Well, dear readers, I am writing these here notes from high in the sky. Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, these are Sky High Notes. Next to me is what looks to be a fifteen-year-old Pillsbury Dough Boy. Next to him is his very skinny sister. What a shame she wanted the window seat. I gotta tell you. I have no idea where we are, but since it’s still somewhat light out, we’re not near New York, that’s for sure. And since this here computer is telling me that it’s 6:22 California time, you’ve probably figured out that my 12:30 p.m. flight should be landing right now. Of course we would be had we actually taken off at 12:30 or anything approximating 12:30, but noooo, that would have been to easy. I got up early in the morning and did a two-mile jog, then shaved and showered and was ready for the car, which picked me up right on time. Traffic wasn’t too bad at all. I got the airport around 11:00 and got right through security in moments. And then we got the news. Our flight was going to be delayed one hour. Only one flight seemed to have gotten off the ground on time and that was an earlier flight. Otherwise, every single flight was delayed. This, of course, did not make me happy. But I sat there like so much impatient fish. We should have been boarding the plane at no later than 12:50, and yet we weren’t. We finally got on the plane around 1:10, which did not bode well for the 1:20 take off. I then overheard one of the crew saying that they, in fact, were not the crew – the crew was on its way, from where I had no clew. The crew got there about ten minutes later, right about the time we should have been taking off. At one-thirty the captain came out and said the following line: “It just keeps getting better.” Of course, he meant the opposite. The “better” turned out to be another one-hour delay because of air traffic at JFK in New York. Rather than have planes circling and stacked up, they were staggering everyone’s departure times. So, we taxied out to the runway and sat there for another hour. We finally took off around 2:40. This did not bode well for an on-time arrival at nine. No, this meant that I would not be landing until ten-thirtyish. That meant that dinner at Joe Allen was out of the question, because IF we landed on time and IF I got to the hotel in thirty minutes, it would be after eleven, and by the time I got settled in and then to the restaurant it would be eleven-thirty at the earliest. That was not a good thing, however, since I had no food to eat on the plane, and it would be too late to get anything by the time I got into the hotel, and I wasn’t about to spend thirty bucks on some stupid room service crap that I’d then be eating about midnight. So, my meal o’ the day has thus far consisted of one ounce of cashew nuts, one small bag of cheesy assorted chip things, and one almond biscotti – a grand total of 500 calories with a few too many fat grams for my taste (nothing horrendous, but nuts and chips have a lot of fat grams). So, if I don’t eat anything else, I won’t be eating again until FJL’s get-together at seven-thirty, unless I absolutely have to have something during rehearsal – if I do, I’ll get a fruit plate from somewhere. Naturally, all this put me in a rancid mood, which I tried to get over quickly. The staff on the plane were very apologetic and very nice – it’s not their fault that the weather is screwy, nor is it their fault that JFK happens to be one of the worst run airports in the country in terms of dealing with rain. Thus it has always been.
This seems like the all-time longest flight ever, even though we were told it was four-and-a-half hours. It already seems like it’s been six hours and we’re still ninety minutes away. I do hope the cabs are out and waiting and I’ll try to get to them as quickly as possible. I’m really hungry, and if there happened to be a Subway near the hotel and if it happened to be open (which it wouldn’t be) I would have a small turkey sandwich or something. Oh, well. I have never stayed in the neighborhood of Chelsea – the hotel is on 28th Street, somewhere around Sixth or Seventh Avenue, I’d imagine. I have no idea if there’s anything open late around there. Perhaps a deli – who knows, and who knows if I’ll have the energy to go down there once I’m checked in. We shall see.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below so I can finish writing these Sky High Notes, so that they’re all ready to post when I get to the hotel.
There are a lot of very young children on this aeroplane. I’ll say no more.
This morning, I shall try and get up early and jog, but it will completely depend on how I’m feeling. I would like to, though, so I’ll do my darndest to have the energy. Directly after that, I’d have to shower, check out of the hotel, and cab it up to Nola Rehearsal Studios on 54th. I’d much rather walk than cab, but I’ll have my computer and my little suitcase with me. We’ll see how I feel and when I actually get out of the hotel. It’s probably only a thirty minute walk.
We’ll rehearse until six, at which point I’ll go to Miss Crista Moore’s apartment, get the keys, be shown where everything is and how it works (especially the Internet), and then I’ll head over to FJL and Skip’s for the hainsies/kimlets get-together, which I’m very much looking forward to.
Tomorrow, I have no idea when we’re leaving or what the transportation will be – I’ll just show up where they tell me, or have them come get me. After the show, Kevin and I will be supping somewhere, and then I’ll have a Sunday morning work session with Crista, and then I’ll be on my way to the airport, hoping to high heaven that there are no problems getting out of here.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, attempt to jog, have a rehearsal, check in at Miss Moore’s apartment, and then attend a get-together. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Friday – what is currently in your CD player and your DVD/video player. I’ll start – CD, the soundtrack to Cinderella Liberty, a marvelously marvelous John Williams score with exquisite harmonica playing by Toots Thielmans. DVD, the extras on High and Low, which I’ll watch when I return home. VCR – I intend to watch the original Michael Ritchie cut of The Fantasticks, which I’ve only seen one. Mr. Harvey Schmidt sent this to me years ago, long before the film actually snuck into theaters for the week it played in its Francis Ford Coppola re-cut, which I really did not like at all. Your turn. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I sit here like so much fish, waiting to arrive in New York. Thus end the Sky High Notes, brought to you by Nabisco.