I love this picture. My friend Laurel took it in Israel.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Memo
Subject: Urgent Request from Hordak
Date: Sunday, November 18, 2007, 8:45 PM
From: Hordak, Leader of the Horde, Planet Etheria, Fighters of She-Ra's Rebellion
To: All Horde subjects near and far
Re: Urgent Matter: Back-up Requested Immediately
This is your leader, Hordak, contacting you from the middle of a war with He-Man and urging you to send back-up immediately. We are out numbered and I have sustained heavy losses to my armor, my legs, and now, sadly, my pride (see picture for details).
Please send any bad guys from He-Man world or She-Ra's world that you have. This Friday would be a great time to bring them to help me and Mantenna fend off these rebel scum.
Yours in the Horde,
Hordak
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Tassajara 5
This cartoon depicts the historic attempt of 5 Zen monks who stayed behind to protect their Zen Monastery/Hot Springs, Tassajara, when Northern California's Basin Complex fire creeped into Carmel Valley and threatened to burn it to the ground.
As the fire encroached, the Monastery evacuated guests, then students, then most monks and when it became clear the fire was going to sweep through, the firemen and their trucks left.
My sister, who lived through it in Monterey, described the rescue to me...
"But 5 monks stayed behind, including the Abbot of San Francisco Zen Center (which operates Tassajara). Before the fire crews left, they coated the buildings in fireproof gel and wrapped them in special foil, as well as installing rooftop sprinklers on every building. The monks stayed at great personal risk to man the pumps and the hoses, and to watch over the zendo (temple).
Last week, the fire burned through Tassajara, and the five monks kept the monastery safe. They all survived without injury, and are now known as "The Tassajara Five". The zendo was saved and only a few outbuildings were lost. The fire approached from all 4 sides, and they kept watch night and day putting out spot fires. They were alone in the wilderness, but were able to keep in touch with the outside world via phone. Everyone here followed the story via a couple of blogs kept by monks who had evacuated and were keeping in touch with the Five.
The Monterey Herald headline the next day screamed in huge font "PRIESTS SURVIVE INFERNO!"
Anyway, it was all pretty incredible. Those zen monks, man. Intense."
TASSAJARA WEBSITE:
http://www.sfzc.org/tassajara/display.asp?catid=4&pageid=1237
Monday, July 28, 2008
Buffy, batton down the hatches!
This is the front edge of the severe thunderstorm system that reeked havoc throughout New York, New Jersey and PA yesterday afternoon.
I took this as I ran from my cozy spot on the Southampton Beach, moments before powerful wind gusts and torrential downpours forced us off the beach, back into our car, and onto flooded roads (and what was the eventual 4 hour drive back into the city).
I took this as I ran from my cozy spot on the Southampton Beach, moments before powerful wind gusts and torrential downpours forced us off the beach, back into our car, and onto flooded roads (and what was the eventual 4 hour drive back into the city).
If you look carefully along the horizon, you can see one place where the clouds meet the water: that was a water spout (a water tornado). As we ran back to the car, I saw several funnel clouds forming over the parking lot.
Below is a listing of reported conditions from this storm in Nassau/Suffolk Counties by the Coast Guard and other local weatherstations' website:
-FLASH FLOOD WARNINGS
-EST 60 MPH WIND AT MONTAUK HARBOR
-EXIT 43 ON THE LIE CLOSED, CARS STRANDED
-RESCUES AT MERITTS RD AND HEMPSTEAD TNPK
-NICKEL TO QUARTER SIZED HAIL
-IMPASSABLE FLOODING ON FLOYD ROAD
-TREES, FLAGPOLE, WIRES DOWN, WIDESPREAD POWER OUTAGES MONTAUK HWY AND WILLIAM FLOYD PARKWAY AREA
-POWER LINES DOWN MATTITUCK AVE AND BAYER RD
-PILOT REPORTED FUNNEL 2 MILES EAST OF FRG, REPUBLIC AIRPORT
-5 INJ LIGHTNING (from what I gather, INJ is a measurement or scale from 1 to 5 that rates the power and energy, via wavelengths, of a single stroke of lightning and this storm produced the strongest bolt)
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
A Wizard's Kiss
The following is New York Times video coverage of BAM's closing reception for The Royal Shakespeare Company's final performance of King Lear, starring Ian McKellan, which took place on Sunday, September 30th.
http://video.on.nytimes.com/?fr_story=fbcfb8ef87795f4e44b061f5adfffeed47bf0bc5
As the reception was drawing to a close around 8:45pm, a few remaining BAMmie stragglers (including myself, my colleague Jen and her boyfriend) were invited to continue celebrations at the King Lear after party. The location? Ian McKellan's rented loft in Chinatown.
