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September 27, 2007:

SHORT SHRIFT

Bruce Kimmel Photograph bk's notes

Well, dear readers, The Fourth Brain is done – a good show with a small, but appreciative audience. Yes, a few technical issues (I’m told that the theater we’re in has many less issues than the other venues – which is horrifying to even contemplate). We got our errant and truant light fixed, so that was good. It was the first time since opening night when all the mics save for one seemed to work well. The Brain Tap continues to cause us problems in New York – our victims have just been so uninteresting, mostly because they’re too “knowing” and trying to perform. We had a really terrific one last Friday and the bit played like gangbusters, just as it always did in LA. That’s why the wild divergence of opinion about the sequence – if the show was reviewed for any performance but Friday the sequence isn’t well received – and for the reviewer who was there on Friday it was spectacularly successful. Another interesting problem is doing a show where the company never really has a chance to get more than two consecutive performances and therefore never gets a run at things – this company is wonderful and one can only imagine what would be if we were actually doing an eight show week. I must say I just sit there smiling the whole time, not because of the show, but because it’s just so much fun to watch this cast strut their stuff. In attendance for the show was producer Richard Norton, elmore, former Pasadena Playhouse exec Jayson Raitt, the director of NYMF’s Gemini (with my darling Linda Hart), but most importantly, dear readers, Jeanne, Miss Karen, Jason, and MusicGuy. After the show, we all convened at the Theatre Row Diner just up the street from our theater, where we were joined by dear reader singdaw, who is, as you are already aware, a complete delight. We all stuffed ourselves silly (cast members Cason and BJ were there, as was dear reader Jose and the always lovely FJL), and there was much merriment and mirth and laughter and legs. After dinner, MusicGuy insisted we all toddle over to the Brooklyn Diner to have dessert. Who were we to say nay? So, we dutifully toddled and ate very large desserts – I split the coconut cake and was actually a very good boy, only having a few bites. After that, MusicGuy and singdaw went to their respective trains, and Cason, BJ, Jose, and Jason all toddled off to have some more fun, and I walked Jeanne and Miss Karen to their abode.

I came home to a whole mess o’ e-mails to deal with, including one from the person I’m subletting from, asking if a friend of his could see the apartment for a possible sublet in October. That person had also e-mailed me, and I called him and he said he’d come right over to look. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be Greg Morrison, composer of The Drowsy Chaperone – we had a lovely chat, he remembered me from our LA recording session, and he, of course, knows our musical director Larry Goldberg and has heard about our show. As mentioned in the posts yesterday, we got a rave review from someone at broadwayworld.com, so it was nice to have a different perspective, especially from someone who’d seen the show when it was firing on all cylinders. That was a really nice thing to wake up to, as I’d had no idea there would be a second opinion.

It was hot and humid, and despite being told strongly that temperatures would never be in the 90s, it was, according to Ye Olde Temperature sign at 44th and Tenth, 96 degrees. Thankfully, I was indoors for most of the day and evening.

Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because it is late and I need to get these here notes posted before I fall asleep whilst writing them. Then again, maybe I’ll get my second wind.

My Second Wind – that’s the title of my next novel. Actually, I don’t recall having my first wind. And why is it we don’t ever hear THAT expression – you know, someone saying, “I’m getting my first wind” or even “I’m getting my third wind.” It’s always, “I’m getting my second wind” and frankly I think all the other winds are getting short shrift, whatever the HELL that is. Have you ever gotten short shrift? What is a shrift anyway? And can you get long shrift? What the HELL am I going on about?

Today is yet another day off. I think there may be a breakfast with dear reader Jeanne, and I think there might be something afoot for Cason, Jose, and I, but I’ll wait to hear from all of the above. I’m sure I’ll be supping with someone, somewhere. Maybe I’ll order some shrift while I’m getting my fifth wind.

I may also try to see my friend from New Jersey at some point in the next day or so. We’ve been chatting regularly and hopefully a time will work out to make that happen.

Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, get up, I must laugh and be happy, I must have breakfast, do things, and then sup somewhere with someone. Today’s topic of discussion: One of my favorite type of restaurant growing up was the cafeteria. It’s pretty much gone the way of the dodo bird and has been given extremely short shrift and has never gotten its second, third, or even fourth wind. My favorite, of course, was Ontra Cafeteria, of which there were many in LA in the 60s (mentioned prominently in the Kritzer books). I loved choosing which foods to eat from the plethora of goodies on view. So, did you eat at cafeterias in your past, and, if so, which were your favorites, what did you love to order and were your eyes bigger than your mouth? Even school cafeterias count. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, and whatever you do don’t give the posts short shrift.

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