I'd like to begin by saying Mazel Tov to all those nominated for Tony Awards this week. To those omitted from the list of nominees - like a bridge over troubled water, allow me to ease your minds and offer whatever solace I can by imparting a few words of wisdom my own mother once said to me as a child after I'd been overlooked for the title role in a local community theatre production of Annie for the third year in a row...."You're simply not good enough. Now suck it up and stop embarrassing me." (Better??) I am, for the most part, pleased with this year's Tony picks, minus a few which in my humble opinion are not exactly deserving of such high honor. I'm sure I don't need to name names...(Stephen Sondheim? Lifetime Achievement? I mean, when you really think about it...what's he even done, you guys?...)
But seriously, if Hairspray and Grease got drunk, hooked up, got preggz and gave birth to a kid with Down syndrome it would be Cry-Baby the Musical. I know it's slim pickin's in the Best Musical department, but come now! It will certainly be the year of In the Heights which is cool by me. But I personally feel this season belongs to the incredible revivals, and I'm excited to see what happens in those categ'ries.
TO THE LEFT, TO THE LEFT you'll find the poster for the 2008 CBS telecast, along with the theme of the evening, “There’s a little bit of Broadway in Everyone!” Or as I like to call it, “After 4 hours of the Tony's and 6 martinis, every guy's at least a little bi-curious.” (I like mine better.) I'm looking forward to the show, though I've not yet decided if I'll be attending the actual ceremony this year, or some gorgeous party where I can watch it on television so that I may shout obscenities at the people on stage and heckle them about their ugly dresses and boring speeches (which I usually do anyway, but from my crappy seats at Radio City, what lesbian sound designer could hear me??) And though I do enjoy getting all fancy and shiny and working the red carpet they lay out by the back door of the building for secondary celebrities like myself, janitorial staff and garbage collection, I'm rather tired of going to all that trouble every year only to show up and find Elaine Stritch wearing the exact same outfit as me...(a blousy men's dress shirt and pantyhose.)
Meanwhile, so much has gone on since last we convened! I mean, since my last post Glory Days has officially opened at Circle in the Square aaand completed its entire run on Broadway! (When did all that happen - Tuesday?) I actually swung by Don't Tell Mama in Hell's Kitchen last week to catch Seth Rudetsky interviewing the cast and "creative" team of the show just days after it open-closed. I thought it might be "interesting" (funny) to hear what they had to "say" (cry) about the whole experience. They sang a few songs and talked a bit about the ups and downs of life in the biz. ("The ups" being Tuesday night and "the downs" being early Wednesday morning.) By the end, I actually felt a little saddened by what had happened and angered by the producers who, in what was obviously a lame attempt to cash in on the high school musical craze, rushed this thing straight to the top without thinking twice and essentially threw these poor little sheep (with really lousy music and no choreography) to a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. I think the "most tragic" (funniest) part of the evening came when, halfway through their telling of how they'd heard the news that the show would not continue, the power inexplicably went out at Don't Tell Mama, and they were forced to finish their sad story in the dark. I mean, the poor kids; Their show had just been publicly brutalized and now they couldn't even finish this schmucky interview without someone pulling the plug. And now I'M making fun of them here. When will the cruelty end???
But with all this talk of Broadway shows, Tony nominations, and even Sondheim, I think we all know who the real star is here....My toilet. Yes, this weekend was spent painting and decorating my bathroom, and to say that it is the most exquisite thing ever to happen in this world would be a gross understatement. It's beautiful, and I'd spend the whole day sitting in there if I could. Luckily, thanks to a high-fiber diet, I don't have to. But it's really just gorgeous enough to make a girl wanna run out and get constipated.
Tomorrow, my shmancy new bed should arrive from West Elm, and in preparation I've been searching around for some shmancy new bedding to go on it. I've been kickin' around Bed Bath and Beyond, which I love. But may I make an open complaint regarding the staff at that place? They're lovely, and I realize they're only doing what they've been trained and (if I know anything about working in retail) threatened to do, but that is to incessantly greet their customers every single time they pass one. It seems extremely labored and obvious that they hate doing it, but clearly it's required of them. Try it sometime: walk around there looking at the employees. Any who don't greet you immediately upon making eye contact are instantly shot in the leg and disappear through a trap door below them.
These unsparing salutations might seem like polite courtesies to most, but to me they are an enormous imposition. When I go shopping, particularly for home goods, I am usually on a very specific, urgent, and time-sensitive mission; like pillow shams. There are about 900 workers on the floor of BB&B at all times, and I simply don't have the patience for polite, courteous exchanges with all of them. I find myself spinning around like a moron saying "hi...how are you...yes, lovely to see you....call me later...hello.." to every blue polo that walks by, and wind up completely losing my concentration! I just want to find the curtains I saw online the night before and get the hell out, but instead feel like I'm receiving guests at my Bar Mitzvah.
So to the warm and welcoming crew at BB&B and the like: if you happen to see me 'round your parts, do me a favor and look the other way! Don't come any closer. Don't ask me how my day is going. I'm gay and I need curtains and I do not have time to be pleasant and cordial with all of you. Lee-me-alone!