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[Matt H.]

I haven't checked the figures in a couple of weeks. How's BOMBAY DREAMS doing at the box-office, especially in view of its lack of major Tony Award nominations.

[S. Woody White]

Congratulations, SWW!

I hope that you won’t let work interfere with your posting!

My thanks to all for the congrats.  It's going to be a challenge, since it will be my first time working in retail.  Responding to DR TCB, I'll certainly keep up on my posts when I'm not on the job or doing other essential things.

Hopefully, we'll be getting der Brucer back on-line, using my computer if he won't use his own.  Then you'll have both of us to kick around, and vice versa!  

[Matt H.]

I suppose the "Chololat" section of the American in Paris ballet wouldn't be substantial enough.  And after a while you'd crave variety.

 

Well, with Gene Kelly as the purveyor of said enjoyment, perhaps I could FORCE myself to partake.

[Matt H.]

After watching two episodes of CSI tonight back-to-back, it's easy to become addicted to the hunky, handsome man below.

[S. Woody White]

Fave show song of the new decade, so far:

"Don't Be the Bunny," from Urinetown.  I played the CD while we were driving eastward, and I thought der Brucer was going to swerve off of the road, he was laughing so hard.  He insisted on my playing the track again immediately, and then again when we'd finished the score.

I like the score for Wicked, but while The Producers and Hairspray have their moments, they're basically lightweight.  Avenue Q must play extremely well on stage, because after maybe four playings of the CD I can't imagine needing to hear it again.  (Not like I didn't give it an honest chance.)

[S. Woody White]

Addictions:

I smoked for years.  So did der B.  I finally got worried about my heart (strange, that, since my grandfather died of lung cancer, but let's not quibble) and quit cold turkey.  So did der B.  Then a couple of friends came over needing his help with thier taxes, they lit up, he lit up, I lit up...oh, spoo.

I quit again a couple of years later, and was a total bitch for a week or so, the length of time it took me to get the nicotine out of my system.  Within a year, I gained fifty pounds.  Actually, that was a good thing, since I was about fifty pounds underweight at the time, not good for someone as tall as I am (look it up in yesterday's posts).  But fifty pounds in one year!!!???  Talk about a shock to the system.  Ever since then, when I've heard women complaining about how uncomfortable they are when their weight shifts, I know very much what they're talking about.

But that was the easy "addiction" story...

[Matt H.]

One famous movie I've never seen is coming on again tonight on the Fox Movie Channel: FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX. If I like the film (it's long), I know the DVD is available. I'm having the DVR record it at midnight.

So, someone who has the DVD already, what's the quality of the picture and sound like? Thanks in advance.

[Tomovoz]

TOTD:
First that come to mind are
"Popular" (Wicked)
"Solla Sollew" (Seussical)
"Our Kind  Of Love" (The Beautiful Game)

Addictions: I collected top 40 lists from the late 50's until 1990! I had to know what was #1 in OZ, the UK and USA.
I have other addictions but .......

[bk]

Jay: I'd just had that very sandwich at Art's.  And, I'm rather fond of Jerry's fries and ranch dressing.  Never again.

[S. Woody White]

No one here has yet talked about going into rehab.  Let me be the first.

I've talked before about being a chronic depressive.  It's a mental condition, one treatable these days with medication.  Actually, it's always been treatable with medication, but it used to be that the wrong medication was available.  Plenty of people with depression have self-medicated with alcohol, however, and I was one of them.

Any time you hear a story about someone destroying themselves with the bottle, or committing suicide, don't forget what depression can do, because that's too often the underlying factor.  Because we don't usually care to admit that depression is a genuine illness, however, our society is prone to ignore this underlying cause.

Well, in my case I found drink to be a great way of easing my pain, mostly because I didn't know I was depressed.  It's hard to know something like that when it simply isn't discussed, or if people simply tell you to "snap out of it."  Even after realizing that I was depressed, and getting medication, I still was going to the bottle.  My favorite was Canadian whiskey.  (But I'm not going to blame Canada.)  It had become a habit.

About two years ago, I finally spiraled out of control.  There came the morning when I simply couldn't function, was simply falling apart, and der Brucer had to take drastic action.  He had me call my office, tell them that I was seeking help, and then he found a hospital in Orange County that worked with alcohol rehab, drove me there, and got me admitted.

