A Million Little Pieces

James Frey is crazy. His A MILLION LITTLE PIECES has been quite the talk of the nation lately, that is, if you consider the OPRAH show the nation, which, coincidentally, many people do. Okay, lots of commas there, so in homage to James, maybe I'll write the rest of this post as if it were part of his book. Ready?

Spoilers ahead: okay so i read the book because i saw it in the store
and figured it would be fun to read. it was on the Best Seller List
at the Times and was sponsored by oprah so why not read it the book
the greatest book in the world right? Turns out well it was already
the fact but maybe it was just the first time the very first instance
that I (me -- a common man) would have the chance the opportunity the
option to decide for myself if it was in fact the greatest book in
the world. OK so I read it and the beginning maybe the first third
or one quarter of the book was good and exciting. I was interested to
read something so new so fresh and really so old-fashioned in style
like a diary like those exercises in writing class where you write
stream of consciousness. OK so that was fine and his characters were
fine and all.
And then there was that night he appeared on LARRY KING. And She
called in- her the Queen Her Majesty of Talk - Oprah. I read no i
heard about it the next day and still I continued to read the book
but maybe this was the cause for Me to think, Oh! i don't really like
this middle section. but then I fell in love with the way He wrote
about the end of the book the memoir as he called it the love affair
with the beautiful lilly. And then I finished it and read about
Lilly and her suicide on the final pages and almost cried myself to
sleep.
I almost cried myself to sleep.
Cry.
Think.
Wish.
Wonder.
And then i woke up and went to work and caught a few minutes of
television the Oprah show the nation as some people feel it to be.
And He was there James the Man who wrote the Book who caught Me by
surprise and She was lambasting him.
Attacking Him the Writer. Bashing. Killing. Punching. Finishing.
But it was fine because I had already finished the book and was
beginning the other one my new book my the Man in the White Suit. So
there.

Bits and Pieces

Lincoln Center is producing a new musical this spring based on Lorca's THE HOUSE OF BERNARDA ALBA starring Phylicia Rashad, written by Michael John LaChiusa and directed by Graciela Daniele. See it and tell me about it... I won't be able to get there between February 11 and April 9. Damn.

LCT's other show from last season is out finally on CD: Dessa Rose. Buy it.

GREY'S ANATOMY is out on DVD this Valentine's Day. Get it.

Memoirs of a Geisha is beautifully done. Really a great film: see it.

Pictures coming soon, I promise.

Girls [to delight you and drive you crazy]

What's the deal with girls? So, I'm not complaining, they're essential to the life processes that have evolved on this planet. And often they're really nice, cute, friendly, etc. etc. But they can be so weird. These two girls who I'm living with right now are crazy. Last night, for the Golden Globes, they spent about half an hour getting dressed, putting on perfumes and makeup, buying sparkling cider and putting on hosiery and heels... all to sit in recliners in the living room with the rest of us who were in our comfy sweat pants and the like. What's the deal?

Plus, I think I've figured out what to do with my life. But [add thick Ricky Ricardo accent here] I cannot tell you because then I would have to kill you [end accent]. Any guesses on how I am gonna pay dem bills?

PSH WINS!

See CAPOTE now! Don't even eat first. Go now.

Sore in Georgia

I am an actor. I've spent the past two weeks in rehearsals for ROMEO AND JULIET. The past two days were spent in busy 9-hour blocks of swashbuckling and swordplay as Tybalt (as I have come to find out) gets no break. He fights damn near everyone in the gd play, aside from Juliet. Sheesh. So, this afternoon I sit listening to the sounds of the washing machine cleaning my fourteen day high pile of dirty laundry, connected to this impossibly slow dial-up internet connection, watching some movies on what looks like an Edward Norton themed afternoon on USA. My back is sore, my sides are sore, my arms are sore, my legs are sore -- goodness.

MUNICH is brilliant. See it. Very compelling and intense.

Walmart had movies for $7.50 this week, so I bought THE PRODUCERS (the original one) and SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (the great one). Looking forward to watching those.

I love the weather in the south. Who wouldn't want to spend a January afternoon walking outside in the 70 degree sunshine?

I feel, perhaps because of the praise offered by Mimi, a feeling of inferiority, of lousy-ness in my writing today. I'm ashamed of this post and beg you to erase it from your memory now. Perhaps things will be better in the morning.

I'm Back, Baby

Back from hiatus (isn't that a fun word?), I enjoyed the holidays, spent time with family and friends, drank Tom & Jerry's, kissed under the missletoe (how is that spelled?), saw some snow, got a new scarf and then jetted out of the cold to warm-ish Georgia, where the wireless internet does not abound. So, bloggers, updates will perhaps be brief, and/or scarce, however, the teamsters have settled with JJ and we're back on track. Expect fun and foul-play soon enough.

That's Beedow, live from just outside Atlanta, GA. Y'all hear?