Well, dear readers, I must write these here notes in a hurry because she of the Evil Eye will be here all too soon. So, let me get right to the point – oh, a Sweet Charity reference. The drive to Costa Mesa was excruciating. I ask you, where else on all the Internet can you read such an opening salvo as the drive to Costa Mesa was excruciating. Nowhere, that’s where. Miss Juliana Hansen and I left at 3:50 and a drive that should have taken an hour at most took just under two hours. We parked and went to the restaurant that’s directly adjacent to the concert hall. It was completely empty. We asked for a table for two and were told that if we didn’t have a reservation we’d have to sit at the bar. Since I was not in the mood to go walking or hunting for another jernt, I agreed to it. I shouldn’t have. This jernt is owned by the same people who own Pinot, the outdoor restaurant at the Music Center. I cannot stand their food, frankly. Every dish on the menu had at least two things I would never want in my mouth. I finally settled on a cheese plate to start (splitting with Juliana), and the halibut, which seemed the lesser of all the evils – I did ask them to hold the octopus which they put on top of it, which they agreed to. Then we saw Adryan Russ and Lissa Levin arrive and they of course had known to make a reservation. But as we were talking to them a nice man sat down next to us at the bar and said he’d just cancelled his reservation and we could have his table, so we did that. The halibut was teeny-tiny but okay tasting – I had no idea exactly what else was on the plate, but it was all okay, but basically like eating a small appetizer.
After dinner we convened to the lobby and found somebody who knew what they were doing – they told us there was a small group being taken back to see my close personal friend, Mr. Stephen Sondheim, and that we’d be going back in five minutes. While we were waiting, I told Juliana exactly how Steve would react to me, which is not at all. I have known this man for twenty-two years, produced a rather large number of CDs containing his music, and just performed a miracle on a cast album of one of his shows. But every time I have seen him, no matter where, no matter when, the greeting is always the same – he kind of looks in my direction, doesn’t even acknowledge who I actually am, and shakes hands with me. If I make the move and say, “Hi, Steve, Bruce Kimmel,” then I’ll get a brief, “Oh, hi Bruce.” Now, his eyes, which have always been scrunched up and weird were practically and totally closed so maybe he just didn’t know who I was, even though Michael Kerker pointed him in my direction and said, “You know this guy.” And then exactly what I told Juliana would happen happened – he sort of glanced in my direction and offered me his limp hand, and then moved on to the group. They were friends of the theater, I think, and he graciously answered their questions and then went to the dressing room. I think when I send my next e-mail, which will be today, I will have to mention this, just because it’s so weird.
Then we went back to the lobby. I knew a few people there and recognized some others, including one of our very own Dancing Dildos, Steve Yudson. The ubiquitous Marilyn and Alan Bergman were there, too. Then the show began. Michael Kerker of ASCAP did a terrific job moderating and his questions were just enough to get Sondheim going, and Sondheim was charming and self-effacing and occasionally surprisingly candid about a few of his collaborators. He’s told most of the anecdotes repeatedly, but it’s always fun to hear them and he seemed to be enjoying himself. His weird little eye scrunches and poking himself and his tics were going full throttle – I wonder if he’s always done that? There were about seven songs done, all sung by Christine Ebersole and Brian “Stokes” Mitchell, both of whom were very good, even though they never achieved great and that was mostly because they were reading their lyrics for every song. After Miss Ebersole did a nice Losing My Mind, Michael Kerker was nice enough to plug our Follies CD, which was very sweet of him to do. The whole thing ran a little less than two hours with no intermission. Mr. Sondheim received a standing ovation upon his entrance and the two singers got one at the end. All in all, a fun evening with about a two-thirds full house.
After, we went backstage again. I’d already been told that Sondheim was bolting directly after the show, which I guess he did. Juliana said hello to Miss Ebersole, and then I said hello and who I was. She just looked at me blankly and said hello back. I guess she has no memory of having recorded for me, which she had on the Sherman Brothers album. I guess I must have a better memory than most, because if I’ve worked with someone, whether that someone did a solo turn or was in the ensemble in a show or recording, I always remember who they are. There were too many people around “Stokes” so we just left. The ride home was over an hour quicker. We were still hungry, so we went to the Studio Café and I had the quesadilla with guacamole and sour cream and salsa.
Prior to all that, I had a pretty nice day. I got early. That was pretty nice. Then I immediately had to go to Teddy, who coifed me but good – really short hair this go round. Then I came back to the San Fernando Valley, came home, printed out some orders, saw the helper, answered e-mails, and then I went and picked up a couple of packages and an important envelope. Then I did some banking, and then I watched half of a Maria Wern movie. I prefer the Maria Wern movies to the Irene Huss movies. And then it was time to go.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I must get some semblance of beauty sleep.
Today, I will be up early and I shall jog, then have something to eat, then I’ll come home and prep Monday’s two CD announcements, and then I’ll finish the current set of liner notes. Then I’ll try to come up with a show order for the next Kritzerland show and if I do I may even get a head start on the contextual commentary. I’ve been invited to a neighbor’s house for some little soiree they’re doing – I’ve only met the woman who invited me when she was walking by the house one day. She said it’s some kind of Broadway evening, with singers. I’m not sure I’ll go – we shall see.
Tomorrow, I will try to relax if possible, but I’m sure there’ll be a few things to do and my musical director will be coming to pick up the music and a CDR. And I’m sure I’ll watch some motion pictures.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, do a jog, eat, hopefully pick up some packages, prep two CD announcements, finish liner notes, try doing a show order and then I’ll decide about the soiree. Today’s topic of discussion: What is the single worst experience you’ve ever had in a restaurant? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, where I shall not dream of my close personal friend, Mr. Stephen Sondheim.