Honestly, it took us a few minutes to decide whether or not we should go.
Mostly, it was, "We are total strangers to the cast. This is their last night in New York together, who are we to crash a party?" But, then, "Well, how can you turn down an invite to Ian McKellan's house?"
So, off we went.
I was scared, mostly nervous, because I didn't know anyone in the cast, let alone Ian.
Sir Ian.
Gandalf.
Within minutes, we were over the Manhattan Bridge, parking and found ourselves infront of the address. I pushed buzzer #6. We slipped onto the sleek elevator and in a moment, the doors slide open and we were in the loft (it was one of those apartments where the elevator opens into the apartment).
Jolly, mostly inebriated English actors were drinking and chatting and scarcely noticed us. Ian was in a purple tie-dyed shirt and was flitting around between the living room and kitchen. I was happy with this lack of attention, it helped us settle in. Within a few minutes, we were meeting a few other BAMmies who'd made their way there.
Soon, our conversation was drowned out by an iPod stereo blasting Aretha Franklin's "Chain of Fools." This seemed to be the magic cue, because everyone, Ian included, to get up and started dancing.
It was like a scene from a movie. A movie about a group of friends who are actors and have gone through so much strife and hardship and this is the closing montage that reflects how there were such good times, and even though life moves on, love lingers... It was incredible, but I realized in the next moment, this wasn't my group of friends. And, suddenly, I felt a little like an intruder.
I was glad to have said yes and come and experienced it. As I said good-bye to Jen and the gang, I passed Ian on the way out. I reached out and touched his arm, he turned his scraggly-bearded faced and wild mane, and I said, "Thank you for having me."
He considered me for a split second, then his grin spread across his face, and as it did, his eyes were forced to take cover from the folds of wrinkles, while he reached out his arms and leaned towards me. I went to kiss his left cheek, but he went left. I quickly recovered and went to kiss his right cheek, but he went right. So, we ended up in the middle and kissed right on the lips.
Time stood still for moment: I was tiny, had furry feet and was scurrying through a forest*. A white, wispy forest. There was a slight breeze. The ground was soft, mossy. The road goes ever on and on/Down from the door where it began/ Now far ahead the road has gone...
And the next moment, we were back in Chinatown, walking together, side-by-side, to the elevator lobby to wait quietly, politely for the elevator to come.
"Do you have far to go?"
"Queens. It's not so bad."
"Goodness... quite a walk from here. You are alone? You'll be okay?"
"I know my way around from here, thank you."
"Yes, it's a nice neighborhood. No one will bother you."
The door opened, I stepped in. He stood and waved at me until the door closed.
Let them a journey new begin/
But I at last with weary feet/
Will turn towards the lighted inn/
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.
And...scene.
*I know that Gandalf never kisses one of the Hobbit's in any of the stories. I was just acting!
http://video.on.nytimes.com/?fr_story=fbcfb8ef87795f4e44b061f5adfffeed47bf0bc5
As the reception was drawing to a close around 8:45pm, a few remaining BAMmie stragglers (including myself, my colleague Jen and her boyfriend) were invited to continue celebrations at the King Lear after party. The location? Ian McKellan's rented loft in Chinatown.
Honestly, it took us a few minutes to decide whether or not we should go.
Mostly, it was, "We are total strangers to the cast. This is their last night in New York together, who are we to crash a party?" But, then, "Well, how can you turn down an invite to Ian McKellan's house?"
So, off we went.
I was scared, mostly nervous, because I didn't know anyone in the cast, let alone Ian.
