Someone in a Tree

Chinese Takeout

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 03:12:00 +0000

I've been living in my apartment since mid-March but last night I finally availed myself of a local take-out joint. I'd had a full day at the office followed by a rehearsal for a community theater show and at 10pm still hadn't had dinner. I had no energy to cook so I decided on the subway ride home to drop in to the Chinese place that was right by the station exit.

I had popped in once before, actually, but like many small businesses in my 'hood, they were cash only and the previous time all I had was plastic. But last night I had some cash on me so in I went. The place was your typical hole in the wall pick-up joint. Tiny waiting space and only one table and two chairs really meant only for folks to wait for their food and not to actually dine in. Neon sign in the window and generic photos of dishes on the wall above the order window.

There were a few other locals inside, when I entered, waiting for their food and I did a quick scan of the menu and placed my order. As I stood there, I watched as the two employees bustled about tossing things in and out of pans and deep-fry baskets. While I waited, one man's order was completed and as the cook came up to the window with the food, he popped the tops of each container and the customer nodded his assent as to the accuracy of the completed order. Maybe I've not traveled enough in my Chinese take-out experience, but I've never seen that done before. But perhaps it was a smart policy, though, because as the cook popped the last container lid, the customer barked that he had ordered yellow rice, no onions, for that dish, not white rice. There was a brief discussion and the cook assented, noting however that this would be an extra fifty cents, which the customer then handed over and the cook went back to fix the dish.

Meanwhile, another customer got his order and noted that it had included an iced tea. The cook questioned if the customer had paid for both, which he insisted he had. The cook handed over the food and the customer left. The first man then received his food and left. A young woman entered and ordered fried rice and forked over a few bucks, then went to sit and wait.

It suddenly dawned on me that all these customers had pre-paid for their food, yet I had not. I had not even been asked for money or quoted a price. For a moment I puzzled over the situation until it became quite clear as to the reason behind the discrepancy.

It was because I was white.

At this point I began to feel a bit uncomfortable, as if somehow someone else would catch on to this racial favoritism and I might become the subject of grudging stares and mutterings. But no one noticed. My food arrived and I got out my wallet. I was quoted $4.50 and in a burst of possibly self-serving magnanimity, I told the cook to keep the change. I felt an odd mixture of pride and revulsion at my action, which quite possibly helped reinforce the stereotyped behavior I had witnessed and been so discomfited by.

The home I went in my shirt and tie, yet another in the slowly trickling but growing stream of white faces moving into a sea of darker hues.

Follies: A Review

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 21:46:00 +0000

I was a lucky SOB and scored a preview performance ticket to the current revival of Follies that is playing at the Marriot Marquis Theater on Broadway.

For those of you who don't know, Follies is one of those shows within the musical theater world that is so fraught with expectation, dogma and preconceived notions that mounting a production is not something for the faint of heart. I did not see the original and legendary production from the 70's, which many hold up as the holy grail of versions, but I saw the much reviled Roundabout revival and enjoyed it. Obviously I'm not a purist so bear that in mind.

The current revival stars Bernadette Peters and Jan Maxwell as Sally and Phyllis, two former Follies showgirls and best friends whose lives took very different turns. Opposite them are Danny Burstein and Ron Raines as their husbands, Buddy and Ben, who were also their young beaus all those years ago and also former best friends. They meet up at a party thrown by the old Follies impresario, Dimitri Weismann (David Sabin) on the eve that the old theater that used to house their show is about to be torn down. Also in attendance at the party, held at the now-rundown theater, are a bevy of aging chorus girls, singers and dancers who reminisce about the old days.

Swirling around these older folks are the memories, or ghosts, of their younger selves who observe and sometimes re-enact events from the past, be they song and dance numbers or moments of betrayal. Old romances are rekindled and old wounds are laid bare.

Follies is a challenging show because it places at its core four people who are not particularly likeable. They are jaded and bitter and dissatisfied. The supreme challenge is to make the audience care about these people without diluting their essential unhappiness. The other trick is not to have the various side characters, who are much more entertaining, pull the focus from the central, if depressing, central plot. Overall I will say that the production succeeds.

Bernadette Peters is the marquee name here and she does a beautiful job of muting her star power enough to make Sally the wan and depressing person she should be while providing enough radiance to show glimmers of the girl that once was. Her flashes of false bravado don't conceal the atrophied heart she lugs around with her and her rendition of "Losing My Mind" is exquisitely controlled and heartbreaking.

But the real powerhouse of the production is Jan Maxwell, a Broadway veteran who has finally been getting her due over the past few years. Her Phyllis is brutally cool, while concealing a fiery heart that longs to be appreciated, and her lacerating "Leave You" left both her and the audience shaking. She is wonderfully matched by Ron Raines as her profoundly unhappy husband Ben. His gorgeous tenor was well served in his signature numbers including a poignant "The Road You Didn't Take."

Rounding out the foursome is Danny Burstein as Buddy, Sally's long-suffering if deeply flawed husband. Burstein invests Buddy with a quirky charm that is offset by a barely muted fury at the compromises he has made in his life. He does a smashing job with "Buddy's Blues" and has a great chemistry with Peters.

Outstanding performances are also provided by Terri White as a brassy and boisterous Stella Deems ("Whose That Woman"), Jayne Houdyshell as a dowdy but loveable Hattie Walker ("Broadway Baby"), and the diva-licious Elaine Page as Carlotta Campion, whose tackling of the iconic "I'm Still Here" was gorgeous and harrowing.

I was more than satisfied by the production values, which are often the sticking point for many with long memories. This may not have been as lavish as the original, but I was quite pleased by the costumes by Gregg Barnes, including the towering outfits of the shadow chorus girls. The moody and atmospheric lighting by Natasha Katz is also gorgeous and Derek McLane's set design extended out into the house, where drapings of shroud-like fabric add a sense of neglect and abandonment.

Last but not least, major kudos go to director Eric Schaeffer who has managed to tame a contentious beast of a theater piece and turn its disparate elements into a moving and coherent whole. He keeps the pacing brisk when it needs to be while allowing for the poignant and elegiac moments to be savored. The large cast comes together well as a whole and aside from a few stylistic quibbles here and there, I was captivated. This is a lovely and lovingly crafted production that I definitely recommend.

Where Do I Begin?

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Wed, 07 Sep 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Since the last truly informative post I wrote was back in April, I feel I need to get you all back up to speed on what has happened since then.

The now-not-so-new apartment continues to be great (and I still owe the blogging world some photos) and is fully furnished and decorated. And aside from the horrific VUBOQ incident, I have had no trouble of any kind involving myself or any of my visitors.

The job is good although it routinely kicks my ass, but in a good way. It's nice to be challenged and to consistently be forced to bring my "A" game to the office. It is certainly making me a better development professional. Our department has grown from three to six people since I started and two of them are guys (though I'm still the only gay in the village), so it's not an all-girls club like is often the case in these departments. Overall, my co-workers are fun to work with so we have a good time, especially when the boss is away from her desk.

