Run! Run!

If you're going to be near NYC any time in the next several months, I'd recommend the following two shows I've seen recently:
1) The Drowsy Chaperone - a musical homage to the fluff musicals of the 1920s that's written and staged and performed with such wit and flair that you don't mind that you remember none of the songs. Funny, funny, funny show - from beginning to end. Sutton Foster gives a wonderful performance (would be surprised if she's not Tony nominated for this), and Bob Martin (who also wrote the book) is incredible as "Man In Chair". See this show. Seriously.
2) The Lieutenant of Inishmore - Holy shit. I saw this play this evening. From the nosebleeds. It's brilliantly funny, gory as all hell, it's like Pulp Fiction in Ireland. I cannot recommend it highly enough. If you know me, and you think my twisted sadistic sense of humor is funny, then you should really, really make your way to the Lyceum.

Clap Your Hands Say Blah!

So this past Friday was a busy night out with and our friend Tom - much fun was had by all. Here's a brief recap:
Dinner at Ocha (Japanese food on Restaurant Row) was excellent. I'm not much for Japanese usually, but we had a great time, the food was good, and we got out for less than $80 for the three of us. Not too shabby. (The sushi there is supposed to be alright, but I was a wuss and stuck with tuna rolls and tempura. Hooray wasabi!)

Off to the Lyceum Theatre for the first preview of The Caine Mutiny. Keeping in mind that this is the first preview, I can forgive the minor line flubs and mistakes, and the couple of moments where it seemed somebody went up on their lines (that's always a fun second or two, watching the actors exchange glances, each expecting the other to deliver a line). However, I don't remember this play being so funny. Each witness who took the stand, particularly those testifying for the prosecution in the latter stages of the first act, was some sort of character having some sort of schtick. To me, this seems to completely counter the argument that the play is trying to make. The play seems to be an indictment of those who would write fiction criticizing the war (WWII) and those who fought it, particularly the men in the "regular" military (as opposed to those in the reserves, or those who were drafted). In any event, the lack of tension in the first act negatively impacts what should be an extremely tense second act. I thought David Schwimmer did a good job resisting the urge to be funny, and he's really not a bad choice for the role. Zeljko Ivanek is alright as Queeq, he makes a nice transformation under pressure - a slightly different performance than Bogart's (to say the least).

From the Lyceum, we ventured out to the Bowery Ballroom for Clap Your Hands, Say Yeah. I'm a big fan of their CD (thanks ) and I thought they might be fun to see live. And the tickets were pretty cheap, always a good thing. By the time we got there, the second opening act was winding down, a band featuring a trumpet, a clarinet (both played poorly), a xylophone, and (for their final song) all the members wearing what looked like Mary-Kate (or Ashley) Olsen masks. They kinda sucked. So Clap Your Hands get on stage, and they're alright. The music is oddly similar to the studio recordings. I'm not saying they were using a backing track or anything, but usually a live show sounds a lot different than the CD. It just wasn't there for me. And then there were the other concertgoers. Let's just say that the show wasn't sponsored by Head and Shoulders. Or Right Guard. Young 20 somethings from Williamsburg so desperate to be cool. A good 70% of the men had gone through their closets to find their most ironic t-shirt for the occasion. Women were divided between trying to look like Natalie Merchant (if I see one more white floral print dress on a girl with hips, I'm going to have to say something) or trying to look like boys. But they were having a good time, trying to see who could sing the loudest without actually knowing any of the words. Good times.

So we left there before the end of the show, and I got back to my car in time to get a lower rate on parking. And the three of us had a blast hanging out together all night.

So a good time was had by all!

Long overdue

I saw Franz Ferdinand and Death Cab For Cutie at the Tweeter Center in scenic Camden last weekend.
Franz were again the energetic rocking funsters they were the last time I saw them in October.
This was the first time I saw Death Cab. I've often felt that Death Cab sung pop tunes for kids who cut themselves, and this show was further proof. There were teens aplenty. And there were parents. The entire row behind us seemed like the Real Housewives of Bucks County.
Death Cab were good, though I probably wouldn't see them again. I don't care how hard you hit your drums, high much you jump up and down during the songs, or if you're from Seattle - you ain't grunge. You ain't heavy. And maybe one of these days it wouldn't hurt to write a happy song. Something that you can do for an encore, as opposed to the current bummerfest choices, "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" and "Transatlantacism". Kids cheered as they heard the first chords of "I Will Follow You Into The Dark". Upon seeing the incredulous look on my face, my pal Tom said, "It's their suicide pact song."
Also - the fans are kind of annoying. All the camera phones and digital cameras being shoved up in the air in front of my face the whole time. Damn kids think that if they don't have a picture, they weren't really at the show.

Erin's my new favorite sister!

My sister Erin gave me a book for Christmas this year. We don't usually exchange gifts, and considering that I'd gotten her nothing, this year was no different. It was a her copy of a book that she and her man (the brilliant Todd of Railroad Earth fame) had both enjoyed tremendously, but she couldn't think of anyone else that might like it other than me.
I was in the middle of three other books or whatnots at the time, so I put this one to the side for the time being, vowing to get to it. It's rare that someone gives me books as a gift (I give them often), and I think the kind of book you give someone says a lot about what kind of person you think they are.

The book is Ship of Gold in the Deep Blue Sea by Gary Kinder (Buy me!) and I've just spent the last 3 hours finishing it.
It's the true account of an Gold Rush era shipwreck and the attempted salvage of the ship's contents in the 1980s. If Tom Clancy novels are you sort of thing, read this book. If you enjoy a good yarn about good people doing great things, read this book. It's a fascinating snapshot of the time of the wreck, a techno-thriller race between rivals, and an informative peek into a revolution in deep sea exploration.
Mind you - I don't like any of these things. At least I didn't think I did.
But I loved this book.
Now I have to email Erin...

Mind you , I prefer the alternative...

but being stuck at home these days has led to a great appreciation for the sport of curling.
It's fascinating. It's a strange melange of shuffleboard, chess, and bocce. On ice. I'm addicted. I just wish the little girls on Team USA weren't a bunch of chokers. They're so perky and cute. And of course, one of the girls is the obligatory pudgy friend. They would be a great reality show that nobody'd watch.
And women's hockey. Team USA's captain, Krissy Wendell, has moves and hands that remind me of Denis Savard. She humbles all men.
Now that men's hockey has started, the 7AM - 5PM area of my day has a purpose. I go through the job boards and apply, apply, apply. I do some minor project work for a friend. And I flip around on NBC's coverage of the Olympics. (The daytime coverage is a billion times better than the primetime stuff. Sure, they're only showing curling, biathlon, and hockey, but it's all live and you don't have to put up with too much "Up Close and Personal" bullshit. It's all action, baby.)

As some of you know, I was laid off a week and a half ago, in a maneuver as cunning as anything on Survivor. I only wish I was carrying a torch when it happened.
In any event, I have been furiously submitting resumes to potential employers, most of them online. I have become very tired of admitting that I'm a white male and I'm not disabled, and no, I'm not a veteran.
I wish they'd abolish the Equal Opportunity laws just to save me the extra mouse clicks. Geez.
(Of course, this post was prompted when I had to redo an entire submission because I closed my web browser before answering the additional page of EEO questions. Dur.)

Every fiber of my being....

wishes that I was still working in NYC -
so I could waste an evening and $15 going to see Heddatron!<\a>