NYE07

I've been waiting for years. It never happens. There's always a possibility, sometimes distinct, sometimes hazy. It's always a huge ordeal, and granted, we've gotten better at it over the years. The past couple have been alright, most likely because of the options age offers. But never, never once has it truly been grand.

What is it? New Year's Eve. Or, NYE. This is usually preceeded by a similiarly blank and void Big Wednesday attempt just over a month before. However, this year, BW was blazing. Lots of fun, lots of excitement, lots of people, lots of adult beverages... we couldn't go wrong. Dare we play by those rules, and expect tonight to be as g-funk as Big Wednesday was? I say YES!

And that's how I learned to love NYE.

Tomorrow, resolutions for aught-seven before I say goodbye to the Queen City.

Lackluster

Something to remember 2006 by.

Gift Card Breakthroughs

I was at the local mega-chain bookshop this afternoon looking for items on which to spend my gift card. I actually had a list written up a couple days ago, noting all those items I thought I was going to get for Christmas and then never got. And, I printed out the coupon which I received for being a member of the elite online e-mail club, of which everyone else is also welcome to join.

I stood around a while, meandering through the aisles, gaping wide-eyed at the prices and only being half-interested in most of the products, including the ones on my list. For some reason, once I got to the store, $29.95 just seemed too expensive for NEXT, the new book by Michael Crichton. And I just felt I wasn't ready to re-purchase Sondheim's SWEENEY TODD IN CONCERT that was stolen from me a while back. But, after hemming and hawing, I did pick up a copy of the new recording by London's Chocolate Factory of SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH GEORGE, and the off-Broadway tuner I LOVE YOU BECAUSE, both of which I am currently listening to and will review shortly.

What gave me pause was a book on the "web design" shelf about blogging. I think it was called "People Don't Care What You Had For Breakfast" or something like that, and it offered tips on what to blog about and how to make one's blog brilliant. HA! I don't need any knuckle-down buckle-down cheap yet overlypriced text to tell ME what to write about. I am Beedow, Blogger of Brilliance. Sheepishly, I admit I did peruse the pages and find a couple of ideas to get me through the new year.

Tomorrow's post: NYE: How to Make it Work for You

Dreamgirls will make you happy?

I haven't sat down to read what everyone else is saying, because I wanted to form my own thoughts and opinions (I know! How terribly liberal of me). I finally made it to see DREAMGIRLS this afternoon with my sister, but before we were able to see the movie, we had to sit through about twenty minutes of nothingness, as the staff at the movie palace realized there was a problem and then had to correct it. My guess is something went awry with the tape and it had to be rewound or something -- do they do that in this day and age?

Anyhow. Jennifer Hudson is a yawn. She's an amateur way up there on the silver screen with the stunning Beyonce and the silent killer, Anika Noni Rose. This is supposed to be about this group of girls who are talented and rocket to stardom, right? Well, no wonder mister Curtis Taylor Junior fired her -- not only was she late all the time, but she didn't have the moves, the look, the voice, the style, the panache, or the raw skills to make it. And I can't understand how these award voters are being blinded.

The reason DREAMGIRLS was a smash on Broadway was because of the venue. This is a stage musical. It was written that way and should have stayed that way. It's the reason these big blockbuster musicals aren't transfering to the big screen -- because they're not meant to. We desperately want to applaud when Effie stands up to Curtis (and at my showing, one young girl did vehemently, to the annoyance of everyone around here), but it's not appropriate in a move theatre because ... and this is the big thing I realized today folks ... we're not applauding something that may have taken a dozen tries from several angles over a couple days to get right, and then fix and style in the editing room over months. When we want to applaud, we want to applaud the performance of a lifetime. Watch Jennifer Holliday sing the song (1982 Tony's or later in her career). It's breathtaking. There's nothing like it. Because it's real, it's live, it's in the moment. There's no one else there except her to share this very real and true moment with us the audience. On screen, there are a dozen to a hundred people neatly packaging the whole thing and sending it to us. That's not what broadway musicals are about.

CHICAGO made the transfer and did it brilliantly. RENT didn't. THE PRODUCERS didn't. Even SINGIN' IN THE RAIN didn't make the transfer to the stage. It was written as a Hollywood musical and should stay that way.

Anika Noni Rose was the best one up there, because she is from Broadway. She knew exactly what to do, how to play the role, sing the songs, act the act, and do it right. She was just so sweet and in the pocket, but unfortunately she's in the smallest of the roles.

[here: Original Lorrell, GREY'S ANATOMY's Loretta Devine] What would have helped the situation would have been the use of the 2001 concert cast (Lillias White as Effie, Audra McDonald as Deena and Heather Headley as Lorrell -- although, I'm still hardpressed to replace Rose with Headley). That cast also included Norm Lewis (Broadway's current Javier), Shoshana Bean (WICKED's Elphaba), Adriane Lenox (of DOUBT fame and a standby on CAROLINE, OR CHANGE where she worked with Rose), Brian Stokes Mitchell, Malcolm Gets, Alice Ripley, Emily Skinner, Brad Oscar and Sara Ramierz. Although, still, I think they work best in the recording and on the stage rather than if they had been shipped off to Hollywood and stuck up on film.

And, the cinematography. CRAPOLA. It looked like some failing frosh film fudgebucket finangled his way behind the camera somehow. It's awkward and strange, a poor turn from the guy who was the director of photography on FREE WILLY 3. The choreography (Fatima Robinson) is flat and lousy, too. Thank goodness they were wise enough to bring in tried-and-true team of Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhower to do the lighting. At least they knew what they were doing.

It's too bad about all of that, but that's the way it is. Go see it though, the music's kick-ass. And then you'll know what's what when the mount a national tour in the next year or so [my gut tells me they've just got to!].

Beedow's Year in Review

Because it seems right. Because everyone else is doing it. Because I am under the weather (again) and not in the mood to go out. Because I just got a haircut and feel lighter than air. Because Beedow's brilliant. And so, in order of their original appearance here, ten of the most memorable posts from this year at EA(t) A(t) (j)OE'S.

Tide Spill
It was a terrible day.

I-75 Offers Only the Runs
The collared greens were neither collared nor green.

Pictures and Accomplishments
- spent interminable hours in a fart-smelling van with seven other wackos

One of my Worst posts
It was Albert Einstein who said...

Some Shakespearean Failure
O! Methinks my life a suicide should be.

Exasperation in Skokie
On the [side of the] Road Again

Poem
Who knew I could write like this?

Extraordinary Friends
bidding somewhat agressively on a salad bowl

Tony Play-by-Play
Sorry, girlfriend, stick to what you know.

Project 365 Third Try
I look forward to writing for you every day.

Boxing Day

On this day in 1982, TIME magazine named it's "Man of the Year" for the first time ever a non-human: the personal computer. This year was also a milestone of sorts, going to "you" and all of the user-based web initiatives out there... youtube, myspace, facebook and wikipedia.

What is also interesting, and not technological at all, is the correlation between this date and 2003, 2004 and 2006 (today). In all three years, major earthquakes have created devastation. I mean, Boxing Day shouldn't create such a terror for Mother Nature, right? Apparently, she has something against corrugated cardboard. Anyway, wikipedia says that in 2003, "a strong magnitude 6.6 earthquake devastates southeast Iranian city of Bam, killing tens of thousands and destroying the citadel of Arg-é Bam." In 2004, an earthquake measuring 9.3 on the Richter magnitude scale creates a tsunami causing devastation in Sri Lanka, India, Indonesia, Thailand, Malaysia, The Maldives and many other areas around the rim of the Indian Ocean, killing more than 200,000." And today, "a magnitude 7.1 earthquake near Taiwan generated a tsunami 3 feet high."

Coming this week: 2006 in review, 2007 in preview/resolution, and how I stopped worrying and came to love New Year's Eve.

"Yes."

"What a way to start a concert, saying yes..." From there, Ms Minnelli goes on for an hour or so, rememberizing about her pivotal turn as herself in the Kander-Ebb-Fosse created LIZA WITH A Z. I got the collector's edition DVD for Christmas. It's brilliant. She's a hoot.

"If I blinked hard, I would have flown away my eyelashes are so long."

"I wanna discuss something here... my bustline. Thank you Bob Fosse."

It's fantastic. And I'll watch it again soon. Happy Christmas.

A Visit from St Nicholson

What is the holiday season for other than gifting, right? Well, readers, today you get a treat. The text of one of my favorite Christmas twists from Bob Rivers, starring one of my favorite crazy men of all time (except for that flick FIVE EASY PIECES which was just strange). Click the snowflake for a Windows Media Player audio sample... Happy days to you and yours, I hope you get everything you asked for from Santa Claus. I'll be sure to let you know how I did tomorrow.


Twas’ the fright before Christmas
No one upset me
With a big bowl of popcorn, watching TV

I stretched, gave a yawn, settled back in my chair.
In hopes that St. Nicholson soon would be there.
The children were lying awake without sleep
They’d seen all his movies; He gives them the creeps.

I’d cued up “Cuckoo’s Nest” with my trusty remote
To the part where he had all the nuts in the boat?
When out in the yard, there arose such a noise
I turned off the TV to see what it was.
And what to my wandering eyes should approach
But the Los Angeles Lakers, and Pat Riley, their coach!
The limo was racing, the team at its heels
That’s when I saw him: the man at the wheel.
He ranted and cursed, and waved round his swizzel stick
And I knew in a second it must be Jack Nick.

