It stayed intact for about 2 minutes (an eternity for a 5 year old) before we began eating it.
No comments on Christmas Gingerbread House
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Started with a salad dressed with truffle oil, continuing with duck shepard’s pie and scrambled eggs in puff pastry. Oh, and Bloody Marys.
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At the TKTS discount ticket booth:
“How do the seats for How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying look?”
“Two seats, back two rows, left. Eh.”
“What about On a Clear Day You Can See Forever?”
“Obstructed view. Wouldn’t take them.”
“Memphis?”
“Only one seat left.”
“Rock of Ages?”
“One seat.”We looked at each other. “We’ll take the two seats to How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying.” Rachel made a comment about being too close to the stage; I interpreted the dealer’s comment as being at the rear of the theatre. We looked at the tickets. She was right. Row B. When we took our seats, I thought, “Wow. We’re close. Really close. Six feet from the stage close.” Close enough that when the actors came on stage, we could see their mic wiring. And how much they sweated. And, once or twice, could make eye contact.
The story was campy. A throwback to 1960’s corporate culture. A story where a window washer follows the advice of a book (How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying) and climbs up the corporate ladder, getting both the girl and the corner office. A time when men hired secretaries on the basis on their looks, nepotism was the norm, and a woman’s ensemble included gloves and a matching pillbox hat.
It took me but just a moment to get past the fact that Harry Potter was the main character. Okay, not Harry Potter, but Daniel Radcliffe, best known as the actor who plays Harry Potter in the movie series. The songs had me seat dancing and singing along. And laughing. Where else but on Broadway do you get a full-blown number about the psychological benefits of the coffee break? Or reasons why your secretary is not a toy? Or dreams of waiting for your future husband, the successful businessman, and having the opportunity to keep his meal warm?
After the final curtain call and standing ovation, Daniel Radcliffe and John Larroquette appeared on stage, announcing cast members would be taking donations for the non-profit Broadway Cares after the show. “I’m auctioning this bow tie (he took his bow tie off), with the results going to Broadway Cares. Who would like to start the bidding?” The first bidder bid $50 and the bids quickly escalated into the hundreds. And then the thousands. Radcliffe threw in a back stage meeting with the himself and Larroquette. The price rose several hundreds of dollars. The final bid was $3,500. Radcliffe paused. “Would anyone match that bid, for the bow tie that I wore during the first act?” Silence. Then a woman’s voice from the fourth row clearly offered, “Thirty five hundred dollars.” Two bow ties, five minutes, seven thousand dollars for charity.
Rachel and I looked at each other. Best night ever at the theater.
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…with a slice of NY pizza and a beer. Awesome way to end an awesome day.
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After a full day of sightseeing, we’re enjoying afternoon tea at The Plaza. Delectable treats, warm tea, and delightful company.
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Hot dogs for breakfast? Yes, please!
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Rachel with our sign, watching the Today Show be filmed!
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I love traveling. I love exploring new places. I love seeing new sights.
When a friend recently asked me if I would like to go to NY with her for an “all tourist, all the time” weekend, I didn’t even have to think. Why, yes, I would love to.
We talked about things we wanted to do for the weekend. When I looked at the list, I realized it was aggressive. Would we really be able to do all the things we wanted to? Had we over planned? This, I realized, was a job for a spreadsheet.
I created a Google docs spreadsheet. I created one hour time slots for the three days that we’re in NY. I tentatively filled in what we wanted to do, places to see, restaurants to eat at, museums to peruse.
And we’ve been slotting, and rearranging, and making reservations since. I don’t really believe we’ll stick to our schedule. It is ambitious, after all. However, I am beyond excited for our trip. No matter what happens, we are going to have a good time.
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Joan Didion is my favorite author. The first book of hers I read was The Year of Magical Thinking. I literally devoured it. I was so enjoying every page, I found myself skimming, reading fast, aching to learn what happened next. After the first reading, I was spent. It was so raw, so real, I had to rest before picking it up a second time and reading it slowly, enjoying the language, appreciating the grammar. Everything that a slow read allows you to enjoy.
It’s a recount of her life the first year after her husband, Gregory Dunne, died. And it’s still my favorite book. It’s a real account of marriage, loving someone, and the joys and pains that comes with that love. It’s a book about the grieving process, and struggling to survive after losing someone. It’s a book that I pick up over and over again because reading it makes me feel alive.
I was hesitant to read other books of hers. I’ve had experiences where I love a book an author has written and go into a phase where I read as many pieces of literature that they’ve written. And I’ve been disappointed. Tremendously disappointed. Nothing lives up to that first great book. I was hesitant to read other works Ms. Didion wrote. A friend lent me A Book of Common Prayer and I seriously debated whether to read it or not. I did, and I was flooded with the same reverence for the incredible writing that I had when reading The Year of Magical Thinking.
And I’ve read more. Each time I see one of her books at a friend’s house I ask to borrow it. I read it, then buy the book for myself.
Five months ago, a dear friend asked me to reserve Nov 15 on my calendar. I couldn’t imagine what we would be doing. We never make plans five months in advance. Then she told me. Joan Didion was speaking in San Francisco and she bought us tickets. I don’t think I’ve ever received such a thoughtful gift. I marked my calendar and waited.
Part of me feared that something would happen to mar the evening. Speakers cancel engagements all the time. Joan Didion is mature. What if something happened to her? I pushed the evening to the back of my mind. I wouldn’t allow myself to get excited for fear of disappointment.
And then the date was here. I was giddy. I really was going to see Joan Didion. I was going to hear the voice behind my favorite works of art. What would she be like? Would I love her as much in person as in writing?
Yes, I would.
I did.
I hung on to every word of the conversation between her and the interviewer. Many of the stories were from books she had written, so I knew the ending. But to hear her tell the story. To hear her, in her frail voice, pausing between words, sometimes stuttering, to hear her tell her story – was a gift beyond my expectations.
She told of growing up in the Sacramento valley. Of going to school in Berkeley. Of learning to use a computer, learning DOS, and marveling at how logical DOS was compared to her life. Of entering an essay contest, the prize of which was a job at Vogue. Of winning that contest and working at Vogue. Of the personnel manager at Vogue who used to set up a table outside of her office in the morning with small cups filled with barbiturates for the ladies of the office. Of buying her first computer, with a Windows operating system, what she named a Fake Apple. Of arriving at the Royal Hawaiian hotel and having them set up a computer and printer for her and magical days of writing with her husband Gregory Dunne while the tropical rains fell outside the window.
And then the conversation was over. I was happy. I was the complete opposite of disappointed. I was thrilled I had the opportunity to hear her in person.
And then they announced she would be signing books in the lobby. I was shocked. I had assumed she would be tired. The line was long. I looked at Emily. Was she willing to wait in line? (I had brought my copy of The Year of Magical Thinking, just in case.) She was.
We waited in the line that wrapped through the building, and it moved quickly. Before I knew it, I was there, in front of Ms. Didion. She had my books with a post it of my name. She looked at me and smiled. I stammered. “I, I, I, you were awesome tonight. I loved hearing you. You’re one of… no, no, you ARE my favorite author.” My hands were shaking as I said this. I felt like a 12-year old girl, not sure what to say to the boy she has a crush on. She looked at me again. “Thanks,” she said drily as she handed me my books. Lesson learned. Practice what you’re going to say to famous people before you actually meet them. Or, just enjoy the moment.
LoriLoo 