Well, dear readers, can someone please explain to me how we have almost reached the end of April? How can that be? This month has flown by, like a gazelle with rickets. I gotta tell you. And actually, this evening has flown by, like a gazelle with too much time on its hands, and now I must write these notes in a hurry for I am tired and can barely keep Ye Olde Eyelids open. So, rather than telling you the tale of The Randy Vicar and the Cornish Game Hen, I give you the notes.
Yesterday, for example, I got up after a very good night’s sleep. I answered e-mails, and then made a show order for the show. Then I got some matzo brei and a bagel, after which I did some errands and whatnot, picked up no packages and no important envelope, and then did a mile and a half jog. Then it was time for rehearsal. First up were our Annie gals, and that went great after we adjusted the tempo a bit. The MD was still rough around the edges – he just doesn’t see his pencil markings and sometimes plays in the wrong key or doesn’t see something we did in the arrangement. It’s a little frustrating, but he promised that he will really work on it this weekend because I told him that on Tuesday we can have no mistakes of that kind. It’s very hard on the singers when we have only these limited rehearsals. Then everyone else came – some went very smoothly and some didn’t, but we covered everything and I watched to make sure things were written down, and then I starred the things that had to be worked on and listened to before Tuesday. The rehearsal too about three and a half hours, after which I sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I watched a motion picture I’d TIVOd entitled Peggy Sue Got Married, starring Miss Kathleen Turner and Mr. Nicholas Cage, with a rather stellar supporting cast of young players including Joan Allen, Jim Carrey, and veterans Barbara Harris, Don Murray, Leon Ames, and Maureen O’Sullivan. I liked it when I first saw it, but didn’t quite think it achieved greatness. I’ve seen it twice since and still feel that way, and I think most of that reaction comes from the performance of Mr. Cage, which is just mannered and weird. Everyone else is quite good. I didn’t remember that this and not Godfather III was, in fact, the acting debut of Sofia Coppola. Mr. Francis Coppola’s direction is good, although once you know the trick of its opening and closing shots, it’s really obvious what the trick is. Today with CGI it would be very simple to achieve what was not easily achievable back then. The score by John Barry is wonderful. It’s an enjoyable film, and I love its “being back in the past” idea, something that I dream about a lot.
I then began writing my contextual commentary for the Gardenia show and it took me about ninety minutes to get halfway through. I’ll finish the rest today.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I must get my beauty sleep whilst pondering exactly what “rickets” is or are.
Today, I must finish my contextual commentary, then I have some errands and whatnot to do, some big bills to pay, hopefully pick up some packages and the important envelope, and then have a work session and then a birthday dinner celebration for the now thirteen year old at Ruth’s Chris steakhouse.
Tomorrow, I have to deliver a big box o’ CDs, and I have to write the damn liner notes I keep putting off and putting off. Once that’s all done, perhaps I’ll be able to sit and relax. Next week I have work sessions, our stumble-through, meetings and meals, the show, and getting prepared for my trip to New York and the to record Jason Graae’s Jerry Herman show when I return.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, finish my contextual commentary, jog, do errands and whatnot, pay bills, hopefully pick up some packages and the important envelope, have a work session, and then dine. Today’s topic of discussion: What are your favorite performances of Miss Kathleen Turner and Mr. Nicholas Cage, and what are your favorite films of Mr. Coppola? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, thinking about the meaning of rickets.