My oldest nephew graduated from high school in May, which was both wonderful and a bit of a kick in the head. I don't ever do the cliched "how did I get to be such-an-such-an-age" palaver, but how - HOW - did he ever get to be 18 years old? Astonishing. Still, he made all of us quite proud as he was the class salutatorian (some other student beat him out for valedictorian by one AP course point, as they both had straight A's) and he also won a number of academic and athletic scholarships and awards (he's a terrific tennis player, in addition to being a brain, and also lettered in soccer and basketball). He has already started at American University in DC where he is studying International Law.

The summer was (how sad that I have to use the past tense for this) mostly uneventful. The major event was a family health crisis that knocked me sideways for a bit. My wonderful sister had been feeling "off" for several months. After some really unforgiveable missteps by her family doctor, it was finally determined that she has Hodgkins disease (a form a cancer of the lymph system). She is doing well and the prognosis is good and she is already halfway through her treatment, but getting the news was a stunner. As my parents age, I've been preparing myself mentally for trouble down the road, but never did I anticipate something like this with my sister. Of course, the odd thing is that I myself am a veteran of lymph system cancer, so the fact that it would strike my sister as well as me is weird. And since my dad survived prostate cancer and my mom beat cancer of the uterus, now we're a complete set! I'm hoping we've topped out on family cancer, at least for the time being. Peh peh peh (I'm spitting through my fingers as I write this).

Our annual family vacation was also knocked off kilter by my sister's illness. Dad had booked a week in Provincetown for all six of us, but with my sister just starting treatment, neither she nor the boys were up to coming, so it was just me and my parents. We got in an amazing whale watch, took in some shows, a nature walk, some tennis (Dad still has it at 82), and sailed on a tall ship. I even snuck in a night at one of the boy bars. We had a lovely time with great weather, but it was not the same.

I did get a few other beach days in near the end of the summer, one day at Sandy Hook and one weekend in Fire Island, so that made me happy and let me work on my tan a bit. I saw a few movies, saw some plays and musicals, and logged some Netflix views. Oh, and there was a hurricane and an earthquake. Meh.

That's pretty much the whole shebang. So now, you're all caught up and we can move forward together in real time. Be back soon.

SIAT 3.0

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 01:33:00 +0000

I had a lot of time to think over this "hurricane" weekend. Not that I actually thought a lot, but the time was certainly there for me to use if I had felt so inclined. I actually napped a lot. And posted on Facebook and watched Netflix.

But I did think about things for a minute portion of the weekend and in doing so realized that I wanted to get this blog going again. More for myself than for any other reason. Sure, some of you have expressed that you enjoy reading my posts and I enjoyed the give and take with you readers, but I also missed the creative writing aspect of this format.

There have been numerous times that I've had ideas for posts, but time and energy had been my excuses for not following through. I no longer choose to use those excuses and have vowed to force myself to "make" the time to write something down at least two-three times each week, just to dust the cobwebs off my creative mind and keep my thoughts from stagnating or festering.

Another thing that previous readers might want to know is that I have decided to only post text along with related images here. That means no more Tent Pitch on the SIAT site. Since posts on this blog automatically show up as notes on Facebook, I didn't like the idea of those posts going out to everyone in my feed. People should have a choice if they want that kind of "entertainment."

As a result, I have created a new blog solely for the tent pitches and you can check it out here. For tent pitch fans, you'll be happy to know that this blog will be updated daily, since I have a huge stockpile of images I want to burn through.

It's been a while since I've been an active blogger so things may be a bit rough at first, but hopefully I will get back in the groove quickly and we both can have more fun together on this page. Be back soon.

Weekly Tent Pitch - Can I get an "Amen" edition

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Thu, 26 May 2011 02:51:00 +0000

On the subway ride home tonight, we were treated to a duo from the group I like to call The Ministry of Hate. These are African-American evangelicals who quote from the Bible and then extrapolate from it how it tell about the evils of White folks against Black folks.

They were at it for a while when suddenly this woman, also African-American, began to shout them down, telling them "Black and White is old school. It's about the rich and the poor now. Don't be preaching hate!" She was furious that her daughter was having to hear all this propaganda.

She was awesome. When the train got to my stop, I walked over to her, tipped my hat and shook her hand. She was very busy still shouting down the men, who were clearly rattled and furious at her, but she took my hand anyway.

Sister, this tent pitch is for you.

Rapture To-Do List

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Tue, 17 May 2011 22:32:00 +0000

Hey all, did you hear that the world's ending on Saturday at 6PM?

Yes, the End Times have finally arrived. Yet again. A nice lady on the subway this morning was just remarking about this, over and over and over again. It got me thinking that I really haven't planned out my Saturday to properly take into account any impact that devastating earthquakes and vanishing fellow residents might have.

So as a public service, I am offering some suggested activities for Saturday for anyone who hasn't already sold all their wordly goods and quit their job.

Rise and shine! You don't want to waste a minute of this precious last day of civilization. But since it is the weekend, there's no need to get up at the ass-crack of dawn. I usually crawl out of bed around 9 am. Feel free to linger as late as 10, but no later. Sloth is a deadly sin and if you have any hopes for ascension, you don't want to screw it up because you hit the snooze but a few too many times.

Make time for breakfast. You know your best day starts with breakfast, even if that day might be your last one on earth!

Keep fit. I'm planning on going to my regular late morning yoga class. It's probably a good idea to stay limber and agile so you can properly dodge falling debris later in the day.

Use those coupons! Once the true believers have ascended to heaven, the rioting and looting that ensues will probably result in the complete destruction of all commercial enterprises. Unless you plan to save those Bed Bath and Beyond mailers for use as tinder for your campfire (after the national grid collapses) you'll probably want to get those pillow shams now.

Freshen the litter box. Assuming you've stocked up on rations so two weeks from now you won't be eyeing Snowflake or Buttons as a potential entree, you'll want to forestall the need to haul in fresh clay for the cats to do their business in for as long as possible, or at least until the sound of gunfire dies down.

Call your mother. What, you need a reason? Shame on you.

Hit the grocery store. See the aformentioned note regarding pets as menu items. Also, when that hot neighbor three doors down comes by begging for sustenance, a bag of Lime Chile Doritos is probably good for at least a blow job, if not their complete subjugation as your sex slave.

Make a liquor store run. Not only will a fruity Chardonnay be relaxing after a long day of errands, but empty bottles can serve as useful weapons in a pinch.

Make sure you know the location of your Ready Kit and that you've checked that all supplies are stocked and re-freshed. What, you didn't make one after 9/11? Then I guess the terrorists have already won. Oh, wait...

Weekly Tent Pitch

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Thu, 05 May 2011 23:06:00 +0000

Hey there. Since it is obvious I can't even keep to a simple schedule with postings, I've decided that the Tent Pitch will show up whenever it shows up, as long as I can post once a week. That makes it more of a surprise, right? Right?

I had a nice mini-trip to DC this past weekend, where I visited with VUBOQ (who abandoned me on Saturday night to go see some Aussie chick perform a concert or something). Even with that betrayal, I had a pleasant weekend. Despite almost missing my bus to DC on Friday, I arrived on time and met up with the BOQ and some of his friends for a happy hour. Mmmmm, fried green beans and draft beer! Then we headed over to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. Mmmmm, cheese enchiladas and margaritas! Then we went back to Chez BOQ and watched old Charlie's Angels episodes. Mmmmmaybe not next time.

