that.
The other person who brought this to my attention said that I wear my heart on my sleeve and, for better or worse, put my whole self out there for people to see. (And chew up and spit out, of course.) And that that is off-putting for people.
Sometimes, I unwittingly get caught up in drama and the stress of it is way too much. I would just rather people say what's on their minds, get it out in the open, and go from there. Then everyone is on the same page.
And, for the record, my ESP sucks.
I don't know what you're thinking or what you mean by that unless I ask. And, oftentimes, I do. And, if you avoid the question, I will continue to ask until you answer or give me a reason for not answering. (Wouldn't President Bush just HATE me?) My reasoning on such things runs along the lines of if you didn't want to have to explain, you shouldn't have brought it up in the first place.
I was in a gay bar one time in a city I didn't live in and got into a conversation with a group of locals. One of them, a really cute guy, says to me, apropos of nothing and in front of the entire group, "I think you're really cute and I'd really like to have sex with you tonight."
I admire that. Cards on the table, as they say. Interestingly enough, Cards On The Table is also the title of one of my favorite Agatha Christie novels. I first read it in the seventh grade.
I don't know where I'm going with this. I don't know if this is a problem or not. I do my best to keep you updated.
Had a lovely evening last night with Jeff, Matt, and David, who was in town visiting from his home in Missouri. I'd never met David before and he proved to be as charming and personable as his writing might suggest.
After dinner in Union Square, we walked over to the West Village and sat in Marie's Crisis, a piano bar, and listened to people singing showtunes. After awhile, Mike came over and joined us and a good time was had by all.
When Matt and Jeff left us and head back downtown, the rest of us headed over to The Duplex, which is practically across the street. With apologies to Mike, who's as much a Duplex fixture as their barstools, I'm becoming less and less a fan of the place. The singers always use microphones in a space that's just a bit larger than my living room. Last night, the sound system was turned up so high that we could barely hear ourselves talk even though we were at the bar and as far away as we could be.
And the singers? Well...let's just say it was pretty much glorified karioke. This one guy was so bad that I finally just had to leave Mike and David and head home for the evening. Sigh...
Anyway...
David Cerda posted some pictures from the New Years Eve party and one of them is a pretty decent shot of me. My eyebrows both seem to be horizontal here. I have no idea who the two guys in the picture with me are, but I do remember chatting with them for awhile. Anyone have any ideas? Oh, well...
It looks like my sublet for next week has flaked out. Argh. Anyone looking for an apartment in midtown Manhattan for seven days for an extremely reasonable rate? If so, you know whom to contact.
The firm where I work the desk jockey day job had an office party tonight.
I wasn't sure how to approach this since I've never really worked in a place that's sponsored an outing of this sort. Here's what happened:
At 3.00pm, we all left our desks at our office on the east side and piled into a bus that took us to Times Square to the Leisure Time Bowling Alley, located within Port Authority Bus Terminal. We divided up into teams and were plied with beer and soda on the firm while we bowled a couple of games.
I sucked balls. To put it mildly. Now, I gotta tell you...I'm descended from a long line of bowlers. My mother and all of her siblings and their father, my grandfather, were all bowlers. Mom bowled in various leagues for years, all throughout my childhood.
And I have disappointed my ancestors.
Though I did get one strike and a spare or two, I just couldn't seem to do much with my balls. No matter what I did, my balls swung to the left and to the right.
Oh, and I also introduced my co-workers to my favourite word. Say it with me, folks..."FUCK!" I really try not to use this word in the office, at least not with volume and projection. But this was a party...
At one point, one of the bigwigs at the firm came over to me to tell me that I broke her concentration in her attempt to get her ball down the alley. She was just getting ready to get her ball down the alley when she heard me shout "Fuck!" from an adjoining alley. And she started to laugh and it messed her up.
Luckily I work with understanding people.
Fuck Fuck Fuck. That was just for fun. :)
After bowling, we all piled back into the bus and headed back over to the east side to the Peking Duck House, a Chinese place near our office. Mmmm...
And we all proceeded to eat our weight in luscious Chinese food. Or maybe that was just me. There were these duck wraps that were heaven. And sesame chicken. And tons of other stuff.
And there was cake.
I suppose that one of the points of the evening was to allow us to socialize with our co-workers and promote a little intraoffice bonding. This actually seemed to work, as I got a chance to talk with a couple of people I see all the time and who actually sit pretty near me, but with whom I never really have a chance to talk.
There was this one (pretty cute) guy that I thought for sure was gay, but he mentioned a girlfriend at one point. Huh...Who knew? Of course, he mentioned the girlfriend in the context of having broken up with her, so...
Hmmm...