Sir Ian.
Gandalf.
Within minutes, we were over the Manhattan Bridge, parking and found ourselves infront of the address. I pushed buzzer #6. We slipped onto the sleek elevator and in a moment, the doors slide open and we were in the loft (it was one of those apartments where the elevator opens into the apartment).
Jolly, mostly inebriated English actors were drinking and chatting and scarcely noticed us. Ian was in a purple tie-dyed shirt and was flitting around between the living room and kitchen. I was happy with this lack of attention, it helped us settle in. Within a few minutes, we were meeting a few other BAMmies who'd made their way there.
Soon, our conversation was drowned out by an iPod stereo blasting Aretha Franklin's "Chain of Fools." This seemed to be the magic cue, because everyone, Ian included, to get up and started dancing.
It was like a scene from a movie. A movie about a group of friends who are actors and have gone through so much strife and hardship and this is the closing montage that reflects how there were such good times, and even though life moves on, love lingers... It was incredible, but I realized in the next moment, this wasn't my group of friends. And, suddenly, I felt a little like an intruder.
I was glad to have said yes and come and experienced it. As I said good-bye to Jen and the gang, I passed Ian on the way out. I reached out and touched his arm, he turned his scraggly-bearded faced and wild mane, and I said, "Thank you for having me."
He considered me for a split second, then his grin spread across his face, and as it did, his eyes were forced to take cover from the folds of wrinkles, while he reached out his arms and leaned towards me. I went to kiss his left cheek, but he went left. I quickly recovered and went to kiss his right cheek, but he went right. So, we ended up in the middle and kissed right on the lips.
Time stood still for moment: I was tiny, had furry feet and was scurrying through a forest*. A white, wispy forest. There was a slight breeze. The ground was soft, mossy. The road goes ever on and on/Down from the door where it began/ Now far ahead the road has gone...
And the next moment, we were back in Chinatown, walking together, side-by-side, to the elevator lobby to wait quietly, politely for the elevator to come.
"Do you have far to go?"
"Queens. It's not so bad."
"Goodness... quite a walk from here. You are alone? You'll be okay?"
"I know my way around from here, thank you."
"Yes, it's a nice neighborhood. No one will bother you."
The door opened, I stepped in. He stood and waved at me until the door closed.
Let them a journey new begin/
But I at last with weary feet/
Will turn towards the lighted inn/
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.
And...scene.
*I know that Gandalf never kisses one of the Hobbit's in any of the stories. I was just acting!
Thursday, August 16, 2007
R.I.P. Jay Z
February-August 15, 2007
We loved you (even though you killed Bubbles the Fish). We hope you live the pimp life in fishy heaven and you two H.O.V.A.s have fun up there. We'll miss you.
We loved you (even though you killed Bubbles the Fish). We hope you live the pimp life in fishy heaven and you two H.O.V.A.s have fun up there. We'll miss you.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
The Man, The Myth, The Gert
In May 2004, I returned for the third time to the Lake Placid Film Festival (in 2002 as volunteer, in 2003 as Volunteer Coordinator, and in 2004 as Event Coordinator). It was, as it had been the last two years, a mostly delightful experience, filled with great anecdotes (remind me to tell you the one about Debra Winger and the falling ceiling), quality flicks, and colorful characters.
Thanks to tremendous personal relationships with the Festival Founder and executive staff, well-known figures from the worlds of film, television, and literature made their way upstate to the sleepy Adirondack town for a premiere screening, panel discussion or to lead a Master Class. Off the top of my head, the impressive roster included Martin Scorsese ("Marty" was his clever internal codename), John Sayles, Kevin Bacon, Kyra Sedgwick, Tony Shaloub, James Tolkan, Guillermo del Toro, John Cameron Mitchell, Russell Banks, Frank Miller, Buck Henry, and many other famous directors, producers, graphic novelists, authors, critics, and industry gurus.
During a panel discussion in 2002, I was struck by a great idea: it'd be fun to have someone famous sign Dad's Father's Day card. Famous people were littering Main Street and Dad gets a kick out of celebs, so why not? The only flaw in the plan was that I really dislike approaching celebs for their autograph. But, it was for Dad and it'd be such a laugh, how could I resist?