Saturday was yard work day at Chez BOQ but he had a guest pass for me at the local Washington Sports Club so I got my gym on while he labored in the yard. Then we had lunch at Adega (Mmmmm, blackened tuna wrap) and met up with his super cute new fella. We walked back to Chez BOQ and watched a Netflix vid I hadn't gotten around to seeing for two weeks (Burn After Reading, Mmmmm Clooney and Pitt) and that I had brought down with me in the hopes of finally watching it. Success!

It was at this point that the abandonment took place. Off VUBOQ went to the concert. Fortunately, on Friday a friend of his had invited me to a game night, so I headed over and met some nice new folks. Later in the evening I met up with another DC friend for some drinks at Nellies. The bar was packed with lesbians dressed as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Seriously. I have no idea. Good times.

Sunday we caught the bus back to NYC so VUBOQ could testify against the bastages that had mugged him when he came to visit me back in April (oh the shame). All in all, a pleasant weekend.

But enough about me. Go look at sexy guys now.

The Normal Heart - A Review

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Thu, 28 Apr 2011 04:52:00 +0000

There were several ways I considered approaching writing this review. One idea was to simply to write the word "exceptional" over and over again. Other words that came to mind were "shattering," "moving" and, sadly, "timely."

However it is probably best to handle this in a traditional format.

Larry Kramer's The Normal Heart, which opened last night on Broadway...wait a minute, let's put this in perspective. The Normal Heart, a play that has become an irreplaceable piece of not just gay theatrical canon but of theatrical canon in general, had its Broadway opening last night a full twenty years after it was first produced off-Broadway. It has taken that long for this brutally honest yet achingly heartfelt play to finally make its way to the Great White Way.

Putting aside a discussion of the reasons behind this long delay, let me just say that it is about damn time. And how wonderful that this long awaited debut is in a production as solid and transcendent as the one now playing at the Golden Theatre. Uniformly the cast is magnificent, and considering that they had, I think, only two weeks of rehearsal to pull this all together, it is a miracle that the end result is as top-notch as it is. Employing the cliche "a labor of love" may not be out of place here.

Kudos first and foremost must go the directing team of Joel Grey and George C. Wolfe who have gathered this ensemble and woven them, along with a spare yet powerfully effective production design, into the theatrical equivalent of an arrow, no a laser beam, to the heart. The action is perfectly paced and the directors have drawn standout performances from the entire cast.

That cast is led by Joe Mantello making a rare foray back to the stage after an extremely successful career as a stage director including such hits as Wicked and Take Me Out. His portrayal of the prickly and ostensibly unlikable Ned Weeks (the stand-in character for Larry Kramer himself) is brilliantly nuanced, allowing for the humanity to shine through a part that could easily descend into shrillness and hyperbole. Mantello's Ned both revels in and recoils from his inability to control his rage and terror as the plague of AIDS erupts through his circle of friends and the larger gay community. You never lose sight of the human trying to find solid ground as it is repeatedly yanked out from under him.

As Ned's lover Felix Turner, John Benjamin Hickey is heart-breaking as he first battles to create love and a life with Ned and then battles to simply hold onto his dignity as the plague threatens to swallow him up. Astonishingly making her Broadway debut, Ellen Barkin expertly balances the humor, anger and frustration of Dr. Emma Brookner, the physician shouting vainly into the wind about the advancing devastation that has begun to overwhelm her as her case load multiplies daily. Her near-breakdown late in the second act practically stops the show. It would be unfair to reduce the performance of Lee Pace (Pushing Daisies) as Bruce Niles, the closeted co-chair of the gay advocacy group that Ned founds, to "he is stunning" but damn it if he isn't all that and a bag of chips. But he is also brilliant in his portrayal of Bruce's stubborn resistance to bringing both himself and the organization into the glare of publicity, which contrasts magnificently with a deeply vulnerable monologue he gives in the second act.

But wait, there's more. The delightful Patrick Breen provides a deeply multi-faceted performance as the conflicted Mickey Marcus, a fellow activist who's identity is so tied to the concept of free love that the idea of promoting sexual responsibility is almost as terrifying to him as the threat of AIDS. Jim Parson (The Big Bang Theory) is both moving and endearing as Tommy Boatwright, another activist who is equal parts Southern Belle, fierce bitch and peacemaker. He sparkles in his scenes and his comic timing is pitch-perfect, making his sudden forays into poignancy all that more moving. Mark Harelik as Ben Weeks, Ned's straight brother, is also excellent and you will have to forgive me because I am running out of superlatives. Luke McFarlance (Brothers and Sisters), Richard Topol and Wayne Alan Wilcox also shine in multiple roles. No really, they are wonderful and funny and moving and all that good stuff, too.

David Rockwell's austere white box set and David Weiner's spare and sharp lighting design compliment each other perfectly to create a sense of claustrophobic menace. They are enhanced by Batwin + Robin Productions projection design that provides several chilling stage tableaus. Martin Pakledinaz's simple and accurate costumes take us expertly back to those dark days of 1980's New York and David Van Tieghem's original music and sound design adds a haunting aural mood to complete the piece.

Needless to say, this is not a production to miss. Even if you have seen this play before, you have not seen it before on Broadway with this cast in this setting. More so this story remains vital because the story it tells still has no ending. As the flyers (authored by Mr. Kramer himself) that volunteers passed out to audience members as they exited the theater note, the tragic history of the AIDS plague continues to unfold in neglect by the government, self-interest by the pharmaceutical industry, and ineffectiveness by prevention and education efforts. With at least 75 million infected and 35 million dead, The Normal Heart tells a story that is as fresh and powerful as it was twenty years ago.

Born Yesterday - A review

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Mon, 25 Apr 2011 11:00:00 +0000

Certain plays, no matter when they were written, if properly presented can withstand the test of time. While written of and for a certain time, they contain basic themes that continue to resonate. Remount these works with a cast and crew of talented and focused individuals and the end result will transcend the period trappings that surround the piece.

How fortunate, then, that the classic comedy Born Yesterday by Garson Kanin, originally produced on Broadway in 1946, has been given such a stellar treatment at the Cort Theatre on West 48th Street. Directed by Dough Hughes and starring Robert Sean Leonard, Jim Belushi and rising star Nina Arianda, the work shakes off any dust and shines like a family heirloom proudly passed down to the next generation.

Let me briefly turn things over to Wikipedia for a clear and concise summary of the plot: "An uncouth, corrupt tycoon, Harry Brock, brings his showgirl mistress Billie Dawn with him to Washington, D.C. When Billie's ignorance becomes a liability to Brock's business dealings, he hires a journalist, Paul Verrall, to educate his girlfriend. In the process of learning, Billie Dawn realizes how corrupt her boyfriend is and begins interfering with his plans to bribe a Congressman into passing legislation that would allow Brock's business to make more money." Yup, that's it in a nutshell.

What this production allows to shine through is the timeless story of what happens when someone, whether through ignorance or lack of opportunity, becomes enlightened and begins to see the world more clearly and, more importantly, how they themselves can make a difference. The move from apathy and lack of concern to awareness and action can be profound. And when it is dressed smartly in a comic setting, the end result is both powerful and immensely entertaining.