That was the good part.

[S. Woody White]

I spent a week in that hospital.  On the one hand, they did dry me out.  On the other hand, because I was having trouble sleeping, they doped me up on sleeping pills.  I lost track of the number of meals I missed because I was sleeping so much.

I was also supposed to be attending training sessions, where we would be taught about addiction and how AA would help us.  There was no hint of any other systems even existing other than AA.  I don't remember much about the meetings during the first half of the week.  I was too doped up on sleeping pills.

Sometime during the week, I was able to concentrate enough to help another inmate finish a jigsaw puzzle.  And sometime during the week I was able to concentrate enough to listen to another inmate's problems, and ask her questions, and get her out of the mindset that she was a failure, tell her that she could change her life.  She felt very good about my telling her that.  Der Brucer felt good about that, too, but I don't remember his being there.  I guess I could only concentrate on one thing, one person at a time.

I went in on a Monday.  I was scheduled to leave the following Monday.  A doctor, supposedly someone whose care I was under, came to see me on Saturday.  He asked me if I wanted to go home.  I said yes.  He signed a few papers, and told me I was to leave that day.  I didn't have any money on me for a cab, and was lucky der Brucer was home when I called (they did let me use the phone), because he had been given no hint that I was to be leaving early.

We left the hospital.  He'd found an out-treatment facility for me, recommended by the hospital, where I was to start the next week.  On our way home, we first stopped at a nursury, where I guess there were plants, they didn't interest me much, and then went to a Chinese restaurant for my first decent meal in a week, but it all tasted flat.

I cried.  He cried.

It's a good thing I had been released on Saturday, because it took the entire weekend to get the sleeping pills out of my system.  Then he took me to my first session at the out-patient center on Monday.

[S. Woody White]

The center was run by a man who called himself "Dusty" Rhodes.  The treatment center was for alcoholics (which he had been) and drug addicts, particularly meth, I think.  He was very AA in his attitude, wanting everyone to embrace the full confessional.  He wanted everyone to understand that blood and urine tests could take place at any moment, to make sure we weren't cheating.  And he kept a strict party line.

There apparently was no such thing as free will if you were an addict.  The alcohol or drug was in complete control.  The only way to beat the drug or drink was to completely surrender to AA, to attend full day sessions with him, or later to go to two AA meetings a day after he thought you could handle it.  Not only could I never go near alcohol again in the form of drink, I could not truct myself near mouthwash or vanilla extract.  These were his rules.

And confession was good for the soul.  We were all to confess how we had hurt people around us, admit how we could never make up to them for the hurts we had caused.

I lasted with that crap for less than a week.

The final straw came in two parts, but both took place the same night.  It was a mandatory session, where the partners of the addicted were to attend as well, so that confession about the hurting could be done in front of a full audience, with the others and their partners as witnesses.  For some reason, Dusty wasn't there that night (an important point, as it turned out).

There was one woman there who came with her husband and her two daughters.  They confronted each other with how ashamed she was with her blackouts, and her behavior in front of her teenaged daughters friends.  And the family told her, in return, how hurt they had all been.  And a few tears were wiped away, and they told each other how they still loved each other, and they hugged.

And there was a rustling among the audience.

Der Brucer and I were the next players for this confessional scene.  We told each other about the hurt, and not meaning to, and how sorry I was for not really being there for him when he needed me (during that week in the hospital, the Scottie Geordie had taken a turn for the worse, and was the only dog we've had to put down), and so on...and we told each other how we loved each other, and hugged each other.

And this kid, still in high school, told us that we hadn't reached deep into ourselves enough.

The rest of the night was spent listening to people telling each other about how hurt they were, and how they had hurt each other.  And no one else ever used the word love.  There was lots of blame to be shared, but no forgiveness.

During a break, I mentioned to the "faciltator" at this meeting that I had a question about the wording of one of the twelve steps that were prominently plastered on every wall.  It had to do with how we had to admit that the drug or drink was in control of us.  My question was about how something that was inanimate could be in control of anything.  Wouldn't it be more accurate to say that the drug or drink caused us to loose our own control?  The facilitator just stammered that I was just beginning the program, and that these steps were well established.

