Well, I'm in from a lovely day. Dylan arrived later than planned, took care of becoming a Noo Yawker by getting a new 646 area code cell phone, got a Metro card and hit the pavement looking for work. He's coming back in on Tuesday night to follow a lead on a DVD store employee (he's a film studies major interviewing next week for the film school) and hit a few more possibilities. I guess I'll be parenting, mentoring, or diving him crazy this summer.
I'm in a big minority, but I'm tired of hearing Brian Stokes Mitchell, a good pop singer, crash and burn as a legit baritone, from DO RE MI to KISS ME KATE to MAN OF LA MANCHA to SOUTH PACIFIC. I can't believe others don't miss what I don't hear from him. I loved him in RAGTIME and JELLy'S LAST JAM, and I'm thrilled I missed him as Sweeney Todd.
I spent the afternoon while Dylan worked Broadway watching a new DVD of Mozart's LE NOZZE DI FIGARO, and Patrizia Ciofi may be the next Teresa Stratas; what a wonderful actress. Her "Deh vieni non tardar" in Act Four was amazing.