(credit goes to Emily for the title of the post)
There's something hypnotizing about this place. You forget yourself walking around here. In a sense this is a big American metropolis like any other, but the people on the streets don't seem to be striving for something else, something out-of-reach. California is a destination, the sought-after land of milk and honey, of manifest destiny, the call of gold in the hills. It's appropriate to me that it's always earlier over here too. When Chicagoans wake up for work, San Franciscans are sleeping soundly, and when New Yorkers retire to bed, Californians have three hours over eternally temperate evening to enjoy.
However, what's missing for me is the sense of urgency that keeps one striving to push on and achieve something great. Also, when it's cold and rainy, or dry and blistering, or snowing and windy, it reminds me I'm alive. Perhaps this is appealing to my Midwestern, who am I to find something better? Lake Wobegon mentality, but as horrible as last winter was in Chicago, I don't know what I'd do with a winter without snow.
Come Back From San Francisco - the Magnetic Fields
Rock over St. Paul, Rock on Minneapolis
Staples - yeah, we've got that
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Chicago (but I was Afraid to Post)
How is the Theatre in Chicago?
Bustlin'. Obviously, Chicago is a huge theatre city and, while District of Columbians like to say the title goes to them, one could argue it's second-biggest theatre city in America (first being New York City).. I must say, however, that I saw a couple of stinkers in Chicago. This, however, makes me think it would be easier to break into theatre there and, considering at least two shows currently on Broadway are Chicago transplants, as well as the biggest hit of last season (August Osage County), Chicago could also be a gateway to New York. Wishful thinking.
I saw my first production of Death of a Salesman, and it didn't make the impression on me that Virginia Woolf did. The set was heavy and masterfully built -- at curtain, it was the front of a house, which Willy Loman pulled open like barn doors, each side rotating on a turntable, revealing the interior of the house -- but the set eclipsed the performances in a truly acting-driven play. However, with a sparse set, the performances would have fallen flat on their own. The actor playing Biff pulled off some nice moments in the climax of the show, but it felt mostly miscast over all. Willy Loman was a grinning little wiener, and played the role as completely nuts from open to close.
An original adaptation of the novel The Man Who Was Thursday was another problematic production I saw. Presented mostly in one room, where two cast droogs had the audience rise at times to reset the benches to accommodate the staging of the subsequent scene somewhere else in the room. The innovative staging was interesting, though slow and sloppy at times, and many of the scenes, pressed against walls in the small space or in direct contact with the the light and sound table made me wonder if it was worth the adventurous staging. Another problem in the production was the forced combination of high-minded, often philosophical text, and silly, light-hearted whimsy. The clever script was written entirely in heightened language, much of which was lost by some of the weaker performers, one terrible British accent, and the guerrilla-attack nature in which the show began (in the lobby, before we were seated). If there was subtler humor or wordplay in the script, it was eclipsed by performances ranging from dead-serious realist to cartoonishly over-the-top silliness and by era-spanning costumes ranging from Cyrano de Bergerac-ish to Al Caponesque. They all wore Converse All-Stars. If these motley costumes were an artistic choice, the reasoning of the designer was not clear. From beginning to end, I never knew how seriously I was supposed to take the performance. Usually, if the entire cast donned Chuck Taylors, I'd think not too seriously, but the script suggested otherwise. In the end, the most engaging part of this production was the story, which is to be credited to novelist G. K. Chesterton, assuming the playwright remained mostly true to the original story. However, it was engaging enough that I would happily see another production, in the hands of another company.
The playwright who combines high language, philosophical thought, and very silly humor with unmatched mastery is Tom Stoppard, whose 2005 translation (Heroes) of Gérald Sibleyras' play (titled in its original French The Wind in the Poplars) had all the wit, heart and charm of any Stoppard original. It was a fantastic production, with two outstanding performances, and despite cheesy set and sound designs, and a very perplexing stagehand in a nun's habit who did the scene changes in low light, the production stood out as one of the finest I've seen so far.
What about Chicago comedy?
Chicago is the top of the list of cities to go to for improv and sketch. Both Second City and iO (the birthplace of longform improv comedy) are centered in Chicago, along with several other venues specifically geared towards sketch and improv, including the Playground, the Annoyance theater, and Chemically Imbalanced Comedy.
How is the deck stacked for Chicago?
It's all in Chicago's favor, I've come to realize. On the Theatre Scene/Comedy Scene matrix, I think Chicago is number 1. Maybe New York is number 1, but when you add the third dimension of cost of living, Chicago very easily takes the lead over New York. Then still once you venture into the fourth dimension of convenience, it's a cheap train ride back to Michigan, I have one, count 'em, one sister living there, and I've already got an oral contract with a friend who will find a place to live with me.
