Day 2, April 19

Today we're going to Lincoln center to hear from an artist in residence.

At Lincoln center we heard an actor (Eric Scott Kincaid) sing, dance, and answer questions. To play New York theater critic: He started with the opening number from Oklahoma, then the opening number of Caberet. He was flamboyant to a remarkable degree. Everything was outsized. It was fun for the kids to see what a Broadway performance might look like up close. For me, I'd prefer to be thirty rows back. Once he started talking he was knowledgeable and impressive. He talked about everything from the structure of shows to costumes to voice technique. His speech was filled with enough specific examples that the overview was still interesting for the folks who know lots about Broadway (at least a lot more than I do). His personal story was interesting, also. He walked us through the whole audition process, explaining a casting call for Avenue Q, a call back. I admit I started off as a very skeptical audience member, but he won me over. Of course, the room, a corner room with floor to ceiling windows on the tenth floor, made anything inside pretty impressive.









During our tour I sang at the State Theater, where the New York City Opera company performs. I sang two notes, just to try out the acoustics (which stink, because the room was designed for ballet, and even has a sound-absorbing flexible stage).









Andrew Boldt has been a bit scandalized by all the nudes in sculptures and paintings all over town. Betty Plude's response: Wait 'til he gets to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.






While the kids went to an acting workshop Mr.Witt asked me if I wanted a couple of hours to mull around the city. I told him I do enjoy the mulling. I like to mull. I'm good at it. So I wandered down a few block, made a random left, wandered some more.


Sad New York note: I walked past a soup kitchen under an overpass, and it looked like a cafeteria at the world's saddest nursing home. The people ALL looked very old. Now, it could just be that living on the streets ads years to one's life, but I wonder how many folks retire from unsuccessful working adulthoods to a twilight of homelessness. At least there was a warm place for them to get a hot meal.

Happy note: A woman with a heavy Brooklyn accent asked me, ME!, what street we were on. She wasn't, lost, just wanted the street number. Maybe she identified me as a tourist and thought, "This yokel will know where we are." But I like to think she mistook me for a genuine New Yorker. Woohoo!

I've now crossed 2 Duane Reades (a pharmacy chain), 2 Lowes Theaters, and my 2nd Burger King advertising itself as an internet cafe. I'm starting tp worry that another ten blocks of mulling in midtown will make me believe in Deja Vu. 10 Starbucks? Twelve?

Yep. Another Duane Reade. Another BK/ internet cafe.

Came all the way back to 8th and 37th, then realized I'd been only a couple blocks from Madison Square Garden. Went back, sportsfans. It's a very cool place to visit, with pictures of some of the greatest events in the Garden up all over.












On the way I passed a shop in the fashion district called "Stretch House" advertising all the spandex fabric the world could ever need, and a whole lot more. More spandex, that is. Nothing but spandex.



And another. How many Spandex Stores does one city need?




We went to a kosher deli. It was called Ben's, which I appreciated. I tried a pickled tomato. Not a fan. Tastes more like a pickle, but with a hint that a tomato has been deeply wronged.



I sat with Maria, Christina, and Jesse. I tried to dissuade Jesse from getting a tattoo when she turns 18. Wait! Wait! But no. I was unsuccessful. She's going to end up with her own last name (maybe someday it will be her maiden name) on her back, and maybe portraits of her dog and her cat on her calves.



In the kosher deli where we went for dinner, there was a joke written in fancy letters around the room. It said, "A couple was dining out at the neighborhood kosher deli and they were amazed to have a Chinese waiter approached to take their order. To their astonishment, the suave Asian addressed them in perfect Yiddish. When he left they asked the proprietor, "A Chinese waiter in a Jewish deli?! And he speaks perfect Yiddish? How so?" "Shhh!" whispered the proprietor. "He thinks I'm teaching him English."

After dinner, before our show began, I wandered around Times Square with Erik Brown. One of my friends who lives in New York warned me that Times Square is "whack". He was certainly correct. Most of the restaurants and stores are big chains one could find anywhere. I can't imagine going to New York only to eat and an Olive Garden or shop at a Toys 'R' Us. Well, I did go into Toys 'R' Us, because I have to enter every toy store I see, but I didn't buy anything there. It did have some cool displays, though. It's still no FAO Schwarz.







I think my dad would appreciate the Hershey's store, though. They pump the smell of chocolate out onto the street. It's a better smell than some we've encountered so far.






Bebe Neuworth in Chicago: Holy... She is... The whole production is... Wow. And these dancers... Wow. If it always looked that good, I might actually become a jazz fan.



During one particularly poignant moment in the show, as Roxy shoots her victim in the trial scene, the lighting goes red, the body drops, and a woman in the front of the balcony gasps a breathy but audible, "My gaawwd!"

During Hairspray (which I didn't see), after the curtain call, when the cast asked the audience to make charitable donations to Broadway Cares, an HIV/AIDS charity, Jesse Gerdes shouted to the male lead (who played the mother), "I love you," and was blessed with an "I love you too. I don't know who that was, but I love you back. Call me."

At the end of the day I was informed that parents want more pic of kids, less of scenery. I will try to oblige tomorrow. Right now it's 2:46 am at night and I'm still making my last edits to this post, so I think it's time to call it a night. Thank goodness for Red Bull.