More rapid than the Celtics these Lakers they came
He screamed like a mad man and called them by name:
“Now Magic, now Worthy, now Scott, and Kareem.
On Cooper, on Rambis, and the rest of the team.”

Down the chimney St. Nicholson came with a groan.
Then he brushed off the suit and said, “Honey, I’m home.”

He was wearing a trench coat. With beer it was stained.
And his shirt was clawed to shreds by Shirley Maclaine
He had a fat face and a flabby beer belly.
From too many trips to the bar and the deli.
He said, “Its tough when an actor becomes fat and lazy. I only get calls to play weirdo’s and crazies. And middle-aged has-been’s with washed up careers. But I’ll fix them all and play Santa this year!”

And with that, he buried his head in the sack and said, “Lets see what you get from your old buddy Jack. A hatchet for Daddy…”
He reared back his head.
“To scare all those little buggers upstairs in bed. And a stiff drink for mommy in a nice tall glass. She could really use something to kill that bug up her chimney.”

With a wink of his eye and a twist of his face, he threw all the stockings into the fireplace. What could I do?
What could I say?
What would I wear on my feet Christmas day?

I asked for a reason,
and turning his head,
he looked straight at me,
and here’s what he said:

“Why? You wanna know why? Do you REALLY wanna know why, pal? I’ll tell you why.

When you’re out Christmas shopping. You know, doing your little “Christmas” things. With all your little Christmas friends. Spreadin all that Christmas cheer, with those stupid Christmas songs? Did you ever stop and think of pickin up a little something for old Jack? Did you ever stop to think of what Jack might like for Christmas? You know, Jack. From the movies. UP on the big screen. Pourin his heart out, givin it everything he’s got, day in and day out, just tryin as hard as he can to bring a tiny little bit of sunshine into your miserable little humdrum lives? Did you ever think of good ole’ Jack? For a second? NO! Not once! Maybe old Jack just wasn’t that good. Maybe I wasn’t good enough in the Postman Always Rings Twice. Acting my guts out for you in that one. Cuckoo’s Nest, the Shining, Witches of frickin Eastwick, Prizzi’s frickin Honor. All for you, Pal. Just to brighten things up for you. Not good enough though, is it? No, you want me to brighten up the Christmas season too? Isn’t that what you want, Pal? Okay, lets make things real bright around here. What do you say we decorate the tree? String up these pretty lights here. Oh, she’s looking brighter already. What do you say we take this cute little angel and ram her on the top branch, huh? How about some gasoline for the whole thing? I mean, lets make her just as bright as she can be. What do you say we light her up and chuck her through the old picture window here? No point in having a tree as bright as all that without giving the neighbors a chance to see, don’t you think? There, aren’t you glad ole’ Jack stopped by?”

The flames towered brightly in the cold, wintry sky
As he made for his limo and bade his goodbye.
And an age may unfold air I fail to regret
That visit from St. Nicholson, which I’d sooner forget.
But I swear by the goose bumps upon my skin
That I’ll always remember that devilish grin.
And his voice, crying out as he faded from sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and I hope I never see you again for as long as I live, for crying out loud!”

Mall Madness

No, I'm not totally finished with my holiday shopping yet. Although, I have to say that this season, it's been a lot easier than years past. I don't know why. I guess I decided what I was going to get everyone in advance, and so I was able to just go out and pick up the items, rather than loping through the mall halls unsure of what to even look for let alone purchase.

But, trying to get to the gifts, I had to avoid those walkers (you know, the women in their toupe sneakers who circle the mall endlessly all afternoon) and do a little bit of meandering. Then, of course, you have to briskly pass the families and lovey-dovey couples who are at the mall "for fun." Be careful to just barely brush their coats with yours, or else if you actually bump into them, there could be trouble.

OK. But really... who actually goes to the mall for fun? I can't imagine. I go to get what I gotta get and get goin'.

Anyway, I'm done here. I've got things to do, can't spend all day writing in online text boxes for the enjoyment of others. Come on!

Balls

People often say the law is important. Written rules... rules of the road... the unwritten rules... bylaws... amendments... commandments... things like that. I say, it's the spirit of the law that counts more than the law itself. For example, the Catholic Church requires all members to tithe 10% of their earnings. I think it's not so important that if a person makes $125.00 a week (I know, an egregious sum) he turns over twelve fifty exactly. Maybe he wants to give only ten dollars one week. Or perhaps fifteen dollars the next week.

It is in this vein that I choose to extend my day. See, Project 365 is supposed to be for good, and what good can it be if a day is constrained to twenty-four hours? Further, I was asleep for the first eight of those today. So, now that I haven't gone to bed yet tonight, and it is only three o'clock in the morning, I feel that I could actually wait another five hours to write this post, to give me the full twenty-four hours of my day. Of course, I won't do that.

However, I ask the courtesy of your respect and consideration at this hour of the morning, and I will consider this post the next in my P365 and will not cheat you by changing the date/time stamp of my post. So there.

Overheard

There were these two big, burly men standing across the aisle from me. One of them was wearing one of those big brown, down jackets, and the other, a black leather coat. Both had flannel shirts on underneath their coats. If they weren't wearing steel-toed workboots, they were in my imagination.

Guy One: "I don't know. I mean, either one I get, I know the other one will have been the better choice."

I was standing in line, waiting to purchase an overpriced electronic gift for an undeserving giftee, when I saw this exhange. The men were blocking my view of the "Staff Selections" DVDs, so I assumed that's what was under discussion. It was logical, right? Two probable construction workers, macho man's men, deciding between STAR WARS flicks, right? It made perfect sense.

They turned to leave, offering me a perfect view of the source of the concern: seasons one and two of the brilliant episodic drama, LAGUNA BEACH.

Labels

WARNING! I wrote this post because I didn't want to get sucked in to the habit of writing life-altering pieces every night. See last nights piece on "origins" to alter your life. Do not expect your life to alter following the reading of tonight's piece.

As I wrote the title of this post, I thought people might get excited. "O! Another prying post into the heart and soul of species!" No, friends (and foes), I am not here to talk about generalizing, name-calling, or Newman's Own dressings. I'm here to question the purpose of blogger-beta's "labels."

I see the use on other sites. Search for keywords, find item quickly. Makes sense.

But here, blogger's already given us the fabulous "search this blog" featurette, which I adore and use to my heart's content. I have found in the past few weeks, that the use of labels just balloons an already busy reader with more useless text. The nice feature is that it's one-click searching, but it requires the author to reduce her complex and developed essay into a mere half dozen words or so? Uncalledfor!

I may or may not label my posts in the future. Do not be offended.

origins

Don't worry, I'm not going to get into some Darwinesquestyle meanderings on life, death, islands, turtles, lizards, super novas or coconuts. I'm just wondering about the word "skidaddle." Or, "skedaddle." I don't think there's any other possible spellings.

What does this word want? I was with Rice at a lousy puck-chasing, stick-bashing game of chance tonight in the Queen City and discussed many things, among them, this word. Well, it came up and we said a few things about it and then I said I'd write about it.

It suggests a sort of lightheartedness, an airy quality. Perhaps flippant, but I think more light-in-ones-loafers sort of style. But I think the word can be said by (or refer to) brutes and queens alike, so the loafers analogy might have to go.

Does it come from the ancient Swiss winter sport yodle? "Ski-daddle! I'm coming down the mountain now."

Is it derived from the ebonics for papa, "SKi-dADDle OU-tta heAh fo' you NACH'ral FAHdduh kutz yoo" I wonder?

Apparently, it made its debut during the Civil War: "No sooner did the traitors discover their approach than they skiddaddled."

John Hotten argued in his Dictionary of Modern Slang in 1874, that the word derived from the Greek skedannumi, to “retire tumultuously." But, another widely argued origin is that it's a Scottish or Northern English dialect word (sgedadol) meaning to spill or scatter, in particular to spill milk.

Also:

+ to have your way with: "I'm going to skidaddle that girl when she comes here on Saturday"

+ Somethin u say to sumone ya hate; to bounce (leave): "Eh Yo, SKIDADLE..now!" (note a different spelling, using only ONE "d")

+ run away, as if in a panic

+ To leave hastily: bolt, get out, run, clear out, get, hotfoot, hightail, scram, vamoose, beat it, hightail it, hotfoot it, make tracks

+ or this one which replaces the "d" with "t": A country-bumpkin term that means to leave, generally rather quickly: "We need to skidattle on outta her', or else them-ther farma' might cat' on!"

+ or this one, changing the word almost entirely: "oh s%@!, here comes da police, lets skiddable"

I have to admit, I thought this would have been a shorter post, not realizing the work that has already been compiled on what I thought was my unique word of the day. Turns out it was a lot of people's unique word of the day at one time or another.

Hey, You Never Know

People's lives have been turned upside down, ruined and literally destroyed by what should have been the luckiest and most fortunate experience ever: winning the lottery. I watched the E!THS: Curse of the Lottery this afternoon and decided to save myself the hassle by decided now what to do with my winnings. In no particular order, when I win the lottery jackpot, I will:

+ Provide dental care to British citizens.
+ Pay Shonda Rhimes to let me watch all the tapings of GREY'S I want.
+ Get ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT and DAYBREAK back on the air.
+ Buy a Manhattan brownstone.
+ Get everything advertised on the commercial for Macy's One Day sale.
+ Not support W
+ Buy scores and albums rather than creatively acquiring them.
+ Get a MacBookPro and a new iPod.
+ Hire a driver.
+ Hire a chef.
+ Hire a stylist.
+ Hire a girlfriend. I mean...

What will YOU do?