The next day, I carefully selected my signer and finally settled on Tony Shaloub (Dad loves his part from "Galaxy Quest", "Never Give Up, Never Surrender!"). After a public forum on the merits of independent film, I trotted down to the stage, blank Father's Day card in tow, and made my pitch to Tony Shaloub. Not only was he was tickled, he wrote a funny quote from the movie. Dad was tickled, too (and I had suddenly raised the bar for Father's Day presents...).
In 2003, I lost my opportunity to have Ray Harryhausen sign Dad's Father's Day card because I was busy trying not to have another panic attack while operating the Volunteer Department.
By 2004, I tried to get my shit together enough to be able to devote time to hunt for a Father's Day card signer. It turns out, shopping for Dad is hard on all accounts. Just when I was about to give up on any possible talent, I found him: film actor and star of one of Dad's favorite films, "National Lampoon's Animal House," who was in town screening a film he directed, Mr. Peter Riegert.
"Perfect!" I thought.
But somehow, a moment alone with Mr. Riegert never presented itself and before I knew it, I was on the train home to New York. Determined not to miss my chance to "wow" Dad for the second year in a row, I got Peter Riegert's contact information from the Festival Executive Producer (who thought to idea was hilarious!) and called the number, which I assumed to be his manager or assistant.
"Hi! I'm not here right now, leave a message!" said what I swore must've been Peter Riegert's voice on the answering machine.
"That couldn't be his cell phone...could it?" I puzzled. I called again. It went straight to voice mail: Same message. I hung up again.
"My God," I realized, "I do have Peter Regiert's cell phone."
I took a deep breath, called a third time, and left a message that someone from the Lake Placid Film Festival wanted to speak with him. A week later, and a week closer to Father's Day, I got a message on my cell: it was from Peter Riegert! Apparently, we had just missed each other, but he was "around."
I called him back, but it went straight to voice mail. I patiently waited as another week rolled by. I was becoming desperate. I had to be more aggressive, I reasoned with myself. Why not just tell him why I'm calling? What's the harm in that? Tony Shaloub was great about it, I'm sure Peter Riegert, of all people, will be flattered to want to sign a card I'm offering to send in the mail to him. So, pumped with self-confidence, I called him back and this time, left a message that it was Meg from the Festival again and might it be possible to get him to sign a card for my Dad?
At the end of the week, I had heard nothing and realized I had probably made a mistake. I probably scared him off, I'm sure he gets a million of those phone calls a day. Who did I think I was?! Feeling frustrated and defeated, I realized it was mere days from Sunday, June 14th and I'd better find a replacement gift for Dad. On that Sunday, I relayed the story to Dad as the "second part" of his gift on Father's Day.
He laughed so hardily at my feeble attempts to reach Riegert, he said that was present enough! What a Dad. However, the back-and-forth phone calls Peter Riegert and I shared became an on going joke between my sisters and I.
And, like all great inside jokes, it gained momentum, depth, perspective, heart, passion, and absurdity. The joke bastardized itself into the idea that the inexplicable silence from Peter Riegert was due to the fact that he kept dialing the wrong number and in reality, he had been desperately trying to get a hold of me in order to send me copies of his autographed headshot. The attempts became more numerous and more desperate. Then, the idea grew into a desperate attempt to pitch himself into a movie he had written (a movie to end all movies). Today, in his universe, Peter Riegert is a successful businessman (as owner and operator of over 400 chainstores from Gert-o Bell, GertMart, Gertie's The Matress Professionals, etc.) and will not rest until his esteemed colleagues of the Academy will pay him his dues. Add to that a note of magic realism: regardless of who was sending an email or leaving a message, it's always Peter Riegert trying to reach himself and/or his manager (who is also himself).
The following is an email correspondence between P. Gert (his self-given nickname) and himself.
