It's Up To You...

I know I know I know. It’s been a while. What can I say? My computer broke and I lost momentum. This writing thing is not something I had ever done on a regular basis, and when I got out of the routine, it was hard to get back in.Don’t fret, however, dear readers. I got some pages up my sleeve. I’m currently on the big Vee (that’s slightly dirty, eh?) touring around Australia and New Zealand. In March, we embark on a 60-some odd day trek through most of South-East Asia, and I end up in Vancouver, where I get to go home. (Home? I have no home…) I figure I’ll have a fair amount to talk about.

During my break, I went to New York and Toronto – to see family and friends. So I’m sitting in LaGuardia, wondering why the hell there isn’t free Internet ($7.95 for the 45 minutes before my flight? Really?) and kind of pissed that my flight has been cancelled – I’ll be arriving in Toronto about 2 hours later, which shouldn’t be a big deal, but I have a concert to go to. I’m eating a hotdog wrapped in pretzel dough (yes I know, I shouldn’t be eating meat, but there honestly isn’t anything else. Really. Food at LaGuardia is a big bag of suck) and reading the special Rolling Stone with Obama on the cover. I have just sorta kinda maybe almost made the decision to move to New York when my next contract is up in May. It scares the shit out of me. But every time I come to New York, I think to myself: Why the hell aren’t I living here? I love the city – the electricity in the air, the hustle and bustle, the 24-hour access to everything from prescriptions to groceries to photocopies to tourist tchotskis . I love that on any given day, I can go to any number of museums and see famous paintings and sculptures that I saw in textbooks in school. I love that Patti LuPone, Liza Minelli, Stockard Channing (no relation to Carol), Kirsten Scott Thomas, John Lithgow and a naked Daniel Radcliffe (Leave me alone! He’s legal!) all live and work within blocks from each other. I love the way when it’s -15 in Montreal, it can be +10 and sunny. I love that bars close at 4, and you can still take the subway home. I love Hell’s Kitchen. I love Central Park. I love MoMA. I love New York (insert song here!)

It doesn’t hurt that several of my nearest and dearest friends have moved here over the years, and every time I come, I’m welcomed with open arms. I had lunches and dinner with about 10 different people, and I’m sure I managed to piss off a bunch of folks I didn’t get a chance to connect with. (Sorry Scott, if you’re reading this). And whenever I come to NYC, there’s always a big surprise. This time, my old old friend Geoff (who I have known since Grade 1) was in town with his wife. I hadn’t seen him in almost 10 years. It was like I saw him yesterday. It was the same with my friends Robin (known since Grade 3), Naomi (1990), Alex (1994) and my dear Big Apple host, Michael (since 1989). Usually when you run into old friends, the conversation is about 20% catch-up and 80% reminiscence. But I found with all these old chums I hooked up with, it wasn’t like that at all. Sure, there were “Remember when…” moments. But we were all able to have proper adult conversations.

This summer, Michael came to visit me in the Med, and we spent 2 weeks gallivanting around Europe. I was an amazing amount of fun! As a thank you, I got Michael a ticket to see Patti LuPone in Gypsy. He’s seen it already, I’ve seen it already, but I could sit through Gypsy with Sally Struthers and Jamie Farr, I like it that much. Naomi also has procured a ticket. This is really exciting, because not only have I not seen Naomi for over 10 years, Michael has not seen Naomi for almost 16 years! They played husband and wife in a production of Company I directed 17 years ago. (Side note: Company is a faaaabulous Sondheim show about a single man turning 35, and the 5 married couples who are his best friends. It’s a show about the fear of commitment and the fear of intimacy. When we did it, we were about 15 too young. Now, I’m 3 years older than the main character. Oi) . Naomi hadn’t changed at all. She looked fantastic, she was ebullient and effervescent and argumentative and loud and funny and awesome! We had a really good dinner consisting of Korean dumplings and rice, and good stimulating conversation. But Patti could not be keep waiting!

I cannot rave about this show enough. It is definitely directed as a star vehicle for Patti, and she does not disappoint. There isn’t a piece of scenery left unchewed. She belts, she rants, she dances, she seduces, she cries, she laughs, she screams, she has a breakdown. And yet, there is so much subtlety (yes, subtlety… ) to her portrayal. It is performance for the ages, a role she was born to play. There isn’t a false note. Despite all the histrionics she can (and has) (and does) indulge in, this is a performance of absolute truth. There are so many heartbreaking moments, made all the more powerful by the tremendous emotional and technical framework she has built. And if that weren’t enough, Boyd Gaines and Laura Benanti as Herbie and Louise match Patti note for note in beautifully nuanced performances that crackle with energy. The last 20 minutes of the show are absolutely devastating. Naomi, Michael and I were all sobbing at the end of Rose’s Turn, and found ourselves unable to clap. And the strippers at the end almost succeed in stealing the show away (which they often do). There are a few, hmmm…. not quite mistakes… let’s say, miscalculations, in the show. Dainty June delivers a one-note performance, and that note is flat. Her big scene is awful. Truly. And Arthur Laurents, the book-writer and director, has inserted a couple of unnecessary cheesy bits that get a laugh, but they’re cheap laughs (although my idol, Phyllis Diller, once said there’s no such thing as a cheap laugh). But why quibble? It was perhaps the most satisfying night of theatre I have ever experienced.

After the show, I went to have drinks with 3 ship friends – Drummer Dom and his beautiful girlfriend Marisha (to whom I lent my cabin while on the big Zed – please refer to my previous blog “How Shipbound Got His Cabin Back”), and Saxy Tom, who’s studying at Columbia (please refer to my previous blog “If They Ever Put A Bullet Through Your Brain”). Naomi came as well, for which I was really happy. Michael went home. He was tired. Anyway long story short, we got kicked out of one bar, closed the next at 4 in the morning, and I ended up staying at Tom’s (his couch was comfy) because he lives on 110th, and Michael lives on 174th, so Tom’s was just that much closer. He lives right across the street from the “Seinfeld” restaurant, which is pretty cool, even though I’m not that crazy about the show. I know if Tom’s reading this, he’s aghast, since Seinfeld is his favorite show EVER.

The following evening, I also saw my dear friend Zarya, who I have known since we were 6. She sings with a wonderful choir, and I went to their Christmas concert, and I went to dinner with her and her boyfriend, her awesome friend Carol, and another gentleman whose name I’ve forgotten. He was very nice though. We went to a Peruvian restaurant with amazing food and horrid service. I had a wonderful evening with old and new friends

In fact, I had a wonderful weekend. I am tremendously lucky that at this point in my life, I’m able to have enough disposable income to be able to travel and see people in my life that mean so much to me (Next up: In June, visiting my friend Kate and her family in Prince George! I just haven’t told her yet!). Also, being able to afford a coupla tickets to a legendary performance in one of my favorite musicals ain’t so bad either.

So there you go. A new post. A loooong one. Happy now?