Thursday, June 23, 2005
Sunny and pleasant
New Yorkers had a humorous and welcome respite from living under the constant siege of terror alerts.
Snapple wanted to get into the Guinness Book of World Records, so they created a 35,000 pound strawberry-kiwi Popsicle. The plan was to truck it down to Union Square (around 14th St.) and photograph it, it goes in the book, and there you have it.
Well, the Popsicle wasn’t frozen properly, all the way to the middle.
And it melted.
All over 17th St.
They had to close 17th St.
Cyclists wiped out in the Popsicle mess, and the firefighters, in full turnout gear, brought trucks and hoses to try to hose down the street – as they’re standing up to their knees in strawberry-kiwi lakes.
It was pretty funny.
Especially, as my friend B. says, since we didn’t have to clean it up.
New Yorkers are walking around, giggling with delight and shaking their heads. That’s pretty funny, too. Everyone’s enjoying a Popsicle reprieve from the stress of daily urban life.
Bet you Popsicle sales shoot way up this week.
Managed to get an issue of Widow’s Chamber done yesterday before leaving for the show, which lifted some of the stress I feel.
Shows were okay. Both the passenger elevator and the freight elevators broke during the first act. Fortunately, the racks of heavy clothing were already at stage level. So, instead of bringing them down and switching out rack to reset, we trucked the enormous ball gowns upstairs and hauled costumes needed for the top of the second show down, etc., resetting on the deck instead of in the dressing rooms. It wasn’t that much of a pain – people’s attitudes were more of a pain than the actual work. It was tough on the broken foot, which needed a long session of ice and elevation before the second show, but, other than that, it was fine. It all got done.
Had dinner with two friends at Maison, my favorite French place. As usual, the food was divine (baked salmon sandwich, arugula salad, glass of Merlot).
My two dinner companions are good friends. One of them I’ve known for close to ten years now. They are both dressers, and, like me, they’ve done a good deal of star dressing (taking care of the actor whose name is above the title). Most of their conversation centered on that.
And I had nothing to contribute. I simply sat quietly and enjoyed my meal.
I realized, sitting there, how detached I already am from the business. I may physically still be there, and I’m doing a good job; but, emotionally, I am already elsewhere. I am already in Massachusetts, in my new life, in many ways. Whereas a year or so ago, I would have felt the bittersweet pangs of leaving the business, now I am at peace with it. It’s not that I don’t care about theatre (or my friends), or that I’m not interested in the conversation. It is simply that it is no longer my life. My life is elsewhere, my focus is elsewhere, my energy is elsewhere.
And it’s good.
The physical transition still needs to occur, but at least I don’t feel torn, the way I have for a good deal of the past year.
Elvis has left the building, and I went with him. Who knew?
My colleague was so thrilled with the P-town info packet I provided for her that she told her stage manager to copy it for the company (since their company management people have given them NO information). I’m glad I could help.
Off to the store for a quick restocking of necessities of life: coffee, wine, and cat food.
Then, to write.
For a free issue of any of the above serials, click the appropriate link and download.