Amongst the topics of discussions:
1) how no one knows anyone else in our office because no one has name plates on their offices or cubicles, and
2) how embarrassing it is to work in an office and not know anyone's name and how embarrassing it is to ask someone you've seen everyday for a year their name, and
3) a right-wing Christian author who shall remain nameless here, partially responsible for a well-known series of books that espouse his particularly reprehensible fundamentalist beliefs. Yes, there was a reason we were discussing this person. No, I'm not going to tell you.
Don't I just have the world's most exciting life?
I forgot to mention that at the New Years party I attended in Chicago, I had the pleasure of catching up with Kris, who I first met briefly when I was in Chicago a year ago. He was looking very dapper and hot. And he's very charming, so it was nice to meet up with him again.
Rumor has it that he's planning a trip to New York in the spring. Whoo-Hoo!
Remember that bookcase that my parents brought me and that I had to rebuild awhile back? Because of its precariousness, I had nicknamed it The Leaning Tower of Pisa and was worried that it would come crashing down while I was gone and my sublets were in the place.
Well...that's exactly what happened. And scared the hell out of them, apparently. But, at least they piled the debris nicely in the living room.
So now I have to figure out what I'm going to do with all these books now that this shelf is dead dead dead. Sigh.
So I just got back into town and I'm already planning my next trip.
I am returning to Tucson for the long MLK weekend in a couple of weeks to escape the cold and see my friend Kevin's production of the musical Ruthless! that he is directing for Arizona Onstage, his award-winning theatre there.
This trip has been dubbed The Tarheel Desert Adventure because I will be traveling standby, mostly on US Airways, at a pretty low fair thanks to my brother the airline pilot.
The Tarheel part of it is because I'll be flying through Charlotte, NC. The desert part is fairly obvious. The Adventure part? Well, aside from the obvious risks of traveling with US Airways, there is a chance that I could be bumped off the plane at any point in the trip, meaning that I could end up spending my long weekend at airports in New York, Charlotte, or Phoenix and not getting to Tucson at all.
Fun.
I'm totally looking forward to this. Can't wait to get back to Tucson and see Kevin and his show.
Wish me luck.
I'm back.
I had such a good time in Chicago that I hated to leave, but home was calling.
My flights back were actually really terrific due to my reseating myself in exit rows at Northwest Airlines' self-check-in computers. I had plenty of legroom and windows all the way home. I'm a window person; I like to look out at the tarmac when the plane is on the ground and the clouds when it's in the air.
Have you ever been to Northwest's Terminal A in Detroit? Wow! What a beautiful hunk of airport! It reminded me a little of the airport in Denver. There was an elevated tram indoors! Loved it! What a beautiful place to spend 2 hours between flights.
The rest of my time in Chicago was great fun. I did finally get into Rudolph for the closing performance on New Years Eve and I was so happy to see it. It brought back so many memories from last year. I felt like I could have stepped out of the audience and joined the cast.
And the show was terrific. David Cerda made a lot of changes to the script for this year's production. My favorite was Santa's most popular item, the Martha Stewart Prison Bitch talking doll, replacing last year's Iraqi Jackie action figure. It was a scream!
By the way, you can purchase the cast album here. I recommend it. You see, it features LAST YEAR'S cast, including yours truely.
The party afterward was a swinging good time with food, drink, music, and dancing dancing dancing. And I got to ring in the new year with friends, which was the best thing of all.
I spent a quiet New Years Day before walking over to Mike Miller's place to join Mike, Ed Jones, and Steve Hickson to watch Beyond the Poseidon Adventure, the crappy sequel to the hit disaster flick that I've been wanting to see for ages. Bad Movie! Bad Bad Movie!
And how weird was it that this bad movie employed so many Oscar winners in its cast. Amongst the roster were Michael Caine, Sally Field, Karl Malden, and Shirley Jones. Field actually gave a decent, likable performance here and escaped with more of her dignity intact than her costars.
But all of the actors were defeated by a lousy script, a worse production design, and indifferent direction from famed disaster flick producer Irwin Allen. Much of it doesn't even make sense. Well, I guess you can't win them all.
Afterward, we watched Sara's Summer of the Swans, one of those awful ABC Afterschool Specials from the mid-70's. It was hysterical in it's awfulness with bad acting all around from a cast that included The Brady Bunch's Christopher Knight and Eve Plumb in small roles. Also fun.
Then we watched another mid-70's TV movie called Alexander: The Other Side of Dawn, a tawdry tale of an artist who goes to LA and becomes embroiled in prostitution and the urban gay scene. Though the lead character is only gay-for-pay, this film is an interesting window into another time and a reminder of how far gay people have come in 30 years.
Sigh. I miss these folks already.