Tuesday, 6 September 2005 11:20 am
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deckardcanineI had another case, this time mild and fleeting, of frivolous guilt. You see, I went on vacation and watched a Broadway comedy musical. Know who else did? But my guilt was fairly silly because I'm not in a position of power, and I already gave money to the relief effort.
I felt guiltier for having an inordinate amount of junk food over the weekend. By my standards. Yes, I want to avoid getting thinner, but this is not the way.
Like the junk food, the NYC visit was a mixed bag. On the minus side, FAO Schwartz for the time being was completely out of Legos, video games, and worthwhile trivia games. The Guggenheim museum also had little to see, due to construction, tho realistically we didn't have time to see much more than we did. The travelling -- seemingly more than usual as my folks kept re-checking maps -- made me very tired and a bit bossy when we turned in after 1:30 AM two nights in a row, and I had volunteered for first the couch and then a quillow on the floor. Finally, I should never agree to attend something I don't like so that I can learn to like it, because that doesn't work. I'm talking about the U.S. Open, which we attended for 3 hours before deciding that the current match was going to take too long. (Our host and friend Paul proceeded to watch a single match that lasted 4.5 hours! The crowd gave a standing ovation before the end, just for stamina.)
Now the plus side. In addition to Paul, we got to visit a family of friends, including one I hadn't seen in 10 years, and we lunched with several of our own out-of-state relatives on the way back. The Guggenheim introduced me to Vasily Kandinsky, a rather spellbinding abstract painter. FAO Schwartz no longer has that clock that plays "Welcome to My World of Toys" all day, so the employees probably have more fun now. My sister Sarah, who is majoring in biology, bought an entire collection of stuffed giant microbes. (She said "Catch!" as she threw the common cold at us.) It was also nice just having Sarah's New Zealand friend Chris with us for another perspective.
And then there was the musical, Hairspray. About five years ago, influenced in part by my Baltimorean dad, I saw the John Waters film featuring Ricki Lake and Sonny Bono among others. Its rating of 6.7 on IMDb is about right. I found it only sporadically amusing, and I can barely remember it now. In fact, I can hardly remember there being an actor in drag (Divine) at all.
But there was no forgetting the one in this show. We were lucky: the two guys playing the Turnblad parents were doing their last performance before moving on. At the same time, they didn't quite steal the show. There were great lines and numbers all over. The costumes and sets were outrageous. The dancing was nifty too; I just don't normally pay it much attention. The ending is absurdly happy, but hey, Broadway's almost monopolized by wackiness now, right? And I forgive the lack of a Bawlamer accent, because enunciation can't be spared on stage. Now if only we'd gotten seats where the sound didn't get faint from time to time.
Oh yeah. In honor of the actor of Edna Turnblad going on to "Celebrity Fit Club," the writers bought the whole theater donuts. Just to compound my guilt, you know.
I felt guiltier for having an inordinate amount of junk food over the weekend. By my standards. Yes, I want to avoid getting thinner, but this is not the way.
Like the junk food, the NYC visit was a mixed bag. On the minus side, FAO Schwartz for the time being was completely out of Legos, video games, and worthwhile trivia games. The Guggenheim museum also had little to see, due to construction, tho realistically we didn't have time to see much more than we did. The travelling -- seemingly more than usual as my folks kept re-checking maps -- made me very tired and a bit bossy when we turned in after 1:30 AM two nights in a row, and I had volunteered for first the couch and then a quillow on the floor. Finally, I should never agree to attend something I don't like so that I can learn to like it, because that doesn't work. I'm talking about the U.S. Open, which we attended for 3 hours before deciding that the current match was going to take too long. (Our host and friend Paul proceeded to watch a single match that lasted 4.5 hours! The crowd gave a standing ovation before the end, just for stamina.)
Now the plus side. In addition to Paul, we got to visit a family of friends, including one I hadn't seen in 10 years, and we lunched with several of our own out-of-state relatives on the way back. The Guggenheim introduced me to Vasily Kandinsky, a rather spellbinding abstract painter. FAO Schwartz no longer has that clock that plays "Welcome to My World of Toys" all day, so the employees probably have more fun now. My sister Sarah, who is majoring in biology, bought an entire collection of stuffed giant microbes. (She said "Catch!" as she threw the common cold at us.) It was also nice just having Sarah's New Zealand friend Chris with us for another perspective.
And then there was the musical, Hairspray. About five years ago, influenced in part by my Baltimorean dad, I saw the John Waters film featuring Ricki Lake and Sonny Bono among others. Its rating of 6.7 on IMDb is about right. I found it only sporadically amusing, and I can barely remember it now. In fact, I can hardly remember there being an actor in drag (Divine) at all.
But there was no forgetting the one in this show. We were lucky: the two guys playing the Turnblad parents were doing their last performance before moving on. At the same time, they didn't quite steal the show. There were great lines and numbers all over. The costumes and sets were outrageous. The dancing was nifty too; I just don't normally pay it much attention. The ending is absurdly happy, but hey, Broadway's almost monopolized by wackiness now, right? And I forgive the lack of a Bawlamer accent, because enunciation can't be spared on stage. Now if only we'd gotten seats where the sound didn't get faint from time to time.
Oh yeah. In honor of the actor of Edna Turnblad going on to "Celebrity Fit Club," the writers bought the whole theater donuts. Just to compound my guilt, you know.
