Thursday, September 24, 2009
  All the World's a Stage

Once they were seated, the couple behind us at the theater had my attention. The man declared it had been ages since he had been to a matinee. Then he said " so this is what middle class white America does on a Wednesday afternoon." I wasn't eavesdropping. He was speaking in a stage whisper.

She, had a first name, which I will not disclose here. I doubt any of you will know her, and doubt even more that she might stumble upon this, but, stranger things have happened. It was a pretty common name anyway. He, was identified only by his initials.

Mr. Initials is a producer. I know this because they managed to use the words produce, producer , and producing about a gazillion times. I have no idea what he produces. I do know he is trying to obtain the rights to something, and, if he gets it there is someonr who will probably never speak to him again. But I don't know what or who. They were a little vague on the details.

The conversation segued quite naturally to the subject of Cuba. It turns out that Mr. Initials has been there , in the company of a very famous actor, whose name he did drop, Mr, Initials said that as guests of the State, they were treated very well. At night in Cuba however, the cockroaches come out. I think they were metaphorical cockroaches,

At intermission the house lights came up and Mr. Initials came on. He was soooo disappointed. Where , he questioned with great angst, was the sex? ( The play was Bye Bye Birdie). The actress in his opinion was asexual, and he was not turned on by her at all. ( The character is a 15 year old from Sweet Apple Ohio in the 50's, so, eeeewwwwww)( I realize that Ann Margaret played Kim in the movie, but still, eeewwwww). He also had uncomplimentary things to say about the costumes, the set design and the direction.

Then he went to the bar for a drink.

I enjoyed it. My middle class white American self thought it was a lovely way to pass a Wednesday afternoon.

I forgot to mention something in my previous post. While we all waited for the rescue engine to tow us to the station, I got to finish the book I had started on the train trip up. Just Seven Blocks from the Mexican Border was written by blogger Paul Nichols. I enjoyed that too.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009
  You know,

it's not that I haven't wanted to blog. Or that I haven't tried. There are several half written posts tucked away in a folder somewhere. Time has just not been on my side lately. All good intentions dissolve by the time I get to sit for a few minutes with my laptop. My brand new laptop, which you would already have heard about if I ever had time to tell you .
Take today for instance. A lovely day in New York City. We went to the Tkts booth and scored half price tickets to Bye Bye Birdie. Row 8 center stage. They were great seats for watching John Stamos & Gina Gershon portray Rose & Albert. Before we saw the show, Sarcasdad suggested a ride through Central Park. We opted for a bicycle rickshaw tour so we could stop and frolic by the friends fountain , and walk through Strawberry Fields. So , a ride through Central Park, lunch, fun broadway show, and to boot, we caught the early express train from Penn Station to Trenton. We would be home in time to see DWTS, and in plenty of time to blog.
That was the plan right up until the train broke down. First it kind of slowed down. Then it stopped. After a while I thought it was getting a little warm in the train car. Eventually someone made an announcement. The train had no power and no one was sure why. We sat, in a closed non-air conditioned space and waited. Since I had a window seat, I saw the flash that went with the bang. Another announcement:
"This train will not be continuing under it's own power. We will have to wait for a rescue engine"
I don't know about anyone else, but my mental picture was of a train engine pulling up with Diego sitting astride it saying "hola amigos". And if it wasn't so hot that might have kept me amused. But it was hot. The weather in these parts was unseasonably warm today. And New Jersey Transit said they were not permitted to open the doors. Whoever made that decision should be shut up in a non- moving train with no air conditioning for the same hour and a half we were. Oh, and from the window I could see uniformed train employees on the tracks. I don't know that they were off of our train. But I certainly didn't see any of them on the train either.
And that's what made me angry. Not that the train broke. I am sure the NJT employees on the train had places to go and people to see as well. But at no time did any of them appear in our car, which was at almost 100% capacity, to see if everyone was okay. Where was that zippy conductor guy that popped in and out collecting fares when the train was fully functional ? There were only a few announcements made, and I don't remember any of them containing any words of apology.
The rescue engine arrived, to applause from the captive audience and pulled us all the way to Trenton. No Diego though. Pity. That may have made sweating profusely with strangers worth it.
As one passenger said, they need a better plan for this occurrence. Yeah they do. Like maybe keeping some water on board.
You know?

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