Der Brucer was fuming on the long drive home that night.

[S. Woody White]

That night meeting had been on Thursday.  Early Friday, the next meeting began.  We had someone new in our group, someone who had been to two meeting already that day, because he had been thinking about sniffing glue.  He quivered as he made his confession, he was so happy to be there.  He looked as if he had found religion.

Then, Dusty made a speech to the group in general.  He brought up how I had asked him about the step regarding the drink or drug's control, questioning the twelve-step wisdom.  And Dusty was very clear about how we had to give ourselves over to the twelve steps, or we would never escape the addictions.  For any of us to turn our backs on the twelve steps would lead to our distruction.

If the lack of love that der Brucer had witnessed the previous night, the demand that everyone put on a show of dramatic confession, had been his breaking point, this was mine.  Dusty hadn't been at the meeting, yet he was saying I had posed the question to him.  I don't like people who lie, not like that.

That evening, when der Brucer came to pick me up and drive me home, he asked me if I was happy with the program I was in.  I told him I wasn't, really.  I'd still been reeling under the tail end of the sleeping pills when I'd started the program, pills I'd been given at the hospital, and I was even then on the groggy side, not thinking clearly.  Then der B. handed me a brochure.  He'd done his research, of course, and found a different program, one that was geared to the individual.  Individual sessions with a qualified psychotheripist, plus education sessions and group sessions with a trained facilitator.  Would I rather try this other treatment program?  It was covered by my insurance.

Yes.

And I felt as if der Brucer had given me a gift.

Dusty was mad as hell when I called and told him I wouldn't be returning.  He was close to threatening me, but I cut him off by hanging up the telephone.

The treatment was pretty much effective.  The real trick was to break me of my alcohol dependency, to make me realize that I didn't need it as an emotional crutch.  Yes, I now drink wine, and occasionally a hard drink.  But I'm no longer drinking to get drunk, to blot out the pain.  I'm healthier now.

End of story.

[S. Woody White]

Aw, c'mon, somebody tell a happy story now!  

[S. Woody White]

DR Jose:  Looks like our favorite Alton is going to be holding a Q&A session over at eGullet.com!  This sounds like great timing for me, as my new job is at a "gear" shop!  We're going to have to gang up on him with questions!

[bk]

Here is my happy story: I just watched Miss Leslie Parrish in a wonderful episode of Surfside Six.  More about that later.  But for now, might I just ask where in tarnation IS everyone?

[François de Paris]

...a happy story, dear Reader SWW?

You're tough competition, you know....

I'm just glad you got rid of that charlatan!

Depression can also be a "retreat" like alcohol or drugs!

[S. Woody White]

Here's a switch, in a story at Playbill On-Line.  PS Classics will be releasing the Broadways Cast Recording of Assassins.  Which opens a question: Why didn't this go to Nonesuch, as ITW, The Frogs, Saturday Night, and Bounce have gone?

[Jed]

Here's a switch, in a story at Playbill On-Line.  PS Classics will be releasing the Broadways Cast Recording of Assassins.  Which opens a question: Why didn't this go to Nonesuch, as ITW, The Frogs, Saturday Night, and Bounce have gone?

My guess would be perhaps Roundabout has a deal with PS Classics, as they also released last year's (or was it two years ago)  Nine recording.

[Tomovoz]

Will this be the first official recording of "Something just broke"?

[S. Woody White]

According to the article, yes, it will.

[Panni]

SWW - I have to comment on your brutally honest story -- but I really can't think of anything to say which wouldn't sound facile and trendy ("Thanks for sharing"...). So I'll simply acknowledge it and thank you for having the courage - and trust in us - to post it. But I do want to say that the one overwhelming fact which comes through loud and clear in your tale is that having a partner in your life who accepts and loves you, warts and all (and you him), is a true and great blessing.