...
I'm in San Francisco, it's 62 degrees, and I'm talking about moving to Chicago.
Rock over Chicago, Rock over Frisco
United Airlines, It's Time to Fly (this is not an endorsement of United, they're terrible)
Also, I have one sweet picture from Chicago that I'll post soon
Bustlin'. Obviously, Chicago is a huge theatre city and, while District of Columbians like to say the title goes to them, one could argue it's second-biggest theatre city in America (first being New York City).. I must say, however, that I saw a couple of stinkers in Chicago. This, however, makes me think it would be easier to break into theatre there and, considering at least two shows currently on Broadway are Chicago transplants, as well as the biggest hit of last season (August Osage County), Chicago could also be a gateway to New York. Wishful thinking.
I saw my first production of Death of a Salesman, and it didn't make the impression on me that Virginia Woolf did. The set was heavy and masterfully built -- at curtain, it was the front of a house, which Willy Loman pulled open like barn doors, each side rotating on a turntable, revealing the interior of the house -- but the set eclipsed the performances in a truly acting-driven play. However, with a sparse set, the performances would have fallen flat on their own. The actor playing Biff pulled off some nice moments in the climax of the show, but it felt mostly miscast over all. Willy Loman was a grinning little wiener, and played the role as completely nuts from open to close.
An original adaptation of the novel The Man Who Was Thursday was another problematic production I saw. Presented mostly in one room, where two cast droogs had the audience rise at times to reset the benches to accommodate the staging of the subsequent scene somewhere else in the room. The innovative staging was interesting, though slow and sloppy at times, and many of the scenes, pressed against walls in the small space or in direct contact with the the light and sound table made me wonder if it was worth the adventurous staging. Another problem in the production was the forced combination of high-minded, often philosophical text, and silly, light-hearted whimsy. The clever script was written entirely in heightened language, much of which was lost by some of the weaker performers, one terrible British accent, and the guerrilla-attack nature in which the show began (in the lobby, before we were seated). If there was subtler humor or wordplay in the script, it was eclipsed by performances ranging from dead-serious realist to cartoonishly over-the-top silliness and by era-spanning costumes ranging from Cyrano de Bergerac-ish to Al Caponesque. They all wore Converse All-Stars. If these motley costumes were an artistic choice, the reasoning of the designer was not clear. From beginning to end, I never knew how seriously I was supposed to take the performance. Usually, if the entire cast donned Chuck Taylors, I'd think not too seriously, but the script suggested otherwise. In the end, the most engaging part of this production was the story, which is to be credited to novelist G. K. Chesterton, assuming the playwright remained mostly true to the original story. However, it was engaging enough that I would happily see another production, in the hands of another company.
The playwright who combines high language, philosophical thought, and very silly humor with unmatched mastery is Tom Stoppard, whose 2005 translation (Heroes) of Gérald Sibleyras' play (titled in its original French The Wind in the Poplars) had all the wit, heart and charm of any Stoppard original. It was a fantastic production, with two outstanding performances, and despite cheesy set and sound designs, and a very perplexing stagehand in a nun's habit who did the scene changes in low light, the production stood out as one of the finest I've seen so far.
What about Chicago comedy?
Chicago is the top of the list of cities to go to for improv and sketch. Both Second City and iO (the birthplace of longform improv comedy) are centered in Chicago, along with several other venues specifically geared towards sketch and improv, including the Playground, the Annoyance theater, and Chemically Imbalanced Comedy.
How is the deck stacked for Chicago?
It's all in Chicago's favor, I've come to realize. On the Theatre Scene/Comedy Scene matrix, I think Chicago is number 1. Maybe New York is number 1, but when you add the third dimension of cost of living, Chicago very easily takes the lead over New York. Then still once you venture into the fourth dimension of convenience, it's a cheap train ride back to Michigan, I have one, count 'em, one sister living there, and I've already got an oral contract with a friend who will find a place to live with me.
...
I'm in San Francisco, it's 62 degrees, and I'm talking about moving to Chicago.
Rock over Chicago, Rock over Frisco
United Airlines, It's Time to Fly (this is not an endorsement of United, they're terrible)
Also, I have one sweet picture from Chicago that I'll post soon
Friday, October 16, 2009
Small World part II And Requests for Pictures
Thus is Ryan Douglass
These are the flipflops he left out for me to shower with
This is Boston, MA
I've seen a three plays here, as I did in NY and DC, and now I'ma gonna talk about 'em! The first show I saw was A Long and Winding Road at the Calderwood Pavillion, pictured below.