Friday, December 17, 2004. 7:57pm
dear peter riegert,
i can't talk on the phone at work. i sit in the middle of everyone else's cubicles! HOWEEVER, i can talk visa vee email. i hope my french doesn't startle you. my language skills have always been to my advantage. in terms of communication skills, that it.
so, i want to talk to you about the rewrites. first, brilliant concept about the puppy/evil clown subplot. i think the emotional burdens that Smacky faced while he was a child, tending farm at the hoof gelatin factory can really be fleshed out.
clone plot/possibility???
second, while i think the viking battle scene was an entertaining idea, i think elizabeth taylor was not the correct choice for the she-male lead. let's brainstorm. possibly liza. possibly laura bush.
and finally, i think the foul play story line in the vampire bunker can be improved by focusing on count frank's wants. character arc anyone???
let me know what you think. shoot me one back, i'll back my email again in 13 seconds.
yours,
peter riegert
Friday, December 17, 2004. 11:15pm
ahem.
now, mr. riegert, regarding your regards about the rewrites: love the vampires, but am deathly afraid of vampires. will have to nix it. unless liz taylor can fill in for us here??? i know you said 'no' to her, but she's an old family friend and want to utilize her fabulous wig in the stabbing scene.
and the dog that played 'airbud' is now available for screen tests and i think he would make a fabulous costar to Smacky the clown. the clown's friend, buster boo, has been unable to come back into the united states because of some legal matters in jakarta, so the dog is at the top of a short list of replacements. do you hear cash registers ringing?????????!!!?!?!?!?!?!?
i will be at my winter cottage this evening working on the manuscript for my one man show, "please please me, my longing heart can't wait any longer: the portrait of a great man: the peter riegert story," so you can buzz me by telephone. 555-1212.
talk to ya!
p. gert
555-1212
16 Life Goals
From a letter typed to myself on bright pink paper
Summer 2004
1) I will find a reasonable apartment with my own room in a neighborhood I like
2) I will find a full time job at a place I don't hate
3) I will continue to keep working those connections, networking
4) I will lower my expectations about everyday life/activities so that I can achieve those goals
5) I will set realistic goals for myself
6) I will go to LA for Halloween
7) I will not obsess about the silly shit
8) I, like the good Buddhist that is living within all of us, will let that silly shit go right through me
9) I will read cool books
10) I will continue taking improv classes because I love them
11) I will love myself and believe in myself and give thanks that I am where I am, that I have what I have, and that I know what I know
12) I will seize opportunities by the balls
13) I will create the balls of opportunity
14) I will remain active and positive and happy
15) I will always make sure to talk to Mom and Dad on Sundays
16) I will try to see Grandma when I am home...
Summer 2004
1) I will find a reasonable apartment with my own room in a neighborhood I like
2) I will find a full time job at a place I don't hate
3) I will continue to keep working those connections, networking
4) I will lower my expectations about everyday life/activities so that I can achieve those goals
5) I will set realistic goals for myself
6) I will go to LA for Halloween
7) I will not obsess about the silly shit
8) I, like the good Buddhist that is living within all of us, will let that silly shit go right through me
9) I will read cool books
10) I will continue taking improv classes because I love them
11) I will love myself and believe in myself and give thanks that I am where I am, that I have what I have, and that I know what I know
12) I will seize opportunities by the balls
13) I will create the balls of opportunity
14) I will remain active and positive and happy
15) I will always make sure to talk to Mom and Dad on Sundays
16) I will try to see Grandma when I am home...
12 Comedy Goals
My goals for improv, from an email to my Level 3 improv teacher.
Thursday, December 9, 2004
i need to...
1) find "the game"
2) use my environment to express my wants
3) initiate with a strong physical/emotional action/commitment
4) work on simple, but effective, actions (practice pantomime!)
5) show, don't tell
6) practice doing and action and not talking about it
7) not pontificate, instead stay in the moment (with reaction to environ/partner)
8) say "yes" and stay fully committed
9) sharpen my memory skills!
10) not say "dude" or "fuck"
11) play at the top of my intelligence
12) provide rich details (names, "gifts" of information, character work)
Thursday, December 9, 2004
i need to...
1) find "the game"
2) use my environment to express my wants
3) initiate with a strong physical/emotional action/commitment
4) work on simple, but effective, actions (practice pantomime!)