**********

I was recently the target of an internet heist. My identity was stolen. Well, I think so anyway. I had some suspicious interaction with both MySpace and Amazon, received a couple of emails with bogus links and just had that general "I smell something fishy" sense about the whole thing. So, okay. I took action. I fired back. I wasn't going to let mister (or miss, or missus, or mademoiselle, or senor, or whatEVA!) hacker steal MY life.

I spent a good portion of an afternoon changing my passwords to EVERYTHING. My online banking, facebook and myspace type accounts, amazon and ebay style stores, blogging and newspaper mumbo jumos... all of them had to be re-passworded. Phew. Quite the process. But I did it. I completed the entire thing and changed all my passwords. I felt great.

Then I went to access any number of the just-password-altered sites. BRICK WALL. I had forgotten the password. Of course, I wrote them all down. But the problem is that they were all so similar, and I used to have them all memorized. The email got password XYX for this reason, but the banks were password YXY because all I needed to remember was to invert and reverse the email password. This went on ad nauseam in my brain, of which we don't use enough (perhaps another post in the making?).

Long story short, I'm just now getting the hang of these new passwords.

You probably didn't care, did you?

"Day Break" Canceled

Rather than give us the rest of the episodes in the series, ABC has opted to play reruns of "George Lopez" and "According to Jim" in the midseason slot originally designated for Taye Diggs' mini-series. DAY BREAK was only scheduled for a couple of months, and the show's official FAQ says:

Q: Will Hopper make it to tomorrow by the end of this season?
A: Yes.

Apparently, now, it's no. The show was just here to fill in for LOST while it was on hiatus. A mere 13 weeks, that's all. Then, ABC announced LOST would move to 10pm in its effort to regain lost viewers to CBS's CRIMINAL MINDS (with the incomprable Mandy Patinkin). It's a good show -- I watched regularly, and videotaped Patinkin's show to watch immediately after. Now, I'm going to have to wait until ABC posts the remaining episodes online, then watch them over my not-fast-enough web connection, which will take me about two hours to watch each 40-something-minute episode. Argh.

So MINDS overtook both the powerhouse that was LOST and the excitement that was/is DAY BREAK. It's too bad they couldn't even give us the rest of the order ... what, seven or eight more episodes? Execs must be terrified. Nothing is doing well in this slot. They're now betting on two half-hour comedies to spice things up after the New Year.

Plus, I'd found another TV girlfriend in Victoria Pratt to add to my collection (Pompeo, Paulson, and now Pratt). Funny, my crush in grade school's last name started with a "P" too.

And, not that I was watching anyway, Shatner's new SHOW ME THE MONEY has been pulled too... just after ABC last week ordered six new episodes. Talk about a %$#@-tease.

M O L A S S E S

as in, "slow as."

i was going to write a major, detailed, in depth feature tonight, but my web service is
S L O W
A S
H E C K
tonight. so i'm not. i'm merely checking in and will get back to you in the day to come. holler.

Highest Scoring NHL Game

I've been wondering the past few months about this and finally decided to figure it out. Of course, a quick google search gave me the answer. Did you already know this? As far as regular season hockey games are concerned in the NHL... the most goals scored by a team in one game is 16 (Montreal Canadiens beat Quebec Bulldogs 16-3, at Quebec, on March 3rd, 1920). The most goals scored in a game is 21, and it happened twice! (Montreal Canadiens beat Toronto S. Patricks at Montreal 14-7 on January 10th, 1920; Edmonton Oilers beat Chicago BlackHawks at Chicago 12-9 on December 11th, 1985).

Peter Boyle (1935-2006)

In memoriam, letting his work speak for itself:

A Big Dirty Swamp

Barbara Walters tonight named her 10 most fascinating people of the year. Number one, Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. She said that outside of the war (for which she has called Mr Bush incompetent), her number one priority is draining the swamp in the Capitol. "Maybe it'll take a woman to clean the house."

Wikipedia explains: "Pelosi is the first woman to lead a major political party in either house of Congress, and once formally elected, she would be the first woman to serve as Speaker. She would also be the first Californian or Italian American to hold the post, and the second Speaker from west of the Rockies (behind fellow Democrat Tom Foley of Washington). As Speaker, she would rank second in the presidential line of succession (behind the Vice President)."

Perhaps this is what we need. A woman in charge of something. Maybe she'll make some changes, make people aware, make people find some hope in the political arena of our country. Plus, she's pro-choice, pro gun control, and against the draft reinstituion. Let's hope that we actually can find some hope in Pelosi's new position and her party's success once they take over and begin their era of change in the coming year.

I'm glad she's here, I'm glad I'm here and I'm glad you're here.

Rita Moreno: b'day series

Beedow's Birthdays in History: A New Series... for when I don't have other things to write about slash time to write it in.

Today we featured Rita Moreno, born December 11 1931. She was on Broadway at age thirteen in the short-lived play SKYDRIFT (seven whole performances at the Belasco--which recently hosted the terrific revival of Odet's AWAKE AND SING!), which also starred Eli Wallach. She earned great recognition at age thirty for her role in the movie-fied WEST SIDE STORY as ingenue Maria.

What's the coolest thing about Rita? Well, she has an Oscar, Tony, Jefferson, Grammy, Emmy and a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Only eight other people, and no other Hispanics, have rec'd the Big Four awards. But some will remember her best for yelling "Hey you guys" on PBS back in the 80s.

A Salute to Book Writers

"In her [Nov 26th] article on Raúl Esparza, Joyce Wadler keeps referring to the show in which he appears as “Sondheim’s ‘Company.’ ” Once again The New York Times, like so many other publications, neglects to mention the book writer’s contribution to a musical, in this case that (and a brilliant that) of George Furth. One of the pleasures of John Doyle’s production is that it draws attention to George’s work. Would that The New York Times and other publications acknowledged what book writers do." Stephen Sondheim, Manhattan

In his letter to the editor, Mr Sondheim reveals how sublime an individual he truly is. How true that book writers often get the back burner, if they get a burner at all. Today, I offer a brief list of some very talented individuals and the musicals for which they deserve credit.

George Furth: COMPANY, THE ACT, MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG
Rachel Sheinkin: PUTNAM COUNTY SPELLING BEE
Roger Allers and Irene Mecchi: LION KING
Joseph A. Fields: WONDERFUL TOWN, FLOWER DRUM SONG, GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES
Jerome Chodorov: WONDERFUL TOWN, I HAD A BALL
Arthur Kopit: NINE, HIGH SOCIETY
Lawrence D. Cohen: CARRIE
Tom Eyen: DREAMGIRLS
Bill Russell: SIDE SHOW
Bob Martin, Don McKellar: DROWSY CHAPERONE
Doug Wright: GREY GARDENS
Otto Harbach: NO NO NANETTE, ROBERTA, ROSE MARIE (and about 75 others!)
Arthur Laurents: WEST SIDE STORY, GYPSY, NICK AND NORA, ANYONE CAN WHISTLE
Burt Shevelove: A FUNNY THING...FORUM
Larry Gelbart: A FUNNY THING...FORUM, CITY OF ANGELS
Sherman Yellen: REX, THE ROTHSCHILDS
Peter Stone: TITANIC, CURTAINS, SUGAR, 1776, others
Thomas Meehan: ANNIE, HAIRSPRAY, PRODUCERS, BOMBAY DREAMS

For more, check out IBDB.com.

Details to Follow

Today I catch up with some observations I promised in previous posts.

BABEL: gritty and heartbreaking. I found it much like TRAFFIC in its three connected, but not, storylines. The lucky Fanning family has two cute kids, those girls are just adorable. Never thought I'd see Brad holding Cate while she peed, but, okay. Also, that brings me to a different Cate point: she's a workaholic. At the previews last night, she was the star of two of them (the young boy madly in love with his teacher and vice-versa NOTES ON A SCANDAL, as well as the black-and-white-world-war-throwback THE GOOD GERMAN) not to mention two more productions currently in post-production and another currently being filmed. Phew!

But lest I babble on... ha! I went to see it because it was the longest movie up at the local screen, and I wanted to get my money's worth of something. It was good, because I like kleenex-films: SOPHIE'S CHOICE, HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG, LIFE AS A HOUSE. These are all, in their own ways, kleenex-films, and I like them. So there.

DREAMGIRLS SDTK: I confess I haven't listened to the entire thing yet. So I withold comment.

IDEAS: Cattleworks lambasted me, well, seemed surprised, when I said I was out of ideas. And, to everyone's credit, I haven't been in need of post topics in a few days. They've actually been flying around inside my head waiting to get some keyboard action. However, I do need to address his comment about Queen City Theatre, and theatre in general.

See, I was writing early in this blog's history, about my experiences at the theatre across the country. However, my standards are high, and a lot of what I was seeing was garnering negative reviews from me. Then, it happened that one of those people worked with a friend of mine, and I came awfully close to getting sacked for having written a bad review about said person and then actually working with them. I don't want to put myself in the position where I have to defend or not defend my views, so I simply am not going to post negative reviews of stage productions.

However, some other topics you brought up are worthy of chatter, and I look forward to considering them in the future. Happy Saturday.

"Grand Hotel... always the same. People come, people go. Nothing ever happens."

If only "nothing ever happens." Rather, RFK was assassinated and nothing was ever the same it would seem. Emilio Estevez's BOBBY is gripping. From Anthony Hopkins and Harry Belafonte's first lines about the Grand Hotel through the end of the credits, it is excellent filmmaking. The characters are real, the emotions are universal, the war stories are current. This is what the film industry should be. Always. No exceptions. It was beautiful and tragic, sweeping and innocent. More, it is timely and wholly relevant.

