Well, dear readers, it’s very late and I’m very tired and therefore I must write these here notes in a hurry before I fall asleep whilst ty – oops (spoo, spelled backwards), I just fell asleep whilst ty. I hate when that happens, don’t you? In any case, there’s just one more performance left of The Brain From Planet X – NYMF version, so if you’re planning to come, tomorrow night at eight is your last chance. We’re already more than two-thirds full, so don’t dawdle, Amaryllis. Speaking of Amaryllis, yesterday began horridly and ended wonderfully. It was so hot and stultifying in the apartment that despite having gone to bed at two o’clock, I just couldn’t sleep and got up at six. I did manage to get some shut-eye for about ninety minutes from seven to eight-thirty. I then dealt with some mind-numbing e-mails, and then took another box to ship home. It was around that time that the horrid part of the day began – just a disaster of the highest order and one I can’t really deal with until I’m back in LA, even though I wish I could deal with it here. In fact, I don’t really know how I’m going to deal with it yet. After that, in a foul mood, I went to our general manager’s office to collect the box with the closing night gifts – the box weighing about fifteen pounds, which I lugged all the way back to the apartment – I should have taken a cab, but given my state of mind, the walk was better, even though I killed my back. Once back at the apartment, I did a tiny bit of damage control bandaging, really temporary, but necessary. I then showered and shaved and then toddled off to the Acorn Theater.
I arrived at our usual one-hour set-up time, only to be told that the show before us ran two-and-a-half hours and was just coming down, which means they had to break down their stuff. I was furious and I informed everyone that I didn’t care if we had to hold for a half-hour because of that show’s running time – if NYMF doesn’t know how to book, that is not the problem of my show, and I was going to hold them to THEIR rules regarding our set-up time. Of course, if we go up late then the eight o’clock show has to go up late, and apparently that’s a big problem at the Acorn. Again, not my problem. In fact, I think we’re just about the only show in the Acorn that sets up and breaks down always on time, never going over. And we have such a good group of people, that we did everything in short order and only had to hold about ten minutes. We’re going to have the same problem on Sunday, and I’ve informed the head of NYMF that he needs to deal with it, because while I’m happy to help if we’re moving along and everything’s ready, I don’t HAVE to and I’m not going to rush and make mistakes and not have everything where it needs to be and not do a dimmer and sound check.
The show went very well – we had a really nice crowd and though they took a while to warm up, they ended up being our second best audience, especially for the second act, which played like gangbusters. The Brain Tap was unbelievably funny because we had the perfect mark, edisaurus’s ever-lovin’ Greg, who was brilliant. I knew several people in attendance, so it was nice to say hi to them. There was one person sitting two rows in front of me, in an aisle seat by himself. He was one of the biggest sourpusses I’ve ever seen. He came in with such an aura of negativity and he sat there and glared at the stage, in what seemed like a purposeful attempt to infuse the entire theater with his negativity. I just don’t understand things like that. Thankfully, the little twit left at intermission, and it was a breath of fresh air not to have to look at his negative being again. I thought that whoever it was would go home and post on a chat board, but I haven’t seen it if he did. The cast got many well-deserved cheers at the end.
I then had to hurry over to the Julia Miles, where I joined Miss Juliana Hansen and Mr. Sal Viviano to see Noel’s Such Good Friends. Juliana wanted to see it as she knew people in it and Sal, of course, is the husband of star Liz Larsen. It was an almost-full house filled with lots of friendly faces (it sounded like the director had a whole hoard of fans and friends in the audience when he made a little speech before the show began). The mighty cast includes the aforementioned Miss Larsen, who was wonderful as a TV variety show star in the early 50s. Brad Oscar plays the director, Lynne Winterstellar plays another performer, and both are excellent. There was much to enjoy on the stage, and I was happy to see our bass player as part of the three-piece band. There were a lot of songs, twenty-nine listed in the program, but the show moved along nicely and was slightly under two hours with the intermission. The first act was light and fun, the second act darker and more serious. The director did a nice job of balancing everything, the costumes were wonderful, the set was functional (and way too big to store in the proscribed four by four space all NYMF shows are constrained to use – Noel didn’t seem to know where the set went, but it clearly is stored somewhere other than the theater). Everyone seemed to enjoy it and I know Noel received many kudos afterward. I said hey to Brad Oscar and gave a big hug to Liz Larsen.
I then had to eat or I was going to pass out on the sidewalk, so Juliana and I joined the big hainsies/kimlets contingent at the Brooklyn Diner. It was quite a lively gathering, with Jose, Cason, BJ, Juliana, Miss Karen, edisaurus, Greg, Cillaliz, the beautiful (and TALL) Samantha and that little old winemaker, me. We were all quite rowdy and at one point the entire table sang Iowa Stubborn (quite well, I thought). I had a bacon cheeseburger and a salad and no dessert. I will say that Miss Karen was involved in a large bit of thievery of the french fry kind. We all went our separate ways – I was really cold as the temperature had suddenly plummeted from the mid-eighties to the sixties. I hurried home, where I was greeted with a plethora of new e-mails to answer and notes to write.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because it’s almost bed time for that little old winemaker, me.
My goodness, it’s almost three in the morning. Today, I shall hopefully sleep in until at least ten, then I will have to get ready to see the one o’clock matinee of The Last Starfighter, which I’m really looking forward to. I think there may be some sort of supper thing afterwards, probably an early supper, as Cillaliz and Samantha have an eight o’clock performance of Legally Blonde. I may try to see another NYMF show in the evening.
I also have to inscribe about thirty gifts for cast and crew, as well as attend to other matters. Tomorrow, of course, we’ll be doing our final performance of The Brain From Planet X at eight o’clock or thereabouts. I’ll also have to figure out how to go print my boarding pass, which I’ll do tomorrow morning first thing. And then, early the next morning I’ll be on my way back to LA and a whole mess o’ stuff to deal with, including the disaster.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, see The Last Starfighter, inscribe gifts, sup, and maybe see another NYMF show. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your all-time favorite TV commercial slogans or catchphrases? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst the little old winemaker, me, hits the road to dreamland.