5) show, don't tell
6) practice doing and action and not talking about it
7) not pontificate, instead stay in the moment (with reaction to environ/partner)
8) say "yes" and stay fully committed
9) sharpen my memory skills!
10) not say "dude" or "fuck"
11) play at the top of my intelligence
12) provide rich details (names, "gifts" of information, character work)
Monday, August 6, 2007
Street Art
Dracula leers at Columbus Circle and Neville Longbottom leads the Potter Rebellion on the Queensbound N train platform.
MEMORY LANE #4: No sex in the city
An email to my best friend describing one of the first times I hung out with her friend (who is now my friend, too) Sarah.Thursday, July 15, 2004
We met Chris Noth last night at the Cutting Room! He is 50 years old! Sadly, he has a really big gut now, but he is somehow still hot. He was standing next to [Sarah and I] for at least an hour at the bar and we knew he was the one putting on all these great oldies and Beatles songs.
We figured since Mr. Big had really embraced his nickname, he would find it flattering to enter into a conversation with two lovely young ladies in their 20's.
So, Sarah finally takes the plunge, turns around and asks him, "Are all those great songs yours?"
He smiled and nodded, seemingly interested.
Then, thrilled about our success, I blurted out, "What other musical suprises do you have in store for us?"
He quietly sipped his drink and slowly backed away from us.
The two of us burst out laughing. Thanks for introducing us, it's so nice to have a great girlfriend in the city.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
MEMORY LANE #3: There once was a man from Jordan...
From an email to my buddy Aaron--a fellow MidWesterner and one of my aforementioned homies who I wish I saw on the regular--that typifies my life in the summer of 2004.
Wednesday, June 30, 2004, 11:54am
so, these days i seem to constantly be deflecting strange offers from strange men.
why, just the other day i was heading up on the pooch (the grey hound) to syracuse to see a girlfriend of mine graduate from grad school. while standing in line at the bus station, the port authority, a man approached me and started asking me questions.
"are you going to montreal?" asked the man.
"no," i said.
"are you going to toronto?" asked the man.
"no," i said again.
the man continues to stand next to me and stare at me.
"where are you going?" he inquired.
"syracuse. are you lost?" i replied.
"no, what is your name?" he asked.
"for fuck's sake," i think.
i decide not to answer. he continues...
"my name is sam. i am a dentist from jordan. you know where jordan is? i am going to toronto. you know where toronto is?" sam blithered.
so, now i am stuck in line and am forced to stand next to sam, who, infront of the entire line of people getting on the bus, is unsuccessfully hitting on me. finally, it's time to get on the bus. this dude leaves me and gets his bag, which he has skillfully left unattended in front of the line.
"thank god," i think, "he's getting on the bus before me, i will just not sit next to him."
but, when i get on the bus, he is standing at the door, waiting for me to get on.
"i will sit next to you, ok?" sam requested.
"what? i am tired and am not going to talk to you," i responded.
"that's fine, but i am interesting!" sam exclaimed.
we get on the bus. we sit down. i close my eyes and try to sleep. sam starts talking.
"i am very funny in my home country, jordan," sam announced.
silence.
half an hour passes and we finally get out of the city. he leans over to me.
"put your hand in my hand," sam urged.
"what?! why?" i demand.
"you have very nice teeth," sam commented.
"they are fake," i lied.
"fake? i don't care. we can be 'friends with advantages'," sam planned.
"'friends with benefits'? absolutely not," i quipped.
"put your hand in my hand," sam cooed.
silence.
occassional outbursts like this continued throughout the two hour trip, as the bus wound itself through upstate new york. it was a loooooong bus trip, i tell you what. anyway, i still don't know if sam finally got the message, even as i ran off the bus without saying a word.
Wednesday, June 30, 2004, 11:54am
so, these days i seem to constantly be deflecting strange offers from strange men.
why, just the other day i was heading up on the pooch (the grey hound) to syracuse to see a girlfriend of mine graduate from grad school. while standing in line at the bus station, the port authority, a man approached me and started asking me questions.
"are you going to montreal?" asked the man.
"no," i said.
"are you going to toronto?" asked the man.
