Snarky, Self-Effacing Blog Title

Current mood: cynical

And I feel I must comment on this (as on anything) line by line. 

I remember when I enjoyed astrology; I would read books lauding my desirable qualities and smile with self-satisfaction.  I would read about my faults, delicately portrayed as harmless, loveable quirks (like having weak ankles, or being so smart that others might not understand me–who doesn’t like being misunderstood?) and smile with even deeper self-satisfaction.  And I would selectively chalk up any serious "faults" to my rising sign, which I knew nothing about whatsoever.

As I grow older, I guess I am more hesitant to believe in anything cosmic or mystical.  It’s a little depressing.  I think I was happier when I was a teen-ager, and a horoscope, a palmistry session, or a tarot reading could change my day, if not my life.  Now that I’m coming to think that this is really all there is–and it’s up to me, not some crystal godess to make the best of it–I feel disappointed.  And then I feel like having a drink, but that’s a whole different blog.  So here is my aquarian response to aquarius:

GENERAL FEATURES:
Air sign ruled by Saturn and Uranus.

Who’s anus? That’s just rude.  And I owned a Saturn once, but it didn’t exactly rule.

Aquarians are sincere, altruistic, free and active. Usually, they are quiet, but sometimes they can be extremely nervous or strained.

Okay, I take a little issue with this; I am HARDLY altruistic.

They ask a lot from other people, and when they are disappointed, they suffer and bear grudge against them.

If you’re talking about that bitch who bumped me in the subway and didn’t apologize, I don’t consider sending her a year’s supply of tripe each week a grudge.  Just fair turnabout.

Aquarians are vain, they love compliments and never leave anything to chance.

I hate compliments.  Seriously.  They make me itchy.  But I am vain.  figure that one out.

They are intuitive, fanciful and critical. They can be good and pleasing friends as well as passionate lovers.

Critical? Moi? I love everything.

They have lots of interests and creative ideas. Suited jobs: poet, astronomer, actor, pilot and smith.

Okay, smith I see.  I do like making things.  But pilot?  Would you trust me to fly your plane?  I thought not.

SEDUCING AQUARIAN MEN: Aquarian men are brilliant, free and active. They are easy to seduce, but it is difficult to maintain their love for a long time. You don’t have to part him from his friends and it is important to leave him free. He loves living in luxury, he likes what’s new and he can make his partner’s life brighter.
TIP: When you are with him, wear fashionable dresses!

Anyone who’s ever met my husband (who is also aquarian) knows that it’s difficult to dilute his love.  Seriously, once he loves you, you have to practically kill a baby to make him not love you.  In fact, all the aquarian men I know are like that. And I don’t think Adam would know the difference whether or not I bought my dress from Bebe or Conway.

SEDUCING AQUARIAN WOMEN: Aquarian women are nice, plain, curious and modern. They love culture and travelling. They are always ready to help other people and to keep up with novelties. Their ideal man is brilliant, tolerant and educated. Aquarian women are wonderful, but you shouldn’t restrain them within the house’s four walls. They are essentially free women.
TIP: Give her flowers she loves it!

Plain? PLAIN?  Screw you.  And flowers die too quickly.  Give me diamonds. 

Tuckaberry Productions is hosting a fantastic and amazing fundraiser at South Oxford’s Great Room 138 South Oxford Street, Brooklyn NY. Live entertainment, poker, libation, dancing, music, and prizes all await your attendance!! 7:30-10PM Visit http://www.tuckaberry.bravehost.com/fundraising.html for details.

Current mood: mellow

I suppose we’ve reached a time where, unless you’re ABBA, the only way a grand old dancy, production-numbery musical can be presented is as a farce.  Obvious examples that come to mind are Spamalot, The Producers, Urinetown, and even my beloved Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. (Wicked doesnt count as an old-style production.  That is a weak attempt at reviving the dark, brooding musical à la Phantom, Cats, or Les Misérables, which, thankfully, has gone the way of the Apple 2E.)  But as far as happy, colorful, entertaining, tap-dancing, skirt-swirling evenings at a Broadway show, The Drowsy Chaperone is no exception to the current trend.  A play within a play, the clever conceit allows us to enter a time gone by seen through the lens of a sweet and earnest lover of old-time Broadway.  It supposedly pays homage to pre-Oklahoma musicals, when plots were unnecessary and entertainment was the prize.  The closest actual musical I can call to mind that fits this description is Babes in Arms, an old show comprised of a series of songs strung haphazardly together around a totally bizarre storyline.  The difference is, Babes in Arms brought us songs like "Where or When", and "The Lady is a Tramp".  Chaperone brings us…um…yeah; I can’t even hum a few measures of that show I just saw.  The music itself was, while lively and fun, forgettable, which is a grievous error if one is going to be paying homage to Porter, Gershwin, Rogers, or Hart.

And (while I couldn’t find a good spot to put this complaint,) this bears mentioning: 2 hours is too long to run without an intermission.  Throughout the musical, the narrator keeps reminding us of the importance of preserving the moment.  Well, nothing breaks the spell like an insistently swollen bladder, let me tell you.

Regardless, I was entertained.  Countless slapstick moments, current and old-fashioned humor, incredible sparkling costumes and a (perhaps unnecessarily) impressive and complex moving set provide for an enjoyable two hours.  Sutton Foster dazzled me with her acrobatic dancing (I had no idea she was so tall and so limber!) But she didn’t wow me with her voice.  In fact, none of the singing was particularly impressive.  Beth Leavel sounded tired; Troy Britton Johnson was swoopy and rangeless.    As is appropriate to the time period that the musical is trying to emulate, Kecia Lewis-Evans, the one black actor in the show, is the most vocally skilled. 

The show itself is an anomaly in that it succeeds almost entirely because of the narrator.  Here is a man we have all met.  He’s invited us to his home and served us Earl Grey and cucumber sandwiches while playing Stephen Foster on the victrola.  He’ll never read this, of course, because he is as afraid of and mystified by the internet as he is by the prospect of actually coming to New York City to ever experience a real Broadway show.  So he’ll sit at home and listen to Pippin over and over again, brushing his damask silk drapes meticulously with a lambs wool mitt. 

Okay, maybe Im alone in that experience.  But, I was, in spite of its shortcomings, very affected by this musical and its leading man.  I can only wonder if the reason for the ending being so non-committal is because it took four people to write the show.  It even apologizes for itself, when the narrator claims "I know it’s not perfect."  Well, of course not.  Nothing ever is.  But I felt that it had some unrealized potential. You can’t easily honor a time and style while looking down your nose at it. Still, if I had not seen Light in the Piazza and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, I could easily say it was the best musical I had been to this year. 

So Adam and I have signed our names in blood and offered up our unborn children.

Well, we actually just signed the contract for and made a down payment on a one-bedroom co-op.  Hardly different.

Everything could still fall apart, but we’re selling off all our belongings, regardless.  Anyone want to buy a set of Noritake Adela china for 12?  It’s a lot of dishes.