Well, dear readers, what a splendidly splendid day and evening I had yesterday. The signing/reading/singing at The Drama Bookshop was a lot of fun for me. There was a really nice crowd (although way too many no-shows for my taste – what is with people these days?), and I read the same selections that I did at the other New York signing in December. But, the real treat was doing the songs live. Donna Lynne Champlin really knocked I Hate You out of the park – and she only learned it a day ago. My assistant’s squeeze Kristopher did Who Do I Have to Blank to Get Out of this Show with Theresa Finamore. He did a fine job, especially considering he only got the music yesterday morning. Theresa did a lovely job with Leaving Home, and I croaked my way through I’m Here (Guy Haines gave me some pointers and just told me to imitate his performance on the CD, which is what I did), and then we all sang Bus and Truck. In attendance were dear readers PennyO and her friend, Jose, Ben, Michael Shayne (who videotaped), Jenny and her friend Liz, William F. Orr and his ever lovin’ Joe, Jonathan, a fellow who posts on one of those Internet theater chat boards, a couple of people I didn’t know, Danise, Iris and friend, Tammy Minoff’s mum Susan, my pals Richard Valley and Tom Amorosi, my pal Doug Cohen (very talented songwriter), a gentleman who’d been at the other signing in December and who’d loved the book and wanted to get another signed copy for a friend, and Rodzinski. Panni arrived after the reading, and was at the little party. I think there were some others, but my brain has ceased to function properly. Afterwards, many of us mosied on over to Joe Allen, where it took three tables to fit us all in. There was good food, good converation, and we laughed and laughed and just when we thought we could laugh no more, we laughed again. Isn’t that exciting? Isn’t that just too too?
Might I just say that I adore walking in New York, New York. And man, were the streets ever crowded last night. Jam-packed, everywhere you went. As I walked back to the hotel I thought, this is indeed the city that never sleeps. Yes, Virginia, this is the city that never sleeps, and I, BK, am one of its fervent denizens until Sunday morning.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below whilst we think of cities that do sleep.
Have I mentioned that this is the city that never sleeps? Cars are honking all the livelong day and night, with nary a moment’s pause. Speaking of a moment’s pause, today I shall have a merry time. I plan to go over to the theater where Virginia Woolf is playing to see if I can score a good single. I’m told that will not be a problem. Then I’ll come back here, get all prettified, and then go see the show (I’ll see something for sure). Then I’ll kill some time before I toddle over to the Clurman to see our very own PennyO in Jewish Thighs on Broadway. I must say, dear reader PennyO looked really really good when she dropped by the reading. She looked quite relaxed for someone who was about to have her opening night. I can’t wait to see her show and attend the partay afterward. And it will be grand fun to see Angus again, whom I haven’t seen since he left Joe Allen.
Isn’t this city ever going to sleep? The hills are alive with the sound of music, and New York is alive with the sounds of people not sleeping.
When I get back from PennyO’s show and partay, I shall then have to pack everything, and get as much sleep as I can before being whisked to the airport at four-thirty in the morning.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must try to see a show, I must see PennyO, and I must attend our “do” afterwards. For now, I must attempt to get some sleep while the city partays on. Today’s topic of discussion: We started to have an interesting batch of posts about magazines yesterday – so, what were/are your all-time favorite magazines? Mine were MAD, Cracked, Humbug, Famous Monsters of Filmland, and a few others. Later, I began to enjoy Time, the New Yorker, and Gramophone Magazine. I used to love looking at ads in magazines – not the big ads for big products, but the weird little ads in Popular Mechanics and magazines like that. You know, for radio kits, and doo-dads and all that jazz. I abhor most magazines now, except for my pal Richard’s Scarlet Street. I have done bound volumes for many complete runs of magazines – I love having them that way. Your turn. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we. After all, this is the website that never sleeps.