I was pleased as punch with Ms Lohan, of whom you may recall I haven't always been so thrilled. Her performance, and Elijah Wood's eyes (they were bluer than mine for chrissake), surprised the heck out of me. And maybe it wasn't her performance so much as the events surrounding her, and the epic scale of the finale ultimo in the kitchen. But anyway, at least she was comprehendable.

The very funny, very clever actors Shia LaBeouf and Brian Geraghty took their scenes and flew ... sky high. "Look at me." "I am." "Now, look at me ... through my eyes." Pass eyeglasses. Brilliant.

I was captivated by Mr Fishbourne's early scene over cobbler. Talk about taking the text, chewing it up, mulling it around, making it speak on so many levels and at twelve different volumes at once, spitting back out, and having all of that captured in the lens. He did excellent work in his scenes, of which I think there were a total of two? Both bursting with talent, however. Such a marvelous performance.

Hopkins is at the door to welcome the Senator in a really human moment. He's king of the screen in my book -- what I wouldn't give to simply watch him work. He is a fascinating (and terribly imposing, in that you're-my-hero sort of way) persona on screen, and I imagine him to be a real genuine soul in life, too.

So, of course, then there's the end. Again, the filmmaking is rich. Camera work, audio, file footage, editing, et al. are terrific. Kudos to the team behind the screen for making this sequence happen. I'm so thrilled to really agree with JJ about a film. He loved BOBBY and so did I. And I didn't love it because he did, or because I was trying to see in it what he saw weeks before. I really found it incredibly wonderful on my own. As I've hinted at before, to me, it was sad and uplifting at the same time. It's a film of these sort of oxymorons, I think.

It's really important for people to see movies like this, and for Hollywood and the razzle dazzles out there to make them. It's fantastic, because yesterday, I wrote about the hate that PRIMETIME exploited of minorities in our world. I found myself making comparisons here... such beautiful words for these actors to say, such crippling images for our eyes to see... all about the dangers and results of hatred and anger, war and rebellion. What a time to be alive--when in the face of such fear and doubt that Vietnam brought to America, there was someone who wanted to lead, someone who was willing to actually say (in much more eloquent words), "Gosh, we're in a heap o' trouble. Let's figure out what's wrong and fix it. We have to accept and acknowlege our mistakes, then move on and try to do good."

Knowing nothing about the film or Kennedy, I found myself transfixed and contemplative, wanting to know more. And yet, maybe, wishing I wouldn't have to look to the past for a leader who would be frank with the American people. In Prestonburg, Kentucky (not Prestonsburg, which is quite a distance from the other, as I found out this spring), Kennedy told the truth. Things were bad. People were not doing well. Everyone already knew it, so that wasn't the shock, but perhaps that he was man enough to say it to them. AND, he went on to say it didn't have to be like that, it could be better. It was a shame that in a country so blessed with riches as we are, there were places still like Prestonburg. And it's STILL TRUE. Things haven't changed that much. We need now someone who can affect change, who can accept our mistakes, seriously consider the suggestions and criticism of colleagues. We need a visonary, a leader, a go-getter, a person, a human being with a personality that rings true with all of us.

I wonder if it will ever happen. But, I wonder thanks to BOBBY. Go see it. Do yourself a favor.

When is Enough Enough?

Gay-haters. Pedophiles. Elderly-abusers. Peeping toms. PDAs. Reckless children, sans parents.

Just turn on your television news magazine program any night of the week, and these are some of the things you'll see. Last night, ABC's PRIMETIME aired a special "Basic Instincts" program. Their goal was to show us, using actors, what the normal, average person's reaction is to these sorts of people.

In the first few moments, they showed a handful of people riding in Vegas taxis and talking smack about homosexuals. This is getting ridiculous. Sure, they claim to have our best interests at heart, but with their programming, I have two gripes.

One. If this is a major problem, why add fuel to the fire by showing it to us and making us watch it even more? I am tired of this incessant bashing of people. Why do we have to keep watching it? Isn't it enough to have Katie tell us about it on the "official" nightly news or read about it in the Times? Let's use these television news magazines for something else!

Two. "They have no idea..." Don't these regular people, the subjects of the news magazines value their privacy? I would be OUTRAGED to be "caught by hidden cameras" and made a pawn in this hogwash. Not only are the subjects videotaped for their candid reactions, but AUDIOTAPED as well.

In the elderly-abuse segment, one man watched the abuse for nineteen minutes and then rode away on his bicycle. Well, if I were him, I'd sue. Primetime said the man never came back. So, they had his face on tape, showed it on network television, all without his permission it sounds like... since he never came back.

One segment did pixel out the faces of some subjects, but even so.

I'm appalled when ABC decides "enough is enough" and walks in to break the news. This is a terrible version of CANDID CAMERA and I don't think it's right. It's a HUGE violation of privacy, even if it's not aired on television. It's absolutely not their place--the networks have no right to video- or audio-record our lives. Our private lives.

Worse, a group of red hat ladies starts screaming and laughing when John Quiñones walks in saying, "I'm from PRIMETIME."

Even back when they were barging in on pedophiles in their homes. Of course they were in the wrong, no one is debating that. Well, maybe they are, but not here at EA(t) A(t) (j)OE'S. However, where's the warrant? This is why we have police, courts, judges, checks and balances. This civilian's arrest, or TV Anchor Arrest, is not right.

But... one funny moment from last night: this conversation between two diners watching what they were led to believe was an extra-marital affair:
HER: "If that ever happens to us, I'll kill you."
HIM: (chuckling) "OK"
HER: "No. Seriously. I will kill you. I'll kill you."

Depressed? I'd rather lather.

I don't know what it was. I'm still at a loss, I guess, but either way, it doesn't matter much. Depression, that is. Or, more specifically, the cause of my depression. No, not like clinically. But... what's the opposite of clinical? Home-ical? Nothing went right yesterday. It was blah. I sat at the machinery at work, unhappy. Not even my iPod could cheer me up. I mean, I've listened to a lot of the music on there, no not all of it (gimme a break, you try listening to 11,451 songs--that's right.), but I didn't want it anymore. I'd had it with musicals, and my non-musicals weren't hitting the spot.

So, once home, I figured I should go the gym. I wasn't in the mood at all, but I went. Whatever. I eliptical-ized for, oh, say eight minutes, stopped, put on my long pants and coat and drove back home. I wasn't having it. At all. Don't know why, just bummed.

So I had a beer. The day before I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work (also depressed...) and bought beer, chips, candy... anything to make me feel better. I'm like a pregnant woman when it comes to food. Give it to me or you're gonna die. I bought Carlsberg. I thought I'd had it before and enjoyed it. WRONG. It sucked. I dunno, smells bad and tastes like a mediocre Bud. I know! How terrible.

Then I went to the mall. I decided to see a movie and had an extra hour to kill. I bought the soundtrack for DREAMGIRLS (details to follow), avoided the cell-phone-kiosk-a@#hole, yada yada yada... it was time for the movie, BABEL (details to follow).

Anyhow, what got me all day, all that depressing day, was how much we deny ourselves. I mean, I didn't deny myself anything yesterday. I wanted it and I took it -- whatever it was. Because I was in a crappy mood. But on regular days, why do I force myself to go to the gym, work a job where I have to get up at the God-forsaken hour of 8:45am? WHY DO I SCRIMP AND SAVE THE SOAP IN THE SHOWER? You know, this new liquid soap everyone's been using with those loofah things? I don't use those, but I use the soap, sparingly of course. But yesterday, standing there with my washcloth, hot water scalding my shoulders, I decided, actually said it outloud, "I want more soap." So I poured on some extra soap. And I lathered all up. Mmm. I did the same thing today. YES! Now I know what that girl in the Herbal Essence commercial is so excited about. LATHER!

Sorkin's Stellar

Wow, that image is a lot smaller than I thought it would be. Anyway, last night's STUDIO 60 ON THE SUNSET STRIP was as good as they've been. If the current developing plot lines can't get and/or keep a viewership, we've got problems in America. How can SUPERNANNY survive season after season, and a top-notch hour of television like STUDIO 60 struggle even to the halfway point of its first season? It's a depressing state of affairs I see.

I don't think it hurts that I'm also a little bit, a little bit in love (name that lyricist...) with all four major characters. Bradley Whitford, Matthew Perry, Sarah Paulson and Amanda Peet are all really excellent in their roles. The dialogue is sharp, well executed and precise. The staging looks effortless, and is brilliantly manuevered. They're all gorgeous people, too, which doesn't hurt.

In fact, I wrote in my little pink diary last night about Paulson (and Ellen Pompeo) who has just the most wonderful mouth/lips. Sue me, sue me, what can you do me... (how about that lyricist?)

Tom also wrote about STUDIO 60 back in October.

Journalism Gripe

That's right, now that I can command+shift+4, I will be showing you all different angles of my PowerBook desktop.

Today's topic is a gripe. With writers. Or, non-writers, perhaps.

So, the other day, NYT ran a profile on Kristen Chenoweth. Just a simple follow-her-and-her-dog-around-town type thing. Today, Playbill.com runs a story using a TEENY TINY bit of information from the NYT story, and passes it off as its own. We already learned from the Times that Chenoweth and Nathan Lane are developing a sitcom about talk-show personalities like Regis and Kelly. We know that. So why does Playbill have to tell us that same information, packed inside a "story" which only includes other information (bios) we already know and pawn it off as news? This is not news, this is old information.