"no," i said again.
the man continues to stand next to me and stare at me.
"where are you going?" he inquired.
"syracuse. are you lost?" i replied.
"no, what is your name?" he asked.
"for fuck's sake," i think.
i decide not to answer. he continues...
"my name is sam. i am a dentist from jordan. you know where jordan is? i am going to toronto. you know where toronto is?" sam blithered.
so, now i am stuck in line and am forced to stand next to sam, who, infront of the entire line of people getting on the bus, is unsuccessfully hitting on me. finally, it's time to get on the bus. this dude leaves me and gets his bag, which he has skillfully left unattended in front of the line.
"thank god," i think, "he's getting on the bus before me, i will just not sit next to him."
but, when i get on the bus, he is standing at the door, waiting for me to get on.
"i will sit next to you, ok?" sam requested.
"what? i am tired and am not going to talk to you," i responded.
"that's fine, but i am interesting!" sam exclaimed.
we get on the bus. we sit down. i close my eyes and try to sleep. sam starts talking.
"i am very funny in my home country, jordan," sam announced.
silence.
half an hour passes and we finally get out of the city. he leans over to me.
"put your hand in my hand," sam urged.
"what?! why?" i demand.
"you have very nice teeth," sam commented.
"they are fake," i lied.
"fake? i don't care. we can be 'friends with advantages'," sam planned.
"'friends with benefits'? absolutely not," i quipped.
"put your hand in my hand," sam cooed.
silence.
occassional outbursts like this continued throughout the two hour trip, as the bus wound itself through upstate new york. it was a loooooong bus trip, i tell you what. anyway, i still don't know if sam finally got the message, even as i ran off the bus without saying a word.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
MEMORY LANE #2: Much Ado About Nothing
Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets ofthe brain awe a man from the career of his humour?
No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would
die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.
-Benedick, Much Ado, Act II, Scene 3
In the summer of 2004, I worked as a part-time Box Office Treasurer at the Public Theater, New York’s largest Off-Broadway Theaters. During that time, they produced “Much Ado About Nothing,” starring Jimmy Smits, at Shakespeare in the Park, which played at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park.
I recall commenting that the show was “a gas.”
For the most part, the production ran smoothly. However, the occasional incident occurred. After every show, a Theater Manager Report was written, summing up the evening’s activity.
Here are two of those Reports that I smuggled out of the Box Office.
THEATER MANAGER REPORT, DELACORTE THEATER
Day: Thursday Date: June 24, 2004
Performance: Much Ado About Nothing
Curtain: 8:09p Final: 11:03p
Weather: Clear, 75 degrees, gentle breeze
We had some interesting incidents this evening. A woman patron, before the show, demanded to speak with the person in charge. [The] Theater Manager introduced himself. The woman emphatically demanded that we produce Hamlet in the Delacorte this summer. [Theater Manager] explained that it would not happen this summer, but offered to pass along her suggestion.
She demanded, “You mark my words, you will do Hamlet this summer!” She then offered a litany of famous people and politicians she was friendly with. She seemed rather “touched” and [Theater Manager] advised Security inside the house to keep and eye on her.
At this point, [Theater Manager] asked the Box Office to call Central Park police. With assistance from 2 security staff, [Theater Manager] was able to coax the woman out of the house.She screamed about Chinese people, Carnegie Hall and Nazis and spat the whole was out. Several other patrons watching the scene applauded [Theater Manager] and Security as they escorted her out. We then cancelled the call for police.
THEATER MANAGER REPORT, DELACORTE THEATER
Day: Monday Date: June 27, 2004
Performance: Much Ado About Nothing
Curtain: 8:05p Final: 11:01p
Weather: Breezy, dry and clean with a luscious breeze
The lady who spat and cursed at house staff, mentioned in an earlier report, returned tonight. She was barefoot and wanted entrance without a ticket. We told her no. She then headed to the Belvedere Castle (a quarter mile east of the theater in the Park). A few minutes later, a Hasidic man came down from the castle and told Security that the lady had approached him at the Castle, asked him to disrobe and began to disrobe herself. We called Central Park police and they sent a car.
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