This production was an autobiographical one-woman show effortlessly performed by the Oscar-winning musician Maureen McGovern, loosely about coming to terms with turning 60 years old. The narrative was loose, meandering and anecdotal, but the 60's and 70's era songs arranged for the production she sang beautifully and for almost 2 hours without an intermission. The scenic design was a slew of projections cast onto flowing gray silks at the back of the stage and coming from the wings, which gave the audience something to look at other than the performer as she plodded through her blocking, but it was not enough to keep the audience engaged. Mostly pictures of her in her youth, laced with iconic people and events of the time. Biggest disappointment - not featured in the production is the song from which the show gets its title.
The next production I saw was Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? at the same theatre complex as Road but in a small black box venue. This is the only production of the landmark Albee play I've seen, and my God was I impressed. The actors playing George and Martha captured a unique dynamic of a couple who've been together for thirty years and exercised a constant power struggle of who's smarter, stronger and better. As if eclipsed by the former, the actors playing Nick and Honey paled in ability. And while little is required of Honey, a cypher of a character who spends much time off-stage throwing up brandy and a fair amount of her onstage time being shushed by the rest of the cast, the gravity of Nick's role could not be so easily passed off by an amateur. However, all considered, I would strongly recommend seeing this production! This goes to my expansive group followers in the New England area.
Finally, I saw 2.5 Minute Ride last night at the Arsenal Center for the Arts in Watertown. To those unfamiliar with it, 2.5 Minute Ride is one of the solo performance pieces written by Kalamazoo College Theatre Alum and poster child Lisa Kron, whose successful Tony-nominated Well landed her a teaching job at Yale, despite having never received her undergraduate degree for lack of one science credit. Much to my surprise upon reading the program did I find that the Artistic Director at the Theatre and the performer filling in for Lisa were both Kalamazoo College graduates as well. Small damn world. The production was good, though it seems strange to me to have someone step in to play the playwright in such a personal piece. The difference with Well, I would argue, is that the play already deals with themes of identity and has actors playing their characters as well as themselves at times. The production was good but left me longing to see a production starring Lisa herself.
Rock over Cambridge, Rock on Allston (where I bought a second-hand coat yesterday)
ABC Warehouse, the Closest Thing to Wholesale
These are the flipflops he left out for me to shower with
This is Boston, MA
I've seen a three plays here, as I did in NY and DC, and now I'ma gonna talk about 'em! The first show I saw was A Long and Winding Road at the Calderwood Pavillion, pictured below.
This production was an autobiographical one-woman show effortlessly performed by the Oscar-winning musician Maureen McGovern, loosely about coming to terms with turning 60 years old. The narrative was loose, meandering and anecdotal, but the 60's and 70's era songs arranged for the production she sang beautifully and for almost 2 hours without an intermission. The scenic design was a slew of projections cast onto flowing gray silks at the back of the stage and coming from the wings, which gave the audience something to look at other than the performer as she plodded through her blocking, but it was not enough to keep the audience engaged. Mostly pictures of her in her youth, laced with iconic people and events of the time. Biggest disappointment - not featured in the production is the song from which the show gets its title.
The next production I saw was Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? at the same theatre complex as Road but in a small black box venue. This is the only production of the landmark Albee play I've seen, and my God was I impressed. The actors playing George and Martha captured a unique dynamic of a couple who've been together for thirty years and exercised a constant power struggle of who's smarter, stronger and better. As if eclipsed by the former, the actors playing Nick and Honey paled in ability. And while little is required of Honey, a cypher of a character who spends much time off-stage throwing up brandy and a fair amount of her onstage time being shushed by the rest of the cast, the gravity of Nick's role could not be so easily passed off by an amateur. However, all considered, I would strongly recommend seeing this production! This goes to my expansive group followers in the New England area.
Finally, I saw 2.5 Minute Ride last night at the Arsenal Center for the Arts in Watertown. To those unfamiliar with it, 2.5 Minute Ride is one of the solo performance pieces written by Kalamazoo College Theatre Alum and poster child Lisa Kron, whose successful Tony-nominated Well landed her a teaching job at Yale, despite having never received her undergraduate degree for lack of one science credit. Much to my surprise upon reading the program did I find that the Artistic Director at the Theatre and the performer filling in for Lisa were both Kalamazoo College graduates as well. Small damn world. The production was good, though it seems strange to me to have someone step in to play the playwright in such a personal piece. The difference with Well, I would argue, is that the play already deals with themes of identity and has actors playing their characters as well as themselves at times. The production was