I don't mean to pick on Mr Pincus-Roth from Playbill. Sir, I'm sure it's not your fault. I mean to pick on news sources in general. I read something in the Times or other reputable source on, say, Tuesday morning. I've been known to pick up my local Queen City paper up to ten days later and find the same story -- either word for word or simply repackaged. Can't we figure out a way to write our own stories? Doesn't anyone see the point in twelve people not writing the same story for twelve different papers or magazines or news outlets? At least spruce it up.

HOLLER

This is unbelievable! I am so grateful to Brock for his sage wisdom which now allows me to take pictures of EVERYTHING on my desktop (including this calendar picture right here). I love it. I am going to do it all the time. It's amazing. Phew!

Okay, now that I got that out of my system, I went to see Handel's MESSIAH tonight. It was a nice thing to do. I sang it five years ago and haven't heard it since ... but tonight was very nice. The drive home, though ... uh oh! Looks like winter is finally here. The roads were covered with a light dusting of snow and deceptively pretty. I skidded a couple of times before I remembered, "Oh! I'm from here, I should drive like I've dealt with this my whole life." And then I was fine.

I'm (obviously/very clearly) running out of ideas for topics and I'm SO not even really started on PROJECT 365. No one cares what I write. Help. This needs to be passionate and topical. Problem is, I have nothing to say.

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

This week has been exhausting. I've worked, like a regular human being, five whole days in a row. I went to a sporting event last night and afterward for a drink. Today, I slept in, went eliptical-ing, watched the end of LOVE ACTUALLY and did some web design research. Now, I plan to watch HANNAH AND HER SISTERS because I didn't do it last week when I should have -- it's my favorite Thanksgiving movie. It always makes me feel cozy and warm, even though I'm not sure I'd want my life to be like the ones in the film, it just exudes the sort of aura that I feel is right for that holiday. Perhaps moreso than Christmas, Thanksgiving is the coziest holiday in my book.

You may ask, "Beedow, what book is that?" Well, I don't understand the question and I won't respond.

World AIDS Day

I was nervous I wasn't going to be able to blog today. When I came home from work, our power was out. It was strangely reminiscent of October 13, the day people around here cringe when they think of -- some people were without power for weeks. Luckily, I went out to dinner, and upon the arrival home, it was on. I'm happy.

It's interesting, I think, when the power goes out. People know the power is out, we're constantly complaining about that fact, and yet we still walk into rooms and flip the light switch "on." Come on! Why is that? It's like there's this huge elephant in the room, I guess.

Anyhow, happy 21st to my brother. And support for World AIDS Day y'all.

Comfort and joy for who?

WELL, I'm angry. Not at what I'm going to write about, but because I can't figure out how to capture an image of my screen. Anyone, Brock? I wanted to show the image that I am going to write about, but it's part of a flash project, so I couldn't download it to my harddrive, so I was just going to save an screen capture... anyhow.

Have you seen the Banana Republic ads this holiday season? Check out my link -- and I'm talking about the cover image and the girl on the next page with the antlers on her head. Gracious sakes! (is that catching on yet?) Those two look like they're so terribly unhappy. They're barely touching, they're all in wool, they've probably been in that position for thirty-eight minutes already, and were probably there for another seventeen while the photographer took pictures he wasn't even going to use.

And the girl with the horns. She's like, "Ugh. Can you believe I'm actually doing this?" Of course, saying that to the off-camera, way in the distance invisible and imagined "other."

The tag reads: comfort and joy for you. Of course for me, because I won't be wearing those clothes or spending so much time in what could have been a very exciting position. Am I wrong? Wouldn't you want to be lying there in the middle of both of those gorgeous people?

What I Didn't Write About

I actually had a lot of ideas for topics today. I mean, Danny DeVito partied with George Clooney last night, didn't sleep, and showed up either drunk or slurringly-hung over on ABC's THE VIEW this morning. That's pretty good in itself, right? I guess the trouble started when he was talking about an overnight at the White House. He couldn't remember if he slept with his wife in the Lincoln Bedroom or not. Eventually he decided it was her and that "we made it our business to really wreck the joint." DeVito's publicist said he's never had a problem with his drinking ... until now!

But, I decided not to write about that. Or Britney's newest problem. She was photographed two nights ago without her unmentionables on. Gracious sakes! This girl, who will be 25 on Saturday, used to be sweet and wholesome. Then she got dirty, got married, had some kids, dropped off the radar, got divorced and got ready for a comeback (not all necessarily in that order). Well, folks, here's the comeback, and it's with her new pal Paris Hilton. They are the dual hosts of the Billboard Music Awards on FOX this Monday. B-dog, keep your pants on. There's zero need for you to not have them. Remember when you used to look like this photo here? Those were the good ol' days, huh?

I also considered writing about how people go to the gym (myself included) to spend however long running, walking, swimming, aerobicizing or lifting, right? But, if we get there and the lot is full, well we don't want to actually walk from the back of the parking lot all the way to the entrance of the building, right? So, if possible, we will spot someone coming out of the building and walking to his or her car, follow them, put our blinker on (to tell other cars, "no no, this is my spot"), and wait for them to get in the car and drive away. Gracious sakes!

Instead, I chose to write about the weather. We broke a record high temperature today in the Queen City -- topping last year's record-breaker by one degree. That's right, a balmy 68 degrees here today. Of course, the National Weather Service predicts a 60% chance of snow Friday night.

Borat, jak się masz?

Born to Asimbala Sagdiyev and Boltok the Rapist, who is also his maternal grandfather, Borat is brother to a caged and retarded brother and Kazakhstan's trophy-winning fourth-best prostitute. He has had several wives and fathered three children, including Hooeylewis. He has been a guest of Conan, Leno, Letterman, Regis and Kelly, Jon Stewart, Harry Smith, Matt Lauer and more. When FOX's Gretchen Carlson said she would be seeing his upcoming documentary, Borat responded: "You let women in cinemas here? In my country we have a pen outside for the animals and womens!"

"I hope you kill every man, woman, and child in Iraq, down to the lizards...and may George W. Bush drink the blood of every man, woman, and child in Iraq," he said before a crowd of boo-ers in Salem, VA in January 2005. This and his other antics have caused a wave of legal issues for Sacha Baron Cohen (and distributor 20th Century Fox). He's the guy who created this character and produced and wrote and starred in the film. According to Page Six, however, Pam Anderson was in on the whole thing ... well, at least her "sacking."

Having the cops called 91 different times during the filming of one's movie (according to IMDB) might make one say, "Whoa!" But comedian Cohen didn't, and his Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan is certainly a hysterical feature. Without a doubt, much of the footage is in poor taste, derogatory, graphic, obscene, gratuitous, silly, stupid, drunk and/or X-rated for language, sex, nudity, violence, et al. However, I put my PC Hat away on the shelf and laughed all the way through this movie. Even my guest L'il B guffawed throughout. I mean, if the Atlantic Monthly can call this "may be the funniest film in a decade" surely you too can get out of your easy chair and close this blog and see it.

Wikipedia has some fascinating stuff on this. Check out these links: The Movie and The Guy for some more blindsiding (or is it blindsighting?) facts. Then, do what everyone doesn't want you to do and go to see this. Although, perhaps you should pick one of those days when your local movie palace offers the cheap tix like I did. Yeah, maybe the guy should have actually gotten real consent from these people--or hired talented actors like Beedow to play dumb college kids instead of giving away another acting job (thank you reality tee-vee)--but still, he's damn funny. And if you can't laugh at yourself, then don't go, because you're sure to be insulted at some point.

Dziękuję.

Liza

I was forced, a few months ago, yes, forced (!) to sign up for myspace, which I did. So, a friend of mine had this fabulous video on his profile, which I've ganked and need to share with you. Now, Liza gets a bad rap sometimes -- a crazy mother, an abused ex-hubby, not to mention some of her own troubles -- but really, she's "just terrific." This footage, of course, is for people who already know her and can laugh with her. I'd be ashamed of you if you laughed at her in these clips. To get to know her, check out her absolutely marvelous, Emmy-Award winning show from 1972, LIZA WITH A Z, available via today's title link.

Anyhow, this montage is brilliant. Her devilish laughter and out-of-context quips are to die for. "I worked with retarded children/No she didn't!" And the cut after the Bette comment to Liza just sitting there, sad-eyed. Yes! Oh, and the laugh at the first caller is priceless. Of course, credit to the brilliant editor of this clip, but all the same -- love ya Liza.

Third Time's the Charm (1/365.c)

It was one week ago when I last posted here. An entire week of failure at the now infamous PROJECT 365. But, I think I've learned a lot in this week. Perhaps most importantly, who cares if I fail? There's been so little discussion of it, no comments really, and so, who cares? Why am I even attempting to write a post each day? For what purpose am I striving?

I think what it comes down to is self. We challenge ourselves to be better people, better sons or daughters, mothers or fathers, teachers or students, artists or atheletes. It's inevitable that we want to become good at something. Perhaps some of us are good at something already: mathematics, science, finance, trading stocks, taking our vitamins each day without forgetting... but there are others of us who are in need of something to challenge us further.

I initiated PROJECT 365 as a way of challenging myself to a major goal. It's an enormous enterprise, this writing every single day for an entire year thing. But as I considered backing out again this week, I realized it would just be another notch on the failure stick I have under my bed. Each time I don't complete a task, I put another hash mark on the ol' hickory. I didn't want to do it again, so, I left the failure stick in its place, opened my PowerBook and logged on to the beta version of Blogger.