[Noel]

In rehearsal and then doing a show.  Busy times.  But I wanted to answer that question about creative control:

If a writer wants creative control, he's best off writing poetry.  Once, I was talking to BK about how the novelist, usually, has no one hanging over his shoulder telling him to change things.  I think he thought I was being snarky.  But I've nothing against novelists: their experience is just completely different than that of a musical theatre writer.  If you seek creative control, don't look for it here:

Musical theatre is a collaborative experience, something of an ant farm.  I'm always doing the music and lyrics, sometimes the book.  Whatever I write has to serve the story, and there's always going to be adjustments required by what the book writer does.  And a good director will ask for a lot of changes in the songs.  And then, when you hear something on an actor's voice...  The CD of the original cast of Gypsy includes some early Ethel Merman tracks, where, surprise surprise, the melody to Mr. Goldstone is different.  After Styne heard that, it got altered (and a huge section of clever Sondheim lyrics got cut).

The collaboration is not just with actors, the director, and the librettist.  I once wrote a countermelody for a man "disappearing" inside a magician's box.  When the set designer told the producer how much it was going to cost to build this box, the verse was cut.  And the strongest voice in the show (Jay Aubrey Jones) wasn't heard in the huge finale to Act One.

On "Grand Knowing You" I was told "we can't light that" and a little bluebird on a string was cut because the stage manager was worried that somehow, this tiny bird was going to fly up and break some expensive lights.  I kid you not.

One more story: a producer commissioned a work from me and when I came up with an idea for a show for a cast of four, she said "You're thinking way too large.  Cut the cast size in half."  So I came up with an idea about a female pirate who meets what she thinks is a male pirate, but this turns out to be a female in drag (based on a true story.  Again, I kid you not.)  After casting my two-actress musical, the producer/director decided that the mezzo wasn't agile enough to be convincing as a pirate.  So, the role was re-cast... with a man.  I now had to rewrite the show so it no longer was about sisterly solidarity.  What it's about now, I do not know, but the show ran for many years, so I don't complain.

The birth of every musical is filled with disappointing compromises and ridiculous arguments.  I hope, in time, to remember the show better than I do the arguments.  But creative control is not what I'm after: entertaining the folks who've paid to see the damn thing is my only goal.  And if the birthing process is painful for me, so be it.

[Jason]

Just back from the gym. I spent a good 1 1/2 hours there tonight, but I'm afraid I may have overdone it. By the end of thirty minutes on the stairmaster (I'd already done an hour of strength training), I thought I was going to keel over from exhaustion. It was so hot in the cardio room that by the time I'd finished, there were literally pools of sweat under the stairmaster machine that I'd been using. Oh, well...12,000 steps closer to being thinner and in better shape.

After checking the box office grosses at Playbill.com, it would seem that BOMBAY DREAMS played at 87%, which ain't bad at the Broadway Barn. In fact, they were up 2.5% from the week before.

[S. Woody White]

SWW - I have to comment on your brutally honest story -- but I really can't think of anything to say which wouldn't sound facile and trendy ("Thanks for sharing"...). So I'll simply acknowledge it and thank you for having the courage - and trust in us - to post it. But I do want to say that the one overwhelming fact which comes through loud and clear in your tale is that having a partner in your life who accepts and loves you, warts and all (and you him), is a true and great blessing.

Thank you.

There is something about the DRs here that encourages this kind of honesty.  So I thank BK for giving us this forum.  There aren't many opportunities like this, and not many hosts as generous.

modified for grammar.  No, really, that was the only reason!  

[S. Woody White]

I'll return.  I've got some viewing I want to do.  (A grandlad is having a birthday in a couple of weeks, and I've been assigned coleslaw and potato salad.)

[George]

I have been most errant and truant today (and will be truant and errant again tomorrow AND Saturday) because today I worked (and will work Friday) backstage for a touring production of RENT that's at the Washington Center for the Performing Arts.  I have to work at my real job Friday morning and my call for RENT is 1:00 p.m.  I have to help with laundry.  Fun.  But, hey, I get paid!  And the load-out after the show is supposed to be very easy!

Saturday, I'm going to be gone all morning and in the evening, I have to take my niece to a Seattle Storm (women's basketball) game.  Oh, joy.  Actually, I'd gone to a couple games last year and it was pretty fun.  And I'm not paying for the tickets, so it's basically free.  I'm just the chauffeur.  Okay, I'm paying for gas, but it's still cheaper than the tickets.  Sunday, however, will truly be my day of rest!

As to the Topic of the Day, I don't think I can contribute...as much as I would love to.  Having to deal with costumes and unloading big giant semi-trucks and doing laundry and looking (just looking) at very attractive and much younger people in (and out of) various states of undress, just has my mind not able to focus.  Let's just say that I agree with a lot that's already been mentioned, okay?