Mr. Hughes guides his talented cast with precision to draw out excellent performances from all involved. At the center of the action is Ms. Arianda as Billie Dawn. The blond bombshell with a heart of gold can be a tiresome stereotype and an actress runs the risk of making her two-dimensional in her incarnations of "before" and "after." What Ms. Arianda does wonderfully is show the calculations going on in the mind of Billie as she travels from blissful and willful ignorance to mercenary inquiry and finally to altruistic accountability. In the process she also demonstrates brilliant comic timing, a moving emotional journey and a luminous stage presence.

Ably complimenting her are her two competing male co-stars. Robert Sean Leonard has always been an authentic and charming stage performer and he doesn't disappoint here. His Paul Verrall is pure-hearted without being dull, pedantic or too pure. He has moments of moral hesitation and his carefully crafted facade of journalistic impartiality occasionally wilts under attack from both feminine wiles and macho bluster. He also has to shoulder the few moments of heavy-handed speechifying that live in the script, but he does so with a light enough touch that they don't land with too heavy a thud.

The real pleasant surprise here is Jim Belushi, better known as a broad comic performer from the sitcom television world. His Harry Brock is all loud mouth and bulk as he attempts to bulldoze himself what he wants when he wants it. Belushi certainly has no trouble achieving a high volume performance, but if that was all he contributed, such a portrayal would wear thin and tedious. What he is able to convey in moments of nuance are the flickers of uncertainty and neediness that trouble Harry and threaten his ruthless drive for profit and control. He also adds nice flashes of remorse to a few of his outbursts when he fears he may have overstepped himself, or worse, failed to achieve the proper affect of intimidation.

Even better, these three are supported by such marvelous stage vets as Frank Wood as the well-oiled lawyer Ed Devery, Michael McGrath as Harry's put-upon brother Eddie, Terry Beaver as the Senator-for-sale Norval Hedges, Patricia Hodges as his tightly wound wife Mrs. Hedges, and Jennifer Regan as Helena the wry but sympathetic hotel maid. The cast is rounded out with solid performances by Fred Arsenault, Danny Rutigliano, Bill Christ, Andrew Weems and Liv Rooth as various hotel employees.

The action all unfolds in a delightfully grand and gaudy hotel suite designed by John Lee Beatty with excellent period costumes by Catherine Zuber and effective lighting design by Peter Kaczorowski as well as sound design and original music by David Van Tieghem.

All in all, Born Yesterday is a delightful, hilarious and heartfelt production with excellent performances across the board. While an accurate portrait of a certain time and place, it also resonates well with the contemporary world we live in. And be sure not to miss a star turn by a rising star.

Unleavened Tent Pitch

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Wed, 20 Apr 2011 11:45:00 +0000

I just finished hosting my first seder ever and it went really well. Nine friends joined me in my new apartment and we had a great time. I also have a ton of leftovers that should take care of lunch at the office for the rest of the holiday (which ends Tuesday night.)

Anyway, I know I won't have any time tomorrow to post, as I'm seeing theater every night for the rest of the week: Born Yesterday on Wednesday, The Normal Heart on Thursday and MacBeth on Friday. Yay!

So here is the tent pitch for the week, which will be posting tomorrow morning (or this morning by the time you read this.) Even though during Passover those who are observant don't eat any leavened bread, perhaps something might rise while you are looking at these pictures.

Oh Dear

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 22:08:00 +0000

While I am not complaining that it is Friday...OMFG it's already Friday and I didn't post once this week!

What the hell did I do all week? I know I worked all week, but my workday ends before 6PM. Let's see. Monday I went to the gym after work, then came home by 8:30, re-heated some leftover pasta and drank some wine while I sifted through emails. Oh right, my sister called and we chatted for a while and caught up, which was nice. Then I went to bed.

Tuesday was similar and involved watching Memento on NetFlix (Yes, I had never seen it, among thousands of other movies you "can't believe I've never seen yet" so just relax.),You Tube viewing of Jake Gyllenhaal appearing on Sesame Street (to die for) and then bed.

Wednesday I had an after-hours work event I had to attend and then I dashed downtown to a meeting at my synagogue so I didn't get home until late and just had a glass of wine and passed out.

Thursday I met a friend for dinner and again did not get home until late. No glass of wine this time.

So here we are at Friday. How about that? I've basically dashed this off as I was finishing up at the office and then I'm heading off to the gym and then to a pot-luck Shabbat dinner at a friend's apartment.

The weekend is busy. Saturday I have a late morning yoga class, then I'm catching the matinee performance of Arcadia on Broadway, then meeting my parents for dinner and then going with them to catch the closing performance of the Blue Hill Troupe's production of HMS Pinafore.

Sunday is brunch with a friend and then the rest of the day is dedicated to grocery shopping and cooking in preparation for Passover, which starts Monday night. I am hosting my first seder ever at my new apartment on Tuesday night (so excited!) and since I'm not taking any time off from work, I need to do a lot of the cooking in advance.

Sorry I missed the tent pitch this week. I will try and pre-post one for next week over the weekend to be on the safe side. Mwah!

Wednesday Tent-Pitch

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Thu, 07 Apr 2011 03:13:00 +0000

Jeez, one day back and I'm already almost behind schedule.

A co-worker gave me a last minute ticket to see a production of Macbeth by Cheek By Jowl at the Brooklyn Academy of Music so I only just got home about 20 minutes ago.

So here it is, the inaugural tent pitch of 2011.

Remember Me?

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Wed, 06 Apr 2011 02:09:00 +0000

Hello.

Now that things have quieted down a bit, I am tentatively dipping my toe back in what is surely now a totally obsolete form of internet expression, which kind of suits me fine. Yes, I am back and I will be posting on and off again. Don't expect any posts on the weekend and probably no more than two or three during the week. But can expect the Wednesday Tent Pitch to make a return. Tomorrow, as a matter of fact.

I'm not sure whether I should try and re-cap what has gone on since I last posted, or just start things up in real time and allude to past events as they come up. We'll see. I had this ambitious plan that I would take the next several posts and summarize a month at a time until things got caught up but I'm not sure if I'm actually up to that as it will take effort on my part.

But in general:

I've been at the new job for almost a year now. It is good, although it is a lot of work and a lot of pressure. But the pay is good and the people are good, so I should just count my blessings here.

Yoga went by the wayside sometime around December, when I stopped teaching, but in the last two months I've gotten back into it and my body is quite grateful. The gym, of course, never really stopped, so that front has held, at least.

In mid-March I moved out of the tiny apartment in the two-story house in Bensonhurst and into a roomy one-bedroom in a proper apartment building and I love it to pieces. I will post some pictures (for those who haven't already seen them on Facebook) shortly. I'm in Bed-Stuy now and in addition to the better digs, the commute is better and just getting around the city is easier all around.

As for the cats, they love the new place, too, and have taken full control of the premises. Lisa continues to slowly emerge from her shell. Bart is the same as ever. Oh, and in a sign of true and total trust, they have both let me give them a bath when they've gotten rather soiled from a Josh encounter gone wrong.