Don't be a stranger. Leave your comments and criticisms, as they might stir in me some fabulous ideas. I look forward to writing for you every day.

YouTube Finds

I've recently become addicted to this fabulous website, TIME magazine's invention of the year. And, from time to time, I think it will be my duty to share with you some fantastic finds. Today, two Broadway clips, both act one finales.

First, an eight-and-a-half minute segment from the 1982 TONY Awards. Jennifer Holliday performs "And I Am Telling You (I'm Not Going)" from DREAMGIRLS. It is fantastic--she's the only person who should ever sing this song I believe. Except JJ who supposedly does a mean karaoke rendition.

Second, a clip from the infamous Broadway flop, CARRIE. I was going to link to "And Eve Was Weak," which I saw the other day online and LOVED, but now it's gone, as is the downfall of YouTube. I wish they offered a pay service (or free!) that would let us download the clips. Maybe soon. But, here is Betty Buckley and Linzi Hateley, "I Remember How Those Boys Could Dance."

Busy Saturday

Post.

Holiday Commercials

So, it happened about a week ago, that's approximately two weeks before Thanksgiving. I saw my first commercial for the holiday season. Goodness. I'll gripe about that some other time. My issue tonight is not that the commercials are on, but that they're the SAME as last year. The jewlery commercial where Santa needs a ring for "someone very special" and Mrs Claus gasps at the end, "Kris! How did you know?" Or, the animated credit card one where the cars drive up to the house through the snow. Gimme a break. I've already seen these! What're your R&D people doing? They should D* a new ad campaign!

*that's "develop" from "research and development" for all you crazies.

Next time: finds on YouTube

Survey: Movies

1: Popcorn or candy? Nothing. I don't know why people insist on eating during a movie. It makes loud noises (gurgle, crunch, pop, cicero, lipshitz) and sticks to the floor and drives me insane. Plus, the popcorn kernels get stuck in my teeth.

2. Name a movie you've been meaning to see forever. STAR WARS, any or all of them.

3. You are given the power to recall one Oscar: Who loses theirs and to whom? I don't care, but they should give it to me.

4. Steal one costume from a movie for your wardrobe. Which will it be? Ray Bolger's scarecrow.

5. Your favorite film franchise is... Christopher Guest-u-mentaries.

6. Invite five movie people over for dinner. Who are they? Why'd you invite them? What do you feed them? Jack Nicholson, Julie Andrews, Gene Kelly, Meryl Streep and Dustin Hoffman (and Gene Wilder and Faye Dunaway). They all seem like fun, and I think we'd all have a lot to chat about. I'd have them fill out a menu card in advance: check one - bacon cheeseburger, beef on weck, chicken finger sub, or for the veg's, beer.

7. What is the appropriate punishment for people who answer cell phones in the movie theater? Chinese water torture.

8. Choose a female bodyguard: Ripley from Aliens. Mystique from X-Men. Sarah Connor from Terminator 2. The Bride from Kill Bill. Mace from Strange Days. What about Angelica Houston from THE WITCHES? I bet she'd bite someone's head off.

9. What's the scariest thing you've ever seen in a movie? Not a movie. Youtube. Just watch.


10. Your favorite genre (excluding comedy and drama) is? SINGIN IN THE RAIN. It's a genre in itself.

11. You are given the power to greenlight movies at a major studio for one year. How do you wield this power? I cast me in as many films as possible, giving me an extensive array of characters and situations to play, offering the public exactly what they want: me.

12. Bonnie or Clyde? Well, Bonnie. Because didn't Clyde have some sort of sexual inablities? I don't want that. So, Bonnie.

13. Who are you tagging to answer this survey? All y'all.

BEDROOM WALLS

What do your bedroom walls say about you? What do they look like? What's on them? What were they previously? When and why did you change them?

Me? Well, I've moved around a lot in the past year, but at home, mine used to be blue. They were painted red when I was in seventh or eighth grade, I believe. Not red, but the red like the inside of a red ball. Deep and dark. One wall is wallpapered with an image of a space shuttle flying over the earth.

Your turn.

PS: I wrote a post about dreaming, and deleted it. I won't be posting it; it was strange, weird and revealing.

Family Dinner (2/365.b)

My sister came home from college tonight for her fall break. Since she was home, we had a nice chicken parm dinner with spaghetti and green beans. Mmm. Plus, brownies for dessert.

Anyhow, we laughed a lot. How many families, I wonder, actually sit down together and eat in a civilized manner? I'm sure I could google the statistics, but I'm lazy, remember? It was actually nice to sit there and make jokes at each other and spit food out of our mouths, try to keep the milk from coming out our nostrils and look at each other for just long enough not to see all the chewed up food inside each other's mouths.

Most of the laughing, though, was about one of television's greatest mold-breakers: THE OFFICE. We sat there and made faces to the invisible cameraman, just like Pam and Jim do. For nearly an hour. HYsterical.

And now it's over. Back to the sadness.

STILL TO COME: movie survey, self-lauding dreaming, bedroom walls, endorphins

NB: This post is number two of 365 in my second attempt at blogging for a year in a row, thus 2/365.b

Failure

What a terrible word. Perhaps if I am ever interviewed by the ever-prepared Jim Lipton, I could tell him that is my least favorite word in the English language. Mr Lipton, I don't think, has ever failed anything. Let's look at some definitions, courtesy the Cambridge Advanced Learner's Dictionary:

FAIL (v)
to not succeed in what you are trying to achieve or are expected to do;
to not do something which you should do;
to become weaker or stop working completely

FAILED (adj)
having not succeeded

FAILING (adj)
becoming weaker or less successful

FAILURE (n)
when something or someone has not succeeded;
when you do not do something that you must do or are expected to do;
when something does not work, or stops working as well as it should

Now, for an example which befits all the above definitions: Project 365 failed when Beedow did not create a post yesterday.

We all knew it would happen, it was just a matter of time. There had been eleven posts, and on the day of post twelve, this blogger simply forgot. He had remembered while watching television, thinking, "gosh, I hope I don't forget to blog." Still, he did. He failed. He has failed before, some of them more grandiose, some less public, all failures however. He hopes to not fail again.

The inevitable question, though, becomes: What becomes of Project 365? Are we to assume that now the project will last an extra day, becoming P366? Does this post, which should have been number thirteen, become reduced to numero doce? I think we shouldn't dwell to much on the issue lest it become synonymous with other too-heavily-dwelled bits of news such as Watergate, the Crusades, the Loch Ness Monster or the Britney-Kevin Story. Project 365 was meant to bring joy, not create scandal. So stop bugging me. Stop calling your Mother. She doesn't care that I forgot to write on here last night.

Ah! Feels so Good

I cleaned my room this morning. It had been a sty. I couldn't (literally) get from the door to my bed without stepping on something. Two days ago, I took a hard step onto a razor that was lying blade-side-up on the floor. I had never before actually lived in a room, nor actually seen one, where a person really actually truly couldn't see the floor. It was cluttered. A mess. A real bad deal.

But I woke up and made a cup of tea with honey... mmm. Then, I picked up all the clothes and put them in the hamper, put all the papers into a pile, and the receipts went into my I Love Lucy tin lunch-box which I use to store receipts until I sift through them looking for deductibles at tax-time. I didn't even spend more than three minutes reading or reminiscing at the various scribbles and notes that usually would distract me from the task at hand, no, not this time. I was on a mission. The loose change went into the cup with the crayola markers, the chocolates were put back into a mug on the desk, the toiletries went on the shelf, or back into the bathroom where they belong.

Then I vacuumed. Now I'm sitting on the floor of the room, so happy.

Solitude @ the movies

What's wrong with seeing movies alone? There's too many people out there (authors, critics, celebs, regular joes) who are, I don't know, ashamed maybe, or embarrassed to go to the movies alone. They think it's uncool, it's not hip, it's a sure sign that they're loners and losers who can't even find someone to go sit with them in a dark room and not talk for two hours. Even a loser should know someone -- or should be able to pay someone to go see the film, right? Just so they won't walk in and sit alone?

Well, I'm here tonight to dispel that myth. Last fall, on my eventful six week tour of the upper midwestern states, I had a great deal of free time and felt that there was no better way to spend it than seeing just about every film out during that time. It was ... GREAT FUN. I went alone because the person I was driving along with didn't really want to go. No problem. I cam to realize there is a great and wonderful peace and brilliance in solitude at the movies.

Why would you want to go with someone when you can go alone? You won't have to pretend you're enjoying it if you're not. You won't have to answer any questions they ask. You won't have to listen to their popcorn chewing and root beer slurping. You don't have to hold their hand if something scary happens, and you won't have to get a stiff shoulder when its a sad movie and they put their head on it. Come on, tell me, what's bad about going alone?

Plus, you can see anything you want and don't have to compromise. You can go early if you want and watch "The 20" and enjoy ALL the previews. I love it and will continue to go alone whenever I can.

Just Barely

Getting this post in at two minutes under the wire means it'll be short. But, it IS a post, and it does count for a daily blog entry as I continue to try not to fail this terribly challenging PROJECT.

Also, I was born in the Year of the Dog. I just found this out.

passing time @ work

I'm working now on days when I am not performing at night, and it's actually okay because the job is mindless and allows me to listen to my iPod. There are some things to discuss here.