[JoseSPiano]

Good Evening!

DR SWW - Thank you for the Alton Brown update... I don't check egullet.com as much as I'd like and should, so... but now...

And, Thank You!

Well, our "other god" was on for the matinee, but our "original god" was back in for the evening show.  And both did a great job - and both were actually still kind of sick too!  Troupers!  -Unfortunately, another round of "sickness" seems to be making it's way through the dressing rooms...  Hopefully, all the extra Vitamin C everyone is taking - and Purel - will do it's thing.

I had some "relatives" in the audience tonight.  Seven relatives of relatives of relatives who are currently visiting from London.  -It was kind of strange seeing a Filipino face but hearing an English accent coming from it.  Among them was a very adorable - and quiet - three-year old boy - who, apparently was enthralled the whole time and even knew when to clap!  I even brought him into the pit so he could check out my digs.  As a sign of his appreciation, he showed me his Mutant Ninja Turtles Action figure - the red one! -And it made noise too!

Oh, since food has been brought up recently...  Between shows I finally had dinner at the French Bistro across the street from the theatre, Bistro D'Oc - as in Languedoc, France.  Tres delicieux!!!

Since it was my first time dining there, I had some traditional mainstays.  The mesclun salad had the most wonderful vinaigrette on it - the "basic" mustard, vinegar and oil concoction - but it was soo good - just the right balance of flavors.  And then came the steak frites... I opted for the more traditional hanger steak onglet cut rather than the steak au poivre - that'll be for next time.  The steak was perfectly cooked medium rare, and had an amazing amount of flavor.  And the frites were hands down the best french fries I've ever had.  Hot, crispy, flecked with sea salt... and they were perfect for dipping into the mayonnaise and/or the drippings from the steak.  And there were a LOT of frites.  So many that I didn't finish them, even though I really wanted to... But instead I left room for dessert.... A chocolate concoction (surprise?!?!): chocolate pudding topped with chocolate sauce and a scoop of dark chocolate ice cream "splashed" with amaretto.  WOWZA!!!  First of all, the "pudding" was more like a chocolate creme brulee - without being bruleed - so rich, so tasty, and so chocolatey!  The scoop of ice cream was "small" but also packed quite the chocolate punch.  The amaretto was a great foil.  To be honest, I almost didn't finish it since I was getting full, and it really was rich... but finish it I did.  Needless to say, I had a very happy tummy throughout the show!

And now I've spent way too much time catching up on various things and with various people on the internet... and I should have been in bed hours ago.  Heck, I have a White House tour in a few hours.  -Ford's usually works out - depending upon the current security level - a nice "special" tour of the White House.  A few years ago, they even let the group into the Oval Office.  We'll see what happens in a few hours...  Then we have the put-in rehearsal for the "new guy" - who's also known as Rob - and then Rob's first show tomorrow night!

-Oh, and on a personal note, I have a date after the show tomorrow night, so...

Goodnight.

-And, yes, still no Bookworm for me!

[George]

Like Ben, I also have an addiction to compact discs. I re-organized my collection last week. It took nearly two and half hours to get through the showtunes alone. I have so many that I've created a database in my computer to keep track of them. According to my files, I have close to 400 cast recordings. Of those 400, SIX of them are various versions of LES MISERABLES. It's a sickness...truly.

I used to have an Excel spreadsheet of all my musicals (records and CDs), but it was on my computer when my computer died.  I know there are people who have more recordings than I do, but I had over 1,200 lines in my spreadsheet!  However, that did include cross references and double entries for CDs with two different shows and translations of foreign language recordings...but still that's a lot!

[George]

I must confess to one other addiction.  It is fairly new, extremely powerful, and like acting, no attempt has been made to control it or to recover from its power over me.  I will freely admit to being addicted to HHW and to all of the wonderful members who post here.  I can’t imagine a day going by without thinking, worrying, caring and sharing with all of you.  If they ever come up with a Twelve-Step program for this website, I will avoid it at all costs.   I can’t think of a more positive or enriching addiction to my life than HHW.

I don't feel that my desire to be part of HHW as an addiction, it's a necessity!