Speaking of Josh, well, we are no longer formally together. We decided near the end of last year that we were really more friends than a couple, and so that is how things are now. When I moved out, Josh found a roommate situation and is now an official NYC resident! He is also, totally coincidentally, a 20 minute walk from my place, so we are neighbors and I'm sure I will have over for dinners and movie nights as we go forward. All good.

My folks are fine, healthy and spry as they enjoy their retirement years. My sister is also doing well and my oldest nephew is going to COLLEGE IN THE FALL AND HOW THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN? He has been accepted at several good schools and now he just has to choose where. I will be heading down for his graduation in May. I will probably bring a packet of Kleenex, you know, in case my non-existent allergies act up.

In general, I decided sometime in December that 2011 would be the year of doing only things that truly made me happy. Hence I have discarded a lot of my previous commitments and, consequently I have lots of free weeknights - a brand new world for me. And I'm enjoying it. Netflix! Who knew?

I guess that is enough for now. If you are still out there, give me a holler and I look forward to entertaining you as we all stumble forward. Hugs and kisses.

How To....Succeeds

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Mon, 28 Mar 2011 22:27:00 +0000

Resisting any and all temptation to invoke metaphors that involve magic or sorcery, I will simply say that the new revival of How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying starring Daniel Radcliffe (of Harry Potter fame, for those who live under a rock), is pure, blissful entertainment from start to finish.

Radcliffe, who made his Broadway debut in Equus in 2008, is back on the boards again. Although this time, instead of playing a terribly disturbed young man in a mental institution, he now plays a terribly ambitious man in a corporate institution. And he sings! And dances! He is joined by veteran television actor John Larroquette and a cast brimming with talent and enthusiasm in a candy-colored production that nearly blows the roof off the Al Hirschfeld Theater on 46th Street.

Confession: I did not see the original 1961 production (I'm not THAT old, thankyouverymuch) nor did I see the revival with Matthew Broderick in 1995. I did appear in a pretty darn good high school production in 1983, however. But that's neither here nor there.

The current revival could be accused of trying to coast on the wattage of stars like Radcliffe and Larroquette were it not for the fact that Radcliffe charms the audiences right out of their seats. Not only is he giving 110% of himself on the stage, he appears to be having the time of his life as J. Pierpont Finch, the ambitious corporate ladder climber hell-bent on the American Dream. Larroquette is equally charming and garrulous as the corporation head, J.B. Biggley. Together, with the help of a ridiculously talented ensemble, the pair of them provided at least two show-stopping numbers the night I attended.

But these marquee names are not all that is grand about this production. As Finch's love interest, Rosemary, Rose Hemingway is all sweetness with just a hint of tang, and a glorious soprano and subtle conniving nature of her own that matches her well with her scheming paramour. As Finch's nemesis, the weasily Bud Frump, Christopher Hanke is delightfully mean-spirited and sulky. Shall I go on? Mary Faber as Rosemary's gal pal Smitty is playfully acerbic, Ellen Harvey as Biggley's secretary Miss Jones is gloriously intimidating, Tammy Blanchard as Biggley's mistress Hedy La Rue is the perfect synthesis of ditzy and vampish, Rob Bartlett shines in two contrasting roles as Twimble and Wally Whomper, and Michael Park is pitch-perfect as the spineless "yes" man Bratt.

Did I say how fantastic the ensemble is? Yes I did. But let me say it again. The ensemble is fantastic, not just because they sing and dance up a storm, but because they have all been guided in creating specific characters for themselves which allow them to be much more than human wallpaper. Yes, Radcliffe and Larroquette lead show-stopping numbers, but they are powered by this terrific ensemble.

But let's return briefly to Mr. Radcliffe. I'll be frank and say that he does not have the voice of, say, Cheyenne Jackson. But he sings convincingly and confidently and, as far as dancing goes, the kid works his ass off and makes it look natural. Particularly in the "Brotherhood of Man" finale, he stays front and center and hoofs it with the rest of the cast like he was born to do it. I was blown away. Hats off to director and choreographer Rob Ashford who has forged this company into a force of nature that put a smile on my face from start to finish.

The production design was also brilliant. The multi-tiered set by Derek McLane evoked not just the mod 60's of the time period, but also the corporate beehive that houses these mindless drones. Lighting by Howell Binkley worked seemlessly with the set and also provided punches of humor. The costumes by Catherine Zuber neatly laid out the corporate hierarchy. Sound design by Jon Weston was well balanced and also provided one of the evenings many delights: Anderson Cooper as the voice of the "book."

There is not much else to say other than that I, who often sigh resignedly when I hear about yet another revival coming to Broadway, was thoroughly enchanted by this production. Daniel Radcliffe, welcome back to Broadway. I hope you stay for a good long time.

LOGO Looking for HIV+ Athletes

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Thu, 14 Oct 2010 16:44:00 +0000

LOGO is looking to find healthy, active & charismatic HIV+ male athletes to star in an upcoming PSA series to coincide with World AIDS Day.

Click on the image below to see all the details. Feel free to pass this on or re-post.

A Little Night Music: A Theatre Review

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Mon, 11 Oct 2010 02:03:00 +0000

OMG is he back? While for a moment at least.

I recently had the pleasure to attend a performance of the current revival of Stephen (can we just canonize him and be done with it?) Sondheim's musical A Little Night Music, performing at the Walter Kerr Theater. The production originally opened starring Catherine Zeta-Jones along with Angela Lansbury. These two leading ladies have left the production and their roles are now being assayed by Broadway veterans Bernadette Peters and Elaine Stritch, respectively.

I did not see the production with original cast of Zeta-Jones and Lansbury, so I cannot compare the current incarnation to the previous, and perhaps that is for the best as I would have hated to have that little comparative voice whispering in my head throughout the performance and spoiling my fun.

Let me be up front and say that I love A Little Night Music in and of itself, and there is much in this current production that sustains and bouys my love for this Sondheim gem, not the least being the performances of Peters and Stritch. They are joined by a strong cast, some who were in the original cast and others who were brought in, or more delightfully, were promoted from smaller roles (something I always approve of).

Bernadette (if I may be so bold as to refer to her as such) is a warm and strong presence in the role of Desirée Armfeldt, the aging actress beginning to feel the inroads of regret from choices made and chances missed. She is in turn comic and poignant, and consistently in the right balance of each throughout the performance. She lends her signature Bernadette-ness to the proceedings and melds them seamlessly into her performance. Her much touted rendition of "Send in the Clowns" shakes the dust off of this potential cliché and gives it heart-bruising clarity.

As her imperious and aged mother, Madame Armfeldt, Elaine Stritch basically holds the audience captive every moment she is on stage. I heard an audience member mutter "she has all the best lines," but he failed to realize that her character does not. Stritch merely takes every moment and effortlessly spins it into gold. Even the occasional line flub was transformed into a master class on comic acting genius. In addition, her performance of "Liaisons" is a revelation. Stritch was never a song-bird to begin with and time has only added to her signature rasp, so instead of trying to pretty up the number, she transforms it into almost a spoken-word performance that while disregarding any pretense at melody or meter is none-the-less mesmerizing.