One: THANK GOD for my iPod. I can't imagine living in a society sans personal music devices again. On an unrelated note, I remember when I first broke down a got a cell. Sheesh! Now with my laptop, cell and iPod, what else do I need? (bluetooth devices, a blueray DVD player, a DVD recorder, a TiVo for goodness sake... I guess I've got a Christmas list in the works)

Two: I can't stand my iPod. Wait. Stop. Did I just contradict myself? Well, sorta. See, all day long I do mindless, finger strengthening jobs and I listen to my headphones. Well, luckily I work less than an eight hour day, but still, six hours with those little earbuds in my ears makes me sore! My left ear lobe is especially prone to pain after about two- or two-and-a-half hours. Sometimes I am moved to a job that's quite loud, so I wear ear protection, right? Well, my earbuds fit inside the protection, but that causes a whole other set of pain issues--different parts of the ear, different pressure, etc.

Three: Books on Tape. I'm using the mornings to listen to Myla Goldberg's BEE SEASON (I blogged about the movie here) on CD. It's my first audiobook, and I think I might come around to them. They're quick and easy to get through, evidently, as I can "read" at work. But, I can't imagine listening to them at home while I'm sitting around the living room. I would rather pull out an actual old-fashioned, bounded grouping of pages, that, in previous centuries was commonly known as a BOOK. Also, Goldberg does the reading herself, and I've found her voice to be difficult and challenging to listen to continuously. Each morning as I turn her on, it's fine. But thank goodness I stop after two-and-a-half hours and switch to music.

Four: Music. It's a good opportunity for me to finally listen to many of those showtunes I've purchased or downloaded (always legally, always) and never actually heard. There are some gems out there that I've found recently, including APPLAUSE and, I know, but I'm just now learning it, DREAMGIRLS.

I was definitely going to blog about another issue entirely, but now I'll just be able to save it for tomorrow. Then, coming soon: solitude at the movies, self-lauding dreaming.

SHE LIKES CAKE!

[photo: DRAMA DESK AWARDS, MAY 06]

I had just turned on my computer and was pondering what to write about tonight when I noticed I had just missed a phone call and had a voice mail message. Now, I can't go into a lot of specifics here, because that would mean divulging myself or my friends' names. So, my friend called with two messages. One of them was fantastic, but I will save it for another dry day in blog land. The second was from her roommate, who sometimes works in a certain capacity at a certain Broadway show. The roommate said, simply: "Beth Leavel told me today that she likes cake." HOLLER!

Earlier this summer, I professed my love for this woman and thought, hey, maybe I should send her a banana bread that I cooked since I am pretty darn good at baking banana bread (no nuts, "cuz men don't like nuts" <---anyone? name that musical). Well, we decided that if I did send the bread, Beth would probably have thrown it away because, hey, could have been a scary stalker, right? So, we left it at that and ate it ourselves. I had forgotten about that proposed idea and moved on in my life, until tonight.

I came home from the theatre, seeing a production of Greenberg's THREE DAYS OF RAIN, to this amazing note on my voice mail. I should start practicing baking cake. I wonder what kind of cake she likes? Chocolate? Vanilla? Ice-cream? And frosting... cream cheese? Strawberry? The kind with those little flecks of sugar in it? And, just as vital, what should I write on the cake when I do have it delivered to her dressing room?

My grandmother used to work in a bakery. She is one of the foremost cake decorators I know. She's great. To this day, damn, she makes a good cake. I'll have to talk with her about it and get her ideas for what I should send to this amazing lady. I can only hope that this lady doesn't get freaked out by a cake. By my love for her. Maybe I should avoid the word love all together. Maybe it should be something like, "YOU ROCK." Or, "HERE'S A CAKE YOU CAN HAVE. AND EAT, TOO." I'll work on some other ideas.

WOO HOO. The excitement is in the air.

Election Calls

Tomorrow is election day. I should be pumped up, methinks, but alas, I am not. I don't really care. I don't. Sorry, folks. What I do care about, however, is how I spend my free time. So, it makes me mad, it gets my dander up (if you will), when I get telephone calls from Tony Bennett and the like, asking me to vote for Whoozits or Whoohah. Tony, you called me twice in the span of ten minutes the other evening, and I hung up on you both times. I don't want to listen to you. If I did, I'd certainly rather hear your crooning than your begging. This isn't your style. You're supposed to be on AM1230: The Music of My Life, with those lilting melodies and creamy tones. THAT's what you're about. That's why people know you and (maybe still) care about you. They are the folks who will listen to your phone messages... but maybe you should reward them with a couple of bars if they listen to your whole message. And maybe you do. I didn't listen long enough to find out.

Step bump, step bump bump

Watch this.

Now, tell me you didn't laugh. It's HYsterical. And I know various people in different circles of my life who have turned me on to this show, these people, and this clip. Brilliance epitomized.

I think it's important... well, to be able to hitch-kick when it's required of you. Readers, if you cannot hitch-kick, please just go find a dancer friend and say, "Hey, this will only take 3.2 seconds, but Beedow wants me to learn a quick l'il ol' hitch-kick. Could you show me?" They'll inevitably say, "Sure!" and you'll be on your way to becoming a star.

Little Mysteries

Look at yesterday's post. See the text justification? Each line with hard spaces after it, so instead of wrapping around the line nicely like this post is doing, that one makes it look goofy on the page. The reason? Well, I wrote yesterday's post in my email program (Apple's Mail) and sent it off to be published. Blogger offers a really easy way of doing that, which I LOVE. It's easier than signing on to the website and using the form on the various webpages, et al. The problem is that it automatically puts in these hard spaces. I don't like it. I don't know why it does it and I don't like things that I don't know why they happen.

Like itches. You know, on your skin. I was just sitting here trying think of something that happens that I don't understand the reasoning behind, and I got an itch on my arm. Now I have an itch on my collarbone. Why is that? It's not like (--now there's one on the skin between my upper lip and my left nostril--) I said, hey, I wish I would start itching. Argh. I don't get it, and I don't understand it.

If someone knows why thing one or thing two occurs, please comment and let me know. You can even do it anonymously so you don't have an onslaught of people writing to you, calling you and driving by your home honking their horns in thanks for the answers to two of life's little mysteries.

Loopy Lotteries

What's the story with the lottery, huh? I have two friends who share
"Lotto Tuesdays" and share the cost of various lottery games each
week. They've done okay in their winnings, but they haven't hit it
big yet... at least, they haven't told me if they have. So why do I
feel I should play? What makes me think that I'll have the luck to win?

Earlier this week, I bought a lottery ticket -- and lost -- but so
did the rest of the country. No one one last Tuesday's Mega
Millions. So, the next drawing is tonight, and the jackpot went up.
I figured if I didn't buy a ticket, it would have been a waste of my
dollar early in the week, right? Does that even make sense (or
cents! ha!)? I also picked up a scratch off ticket. Each time I buy
these tickets (mind you, my total lottery spending in my whole life
is probably under $25), I feel -- I really feel -- like I am going to
win. I get excited about it. I get myself all geared up... how will
I spend the money? Will I tell everyone I know? Will I give to
charity? Will I be the same person or will I become a crazy fly-by-
night who goes nuts and is found face-down in a gutter in Connecticut
in a rainstorm some random April night next year?

Who knows... here's crossing my fingers though that I have the chance
to get the cash and NOT wind up in that CT gutter.

Bed Bugs (2/365)

Well, let's call yesterday's post #1 in our official PROJECT 365/365. So, this morning I woke up early because I had been bitten in the night by a bug. That's right, some sort of insect attached itself to my left ankle, stuck it's sticker in me and drew out my blood. Well, I immediately thought it was a bedbug, what, with the recently announced reinfestation of them here in the US. Plus, my sister mentioned that she thought she had them in college, and told us about it when she came home last weekend -- probably as a carrier of these nasty little buggers.

I did a little research this morning and found out I was probably wrong. It looks like mine isn't a bite due to the BBs, but maybe some spider or something. Anyhow, you should check out the link to make sure you're not infested, and if you are, how to get rid of them. Of course, the information is from Pest Control Canada, but I think the same applies to humans on both sides of the border.

And, lastly, in Canadian news, I took a friend of mine to Niagara Falls on Monday. I forget how spellbinding it is to first-timers. I've seen it often, and think it's grand, but not like newcomers. So, if you're in town, check out the Falls again, or for the first time. And if you want me to go with you, just send me a note and I'll come too, I will!

I'M COMING BACK

In light of my recent departure from the web, I am contemplating a return engagement to the blogging world. Most probably in an organized manner, pulling from the ideas and concepts behind Susan Lori-Parks' 365 Days/365 Plays. I will, once I begin, write here something every single day for an entire year. It promises to be exciting ... there are many things brewing in the pot for the coming months. It is also because I just realized that I began this blog just over one year ago (10/10/05) and why not come back to it?

It will change in essence, in ideas, in spirit ... but that's the fun of it. It'll be a buffet of information and thoughts, piled high on a brown plastic tray that looks like the one you'd get at Joe's. You know, EA(t) A(t) (j)OE'S.

"...this time, sung"

maybe if I take my hat off...

Thank goodness video cameras were invented back in the 70s. Check out both parts of the recording session for the OBC album of Sondheim's COMPANY. Elaine works her magic on "The Ladies Who Lunch" after a couple toasts herself.

| Part One | Part Two |

However, all else withstanding, she is a genius. See the intention in her eyes in part one, no matter her inebriation? There are few greats in this world. Elaine is one of them.

'Frige Manners

I'm actually surprised that I remembered my Blogger username and password, considering I haven't been around here in almost a month. It's been a busy month, though, full of personal and professional ups and downs, lefts and rights, and so on and so forth. I apologize to my readership (all three of you) and the occasional visitor like RC (someone I don't think I know).