Bernadette's romantic foil is Frederik Egerman, played delightfully by Stephen R. Buntrock (promoted from the smaller role of Mr. Lindquist). He has a rich baritone and excellent comic timing and matches Ms. Peters wonderfully throughout the performance. Continuing on in the role of Anne Egerman, Frederik's child bride, is Ramona Mallory who provides an inspired comic performance, and a gorgeous soprano, as a constantly nervous young woman ill-at-ease in her new position as the female head of household and a wife expected to fulfill certain matrimonial duties.

Hunter Ryan Herdlicka contines as Henrik Egerman, Frederik's bookish son who is studying for the ministry and is secretly enamored of his father's young bride. Herdlicka is charmingly insecure and has delightful comic timing, although I wish he were surer of the top notes in his musical numbers. The Egerman household is completed by Petra, the servant girl who is saucily played by Leigh Ann Larkin. Larkin admirably walks the fine line of making Petra a sexy and ribald character without making her into a whore or a sexual clown. She also gives us a rendition of Petra's signature "The Miller's Son," in show-stopping style.

Providing both comic and poignant counterpoint to the proceedings are the Count and Countess Malcolm. Bradley Dean (promoted from the small role of Frid) is an excellent Carl-Magnus, full of bluster and ego, a gorgeous baritone, and a torso that illicited not a few admirable murmers from audience members when he briefly doffs his shirt in Act Two. Erin Davie is impeccable as Charlotte, Carl-Magnus' long-suffering wife. Charlotte is one of my favorite roles in the show and Davie does not disappoint, providing razor-sharp comic timing as well as a radiant poignancy late in the show.

Back at the Armfeldt family manse, we also have Desirée's daughter, Frederika, played charmingly by Keaton Whittaker at the performance I attended (the role is shared between Whittaker and Katherine McNamara). The role of Frid, Madame Armfeldt's servant, is competently played by Ron Bohmer.

The cast is completed by the five liebeslieders, who serve as something of a Greek chorus throughout the production, as well as background roles as servants, actors, guests and townfolk. Mr. Lindquist (Ben Davis), Mrs. Nordstrom (Jayne Paterson), Mrs. Anderssen (Jessica Grové), Mr. Erlandson (Kevin David Thomas), and Mrs. Segstrom (Gina Lamparella) all sing the music expertly and provide some charming comic moments of their own, but I was frustrated by the production's use of them. I feel it is important to make a clear distinction of where these five exist in the life of the play and I felt that line was muddied to an extent by the direction. But this is a minor quibble.

Overall, I was quite pleased with Trevor Nunn's direction. He created a warm and lively production that never seemed cramped or awkward on the relatively small Walter Kerr stage and he finds moments to be innovative while never jarring. The set design by David Farley uses simple turntable walls to effectively create the well-appointed Egerman, Malcolm and Armfeldt homes and the rich costumes, also designed by Farley, beautifully complement the actors. Hartley T.A. Kemp's lighting and Dan Moses Schreier and Gareth Owens sound design complete the picture creating a lovely ambiance and mood throughout the changing locals of the production.

If you are a Sondheim fan, this a definite must-see production, and if you are new to Sondheim, this is an excellent production to wet your feet with, as it is one of his most accessible. I highly recommend this and urge you to see it with Peters and Stritch doing what they do best in a production that allows them, and the entire cast, to shine. I left smiling.

What's Going On

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Tue, 17 Aug 2010 21:29:00 +0000

Hi.

So, not much has been happening here lately.

It's not like nothing is going on in my life, it's just that these days, a lot of the time I don't seem to have any impetus to write about things. And if I do, then I don't have time or access to a computer.

I know I could easily pop out a tent pitch, but the idea of just having those posts sitting on my blog without the benefit of other clever or literary posts bracketing them doesn't appeal to me.

So without formally declaring it, I guess I realize that I've gone on a blogging hiatus. I don't know how long this will last and, if I choose to start up again, whether anyone will come back to read.

But for now, it will probably get sort of quiet here. I truly appreciate all you folks that have stuck with this blog through its ups and downs and various content warning firewalls. Hopefully whenever I make it back here, you'll come back for another ride, too.

Hugs.

One Year

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Thu, 12 Aug 2010 15:46:00 +0000

One year ago today, I met a guy for dinner. We had never met in person before, but we had talked on the phone and emailed a lot. We had stumbled across each other through the blog of a mutual friend/acquaintance (his/mine) and after a bit of back and forth finally decided to meet.

He was much younger than me and I was somewhat amused at the prospect of going on a date, even a casual one, with someone from an age group that I had never considered would have any interest in someone like me.

But I figured I had nothing to lose and at the very least it would be an interesting anthropological experience.

The date was chronicled, sort of, here.

We had a good time but even so, I could not, in my wildest dreams, imagine that anything would come of it.

Well, don't I feel silly now.

There have been ups and downs, successes and sorrows, and we've had our share of bumps along the road to...well I still have no idea exactly where we are heading. But despite my best efforts at being insensitive, stubborn, pedantic, smothering and impatient, ~~I haven't been able to shake him~~ he has stuck around.

I don't kid myself to think that a year means anything more than twelve consecutive months, but every day remains a new adventure and I am more than happy to continue to see where it leads.

Oh, and I now know more about Katy Perry, Ke$ha, P!nk, Kelly Clarkson, Miley Cyrus, Aaliyah and sundry other popular music performers than I could ever have imagined I would. And that has to count for something. Right?

Sink Trap

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 22:02:00 +0000

It's Friday and I want to wrap up the vacation re-caps, so this post is in three parts: Mystery House, Viaduct, and Prospecting for Trout.

MYSTERY HOUSE

Near to where we were staying was a local attraction called The Mystery House that purported to be a structure where the laws of physics were defied! It was also at the same location as an Indian Artifact museum and a museum of Appalachia. We figured an hour there would be an hour well spent.

Yeah, about that.

Our first clue that this excursion was going to be underwhelming was when we walked into the Indian Artifact museum. It should have been more appropriately named the Gazillion Arrowhead and Stock Movie Image museum. Seriously, three rooms of nothing but stone arrowheads collected from around the region and placed into mounted frames, with about 20 arrowheads per frame after frame after frame. These were peppered with the occasion black and white photo still from some movie that featured stereotypical Indians, many of whom were clearly not even Native American, just white actors in Indian drag. It was embarrasing.

The Appalachian museum was not much better. A few rooms with vintage crap tossed about, none of it labeled and all from various different decades. Oooh, look! An old Quaker Oats cardboard container! Call the Smithsonian!

The Mystery House itself was basically a goofy tourist trap. The central feature was a room built to accomodate and camouflage a floor set on a 45 degree angle. The affect would have been more complete if you couldn't see into the room and observe how clearly on an angle it was. But once inside, the perspective did fuck with your head a bit though while the college student/tour guide tried to wow us with the ball that "rolled" up hill and the water that "flowed" upstream, it just seemed silly. We did get some cool photos out of it, though.

The rest of the place was loaded with lots of 7th grade level science tricks, like the ball that "magically" floats on a jet of air, some basic optical illusions and the like. There was a fun activity room, though, where you could make huge bubbles that you could encase someone in:

At least we had fun mocking it all.

VIADUCT

Later in the week we checked out the Linn Cove Viaduct, apparently an engineering marvel, but we were all somewhat underwhelmed by it. However we did get a nice hike and some good photos out of it.

We also had the opportunity to perform rectal exams on rodents.

PROSPECTING FOR TROUT

On our last full day of vacation we were able to combine two things that various folks wanted to do: fishing and gem mining, as one location had both on their premises. So we popped over to Grandfather Trout Farm/Grandfather Gem Mine and let loose.

The nephews tried their hand at fishing. You would think fishing a farmed pond would be like, well, shooting fish in a barrel. Not so much. We'd been fishing on past vacations and never fared so dismally as we did this time around. Aside from Matt snagging an ailing fish with a catch net,

we never hooked a single fish the whole time. So instead I caught a few photo ops.

Meanwhile, Mom was busy looking for treasure by panning gravel for gemstones.

Surprisingly, she made out pretty well.

She ended up scoring some amethysts and emeralds, which she paid to have made into jewelry by the staffers there (which is where this place really made its money). She should be getting them sometime in August. Hopefully they will come out nicely.

There were various other bits and pieces of the trip, which I outlined in Monday's post, and you can see all the photos from the entire trip here.

This weekend promises to be a bonanza of blog post potential as Craig will be hosting a Puntabu-pool party over the weekend. Josh, Enrico, Steven and I will be driving up together on Saturday and lots of other blogger folk will be there, too. I will give you a full report next week. Have a great weekend!

Proud Mary

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 23:42:00 +0000

A blogger friend wrote me recently to tell me how he appreciated my posts detailing my family vacation adventures because, among other things, they help discredit the myth that gay men are averse to the outdoors.

Today's post will particularly contribute to this brand of myth-busting, as this epic (which I learned from the Illiad lecture series CD merely means "long" as opposed to any implications of greatness or quality) is about our adventures white-water rafting.

My parents had decided to take Wednesday as their trip to the Biltmore mansion and grounds in Asheville, NC. That left my sister, me and the nephews free to try our hand at a rafting adventure. I'd been canoing and sailing and rowboating and tubing and kayaking, but I'd never formally rafted on rapids before. Sis and the boys had experience, however, so I felt reassured that they were moderately experienced and were not leading me into some kind of life-threatening escapade. While they like to try fun things, they are not daredevils by any stretch of the imagination, so I felt doubly reassured.

We made a reservation with River and Earth Adventures, as they had a brochure at the front desk of the time-share resort. After an hour-long winding drive on local roads, we arrived on time - just - for our 3PM rafting excursion. Good thing we arrived on time because we then stood around waiting for the next 45 minutes as the staff finished the paperwork, got our life vests, packed up and processed the folks who'd finished the morning excursion and loaded up the van with our rafrts and paddles. People thought I got my sunburn from rafting the river for three hours, but it was from the 45 minutes standing in the blazing sun before we ever got in the water.

The drive upriver to the launch point was mercifully short because our two boatloads of passengers (totalling 11 souls) was packed into one un-air-conditioned van. Ugh. We were given brief safety instructions (basically "don't be a jackass") and divided into two boats. Our family was in one and another family, consisting of a mom, dad, and three young kids, was packed into the other. My prayers to a God that many dispute exists were answered when we were assigned Andy as our guide instead of Kathy.

Reasons that Andy was the superior river guide:
1. Since he used to be in the army, I could make silent jokes to myself about Cap'n Andy.

2. While it wasn't her real name, I named the other guide Kathy because of her loquacious character. Which would have driven me crazy.

3. Andy seemed like the more much seasoned pro.
4. OK, he was kinda rugged lookin', knowhutimean.

Now, in addition to paddles for the raft (and btw it was a large professional inflatable raft like this:

not some flimsy wooden joke like this:

we were also given large water-shooter-type things. To, you know, shoot water at each other. For fun. Or so I hear. One of the reasons I love my family is that the immediate consensus of our group to the prospect of using water guns was "oh hell no!"

It was abundantly clear, however, that the other family, or at least the three little hellions, was enamored of these water guns, as they started shooting each other before they even got in the water. With barely a word shared among us, we made a point of keeping a healthy distance between our boat and that crew for the entire three-hour ride. They could shoot each other into watery oblivion but we were having no part of it. We did have fun, though, in toying with them. Every now and then we'd let them get close enough to try (and miss) and then we'd power our boat away from them again. Suckahs.

The rapids themselves were not too crazy. They are categorized from one to five, with five being the most dangerous. Our river's rapids never got above a low-level three, so that was just perfect. A little splashing and some tossing and pitching, but never any real threat of capsizing or someone being hurled out into the rocks.

Speaking of rocks, however, early on in the ride our attention was directed to a low cliff that we were nearing and the offer was made for any interested parties to climb up to that cliff and jump off into the river. When there were no immediate takers I figured "what the hell" and said I would. I mean our boat couldn't totally wuss out, especially because we knew the punks on the other boat were sure to jump.

Having belayed 70 feet from a tree in Costa Rica and jumped from some pool cliffs in Hawaii, I knew I could probably handle this without a) embarrassing myself or b) maiming and/or killing myself. The only real issue at hand was that the water in the river was freaking ice-cold.

I've swum in the Atlantic Ocean in May, which is pretty damn cold, but the water in this river is dam-regulated, which means that it is stored in a resevoir that keeps the water extremely cold. This isn't run-off from a mountain that slowly warms as it flows downstream. Just from standing in the water to initially get the raft in the river when we first arrived, my feet had gone numb.

But undaunted, I waited as Cap'n Andy guided us up to the side of the cliff and showed me where I could climb up. Using small tree branches and rock outcroppings I climbed up to the top and stepped out to the farthest edge of the ledge. Jumping only really makes me nervous if there is any threat that I might miss the water and hit a lower ledge. Here that was not an issue, so after getting the high-sign from Andy and reminding myself that nephews rarely let you live it down if you climb back down in abject fear, I counted to three in my head and launched myself into the air of what was later confirmed to be a 15 foot drop.

Making sure to pitch my voice as low as possible, I hollered as I fell and splashed into THE coldest water I can recall experiencing. Thanks to the life-vest I bobbed up like a cork in about three seconds and began swimming like a mutha-forker back to the raft. Andy grabbed my vest at the shoulders, hauled me into the raft and the feeling slowly returned to my extremities.

Good times.

Having earned my props for the remainder of the day, if not the entire vacation, I was quite relaxed for the remainder of the journey. The ride down the river was quite picturesque and the weather was pleasant. We sailed through warm and cold pockets of air because of the varying topography of the mountains that surrounded us. Lots of wildlife was on display with ducks and geese and cranes and eagles, and Andy was a very informative guide, peppering our ride with various facts and anecdotes that kept things entertaining.

Just before 6PM, we arrived where we initially had parked and got out and hauled our raft back onto the land. I have sat in metal chairs and wooden benches for extended periods of time but my ass has never been as sore as it was from sitting on the inflatable PVC raft. Damn.

We changed into our dry clothes, thanked and tipped Andy, collected an action photo that was taken of us during our ride down the rapids (Sis has it and if I get an electronic copy I will post it at some point) and headed off to Abington, VA for the cultural part of our evening (Sis and I were seeing a musical and the boys would catch a movie).