Refrigerators are tricky. Living in what is essentially a small hotel (nine bedrooms, seven or eight bathrooms, two refrigerators), it can get crazy and wacky. There's about sixteen people here with simply one freezer and one point five friges. I have half a shelf to store all of my items -- 1% milk, orange juice, sour cream, turkey (or ham or roast beef, but not all three at once), a single tomato, two peppers, a small bottle of pomegranate juice, two beers at a time, a carton of eggs, a bag a spinach, carrots, veggie dip, veggie cream cheese, salad dressing, butter/margerine, spaghetti sauce, and alfredo sauce. Then, there's a tiny space in the freezer for me to put my two hamberger patties, two to three breasts of chicken and perhaps a small container of broccoli spears.

So, to put it into some sort of concise and regimented rulebook, I would use the following entry for "refrigerator etiqutte"

Purchase only food you will eat. Store it in proper containers, preferably stackable tupperware. Do not touch my food, move my food or sample my food. It is mine. It is in its place and yours is not there. Due dates are listed for a reason. Abide by them. Do not smell the milk or ask me to smell the milk three days after its due date. If your lettuce is slimy, throw it out. If the door doesn't shut, you've purchased too much food and must eat some promptly. Have some consideration. Live long and slobber, but not in the refrigerator.

Real World

Heck. What's up with humongous houses? On vacation in the OBX, my whole extended family stayed in one house on the ocean, and now I'm living in a sprawling New England shack with about 17 others (I actually am not sure how many people really live here). It's fine. I mean, there's like six or seven bathrooms, seven or eight bedrooms, and two refrigerators... but not enough freezer space, so, that means eating fresh food as much as possible.

OK. Now colds. I always seem to get a cold at the most inopportune times. Like this week, when I've been at the theatre all week, 12 hours a day, sitting there doing nothing because I'm not really in the show, and ... oh heck, I just wish I were feeling better. Anyway, writing here seems to get more difficult as there's nothing really going on. So, if you want more posts, you'll have to suggest topics.

BEAR

Up here in NH for work work - like a real human - and on the way back to the house today, saw a BLACK BEAR! Holler.

TONY Turns Sixty

Ten minutes to go, I'm excited and ready. You can guess who I'm rooting for... the cast album of that gem came out this week, almost three weeks ahead of schedule in time for this weekend. I'm hoping my parents picked it up for me on their way to the airport to pick up my brother's girlfriend tonight on our vacation. We'll see. If they did, it won't matter who wins because I'll have my very own award to listen to and revel in all night! Holla! (back later with the results/commentary)

844: So far, I'd have to say that SWEENEY's musical performance was the best part of the show. Although I wasn't impressed with the show itself, they did a bang up job for this telecast. I mean, come on. Why would DROWSY want to only show Ms Foster? Didn't they want to do "Toledo Surprise" or "I Do I Do in the Sky" to showcase more people? Alas. At least the show won both Book and Music & Lyrics. It would have been a terrible thing otherwise.

848: Liza's a class act. Ugh, remember ABSURD PERSON SINGULAR? Ugh.

851: Oooo. John Doyle awarded by a superb Hank Azaria and Oliver Platt for SWEENEY. Happy anniversary to him and his partner Robert -- great anniversary gift, eh? That's why I love the TONYs, because people can thank their partners without any g-d hoopla. BUT, did they voters see the show? Come on. I couldn't understand the story because the emphasis for the audience was just based on "O, Patti's playing the tuba. How hysterical!"

854: Pesci and three of the four seasons - oh brother. More jukebox musicals. Sorry John Lloyd Young, I just can't stand 'em.

857: But gosh, he sure can sing. And the scenic design is pretty, too. Thank you TONYs for concentrating on these musical numbers instead of having another disaster like WICKED was.

906: O! Audra is brilliant. And heck, Ben Vereen and Julie Andrews - can it get any better?

908: Yes. Dick Van Dyke, Mandy Patinkin (and what are those glasses for...?), Jennifer Holliday. Heck yes.

911: AWAKE AND SING! Grand. Actually, I just realized about four weeks ago that Andre Bishop is white. Ha, I don't know why I thought otherwise. O, I'm so pleased - I almost didn't go see it, except for this guy who sat next to me the first time I saw DROWSY and he said it was really wonderful. Bernie is a little bit wordy, huh?

916: I think someone needs to rethink the rules for the nominating committee. THE WEDDING SINGER? Oh no. The lyrics are atrocious, the music, everything -- please close. Please close soon. Let's finally let them nominate anyone they want or only two or three or whatever instead of forcing ridiculous nominees like this one. I mean, good for the cast for having work, but, hey, you can go out on a TheatreWorks tour or something. Or whatever. YUCK.

925: Thank you! cast of SPAMALOT for making this annual boring speech about what the Wing does really funnny! Holla!

929: Sara Ramierz and TR Knight --> I LOVE them on GREY'S ANATOMY. Carolee maybe doesn't deserve it for this role, but gosh she's greand. Beth Leavel is THE WINNER! "YES!" says Sara Ramiez!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA! "Oh my gooness gracious sakes alive. breathe. breathe. Thank you life for the priviledge ... this role of a lifetime ... I AM FLYING. Cheers, dahling, I love my job, thank you!" [here she is on stage with Danny Burstein. brilliant.] Beedow is SO pleased -- this is the only award he truly cared about. Leavel is just absolutely superb in this role, in this show, everything about it.

933: O, Cyndi is still as bad as she was when I saw it. Sorry, girlfriend, stick to what you know.

943: The audience goes WILD over the Bush knock, "a republican puppet... that rings a bell."

945: WHOA. A total upset, Christian Hoff wins Featured Actor in a Musical. Holy cow. NO ONE expected that. It was Jim Dale 100%. "This is a perfect story," he says as he says hello to his new baby in his wife's womb. "Hi baby." Wow, that was a big surprise.

950: Brian Stokes Mitchell narrates a very weird living montage. What the hell were they thinking? Hal Prince, though, couldn't be there in person thanks to his Vegas PHANTOM. "I'm a lucky guy." And now we have to hear "Music of the Night" and haha! This abriged version confuses Howard McGillin as the orchestra went where he didn't. That was awkward. REALLY awkward.

1000: The inevitable Julia Roberts entrance. "You people are insanely talented people." Well, at least she looked great.

1004: And, of course, it goes to Richard Griffiths in his Broadway debut as THE HISTORY BOYS puts another notch on the wall. "In all those years I have never been able to, with a sweep of my arm, address six thousand human beings. It's quite gratifying." Thanks his wife who persuaded him not to quit, "what a clever idea that was."

1011: Kelli O'Hara managed to make quite the switch between PIAZZA and PAJAMA GAME. Wish I had been able to get tickets to that, but it was sold out.

1017: Rita Wilson is making her Broadway debut tomorrow night in CHICAGO? Hrmph. Musical Revival goes to PAJAMA GAME. Interesting - but probably the choice I would have made, too, considering I've seen the other two and didn't want it to go there.

1020: August Wilson/Wendy Wasserstein memorial --> damn! James Earl Jones shows actors how to do a monologue, for sure. Cynthia Nixon, though, should have picked her other, instead of talking to the whole six thousand people. And the memoriam section was so tasteful, as we didn't have the scattered applause that makes the Oscars so atrocious.

1026 (commercial break): I'm not opposed to this non-host evening. In fact, I think it makes a lot of sense. There's no worrying about trying to have enough time for the host to say something funny, come back and entertain the audience, etc. I'll be interested to see what Millie (NYC Entertainment Addict) has to say from her seat inside the awards, but from the comfort of my vacation house bed, I think it's great. It keeps the telecast moving very smoothly.

1030: "If the play isn't worth dying for, maybe it isn't worth writing," Terrence McNally quoted by David Hyde Pierce. Not surprisingly, HISTORY BOYS wins Best Play, underscored (again) by "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered." Alan Bennett himself will accept it. Hmm... usually the producer's job, no? Plus, his bowtie's knocked a bit... at least it's not a clip on! That's the English for you.

1033: Oprah arrives to "celebate (sic) Broadway" and THE COLOR PURPLE... which, offered a really solid musical number. I didn't see the show, but it looks like it might be another cult classic like CAROLINE, OR CHANGE and DESSA ROSE (in style and theme). And this is how you showcase a musical -- LaChanze has her opportunity to "show off" within the confines of a company number. I like that. And she's so beautiful.

1045: Thank you Glenn Close for pronounced Michael Cerveris' name correctly, emphasis on the first syllable. A crazy category - but Young pulled it off as expected. Ben Brantley sit down, I know you're thrilled. These Jersey Boys are a bit self-indulgent, I'm sorry. I don't want to sound terrible, but oh well.

1047: I LOVE BERNADETTE, so much! Goodness, another huge name category, and Chita looks surprised at what show she's in. LaChanze wins it, and Sutton Foster mouths "oh good!" She was very sweet and happy, and I'm very glad she got it... now I just wish I had seen her show.

1055: Broadway legend Julie Andrews in a perfect red dress. What a voice. What a woman. I can't even imagine that voice announcing one's name -- what it must feel like. And the winner is... JERSEY BOYS. Well, like the critics said, the road houses know they'll make a huge buck on it if it wins, so. Sorry, DROWSY. But you won book and score, so, really, you are the best new musical. JERSEY BOYS is the best old musical.

1059: Julie signs off from this "magical night" and asks people to support live theatre. "Here's to the next sixty years." Nothing like ending on time.