While I don't have that fabulous picture, I do have a photo of our intrepid group just as we were preparing to embark on our adventure.

Four passengers set sail that day for a three-hour tour.

Wednesday Tent Pitch

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 03:14:00 +0000

Dragging myself halfway through the post-vacation work week here. Not that work is all that crazy or bad, it's just that the week is going so sloooooooow.

But as a break from the vacation re-cap posts, here is your weekly dose of maleness. Tomorrow we'll be back to more adventures in the 28607.

Grandfather Mountain

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 03:00:00 +0000

One of our more enjoyable adventures last week was a trip to Grandfather Mountain, which is along the Blue Ridge Parkway.

We headed over after lunch on a beautiful sunny Tuesday. It was pretty close to where we were staying so the drive there was mercifully short. Near the parking area were bird feeders that had attracted some hummingbirds.

Our first official stop was the small museum, which had displays of wildlife and the geological history of the site. Some of the flora and fauna was quite intriguing.

Yes, I am still in the third grade, as a matter of fact.

I met someone and I gave him my number, but with the understanding that we would just be friends. Besides, his kids were a bit much.

We then went to the wildlife enclosures and saw otters, bears, and cougars. We also saw some animals.

Then we headed up to the top of the mountain where they had a suspension bridge that was a mile high.

It was rather windy and the bridge was "singing" - its spans were humming from the high winds - which was pretty cool. I struck a noble pose on an outcropping.

There were some great views to be had from the high vantage point.

We got some group shots as well.

Then on the way back down we stopped at a formation called split rock. I and the nephews climbed to the top and then I did a little grandstanding on the way back down.

It was an active and fun afternoon. Then we headed home and had dinner at a Thai restaurant in town. I had a papaya salad and Penang salmon and a frosty mug of local beer. I tried to save room for a bubble tea but no dice. Then we walked around and window shopped for a while and I found I had enough room for some ice cream that we got at a local independent ice cream parlor. Just vanilla with some crushed Reeses peanut butter cup in it, but we all agreed it was the best we ended up having the whole week.

Full photo set for the day is here.

Vacation Summary

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 10:40:00 +0000

Here is the overview of what my family did on our vacation this past week. More detailed adventures will follow throughout the week.

Saturday:

We left New Jersey at 8AM and arrived in Boone, NC at 7PM. We listened to a lecture series on the Iliad during the drive that worked quite well to pass the time and was very interesting. I also did part of the driving which helped break things up a bit. We had dinner at an rather nice Italian restaurant that evening and called it a night.

Sunday:

In the morning I scouted out gyms in the area since the resort (that really wasn't a resort but more a collection of time-share condos) didn't have one, then went for a jog. Then we hung out researching activities until my sister arrived with the boys. We had lunch at a local diner, then went grocery shopping, then planned out the rest of the week and went out for dinner at a Thai place in town. Yum.

Monday:

My sister, oldest nephew and I selected a small local health club and did our morning workout. The boys and grandpa played golf while the rest of us relaxed a bit, then lunch at the time-share, then the whole crew spent the rest of the day exploring Grandfather Mountain. Dinner was in Boone at nice bistro-type restaurant. Then we hit an outlet mall.

Tuesday:

Morning workout, lunch at the time-share then off to the town of Blowing Rock to check out the shops. Dinner in Blowing Rock.

Wednesday:

Mom and Dad went on their own to spend the day exploring the Biltmore House in Asheville.

Morning workout, tennis, lunch at the time-share, then across the border to Tennessee for whitewater rafting, then off to Abington, VA for a performance of the musical Violet at the local theater company. The boys were sent off to see Inception.

Thursday:

Morning workout, then we took a scenic drive along the Blue Ridge Parkway, then back to the time-share for lunch, a quick visit to the pool at the "resort," then dinner in town and then off to a performance of a local historical drama.

Friday:

Morning workout, the boys my sister and grandpa played golf again while I took my mom into town for some window shopping, then lunch at the time-share, then trout fishing, then dinner, then we attended an outdoor "pops' concert in a nearby park.

Saturday:

8AM we were out the door, breakfast at the diner, then off to our respective homes. We were back in NJ by 7PM and thanks to shitty MTA service, I didn't get back home until 11:30PM. Welcome back to NYC!!

More to come.

Brief Update

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Tue, 20 Jul 2010 15:51:00 +0000

Miss me?

The vacation is going pretty well. The 11-hour drive down wasn't too bad, we switched off drivers so it helped break up the monotony. And we didn't get lost, for the most part.

The place is OK. The resort isn't really a resort, more like some condo houses attached to a mini golf course. Small indoor pool. No fitness center so I had to buy a week membership at a local gym.

I was initally assigned the sofabed, as usual, but it was so bad - plus we were still short one bed for a nephew - that we bought two cheap air mattresses and they are much better.

Restaurants in Boone, NC, where we are, are quite good with a nice variety. It seems that Boone is a college town, who knew?

Weather has been mild since we are high up in the mountains. High 70's to mid 80's, contant mix of sun and clouds with brief rain storms now and then.

Took a trip to Grandfather Mountain yesterday, lots of fun. Trip to Blowing Rock, white water rafting, some theater even (!) and some tennis and golf are on the agenda.

That's all for now.

Family Vaycay

noreply@blogger.com (David) — Sat, 17 Jul 2010 03:27:00 +0000

Hey gang.

I am writing this post from my parents' house because tomorrow morning at 8AM we are heading off for the annual family vacation. Mom, Dad, me, my sister and two nephews are heading out to the Smokey Mountains of North Carolina for a week of, well, I'm not really sure. Certainly not high culture.

But as it always is, it will be nice to hang out with the 'rents and the nephews and my sister, catch up, bond, and throw snappy rejoinders at each other for a week. Seriously, the snark level will be at Defcon 1.

We'll be at a timeshare resort somewhere in the hinterlands. I imagine it will be peaceful and picturesque, but I swear if I hear banjo's playing in the distance, I am jumping in the car and not looking back.

If this is like any of our previous trips, there will be tennis, miniature golf, a fishing trip, excursions to historic locations, at least one trip to an outlet mall, hopefully a few afternoons poolside at the resort, and maybe a scenic hike. I don't imagine there is much in the way of cultural offerings, but I've brought a book, so I'll make do.

I don't know if we will find much in the way of fine dining this time around, but I'm hoping we don't end up with too many dinners at places like Ruby Tuesdays or Chilis otherwise I may have to kill myself. I know we will be making a good number of meals ourselves, though, since the units we get always have full kitchen facilities. Plus I got a fresh shipment of produce from my half-share at a cooperative farm, so we will have some farm-fresh produce to utilize.

I will be hitting the resort gym every day, of course, since for me that's a real treat (don't judge).

Of course, there will be ice cream as well, so it all balances out.

In any case, I probably won't be posting much for the next week, so try and survive without me. Take comfort in knowing that I will be ~~boring~~ ~~forcing~~ entertaining you with posts and photos about my trip after I get back.

And be nice to Josh while I am gone. He will be in charge of my cats all next week and as they have yet to take a shine to him, he may need some cheering up.

Have a great weekend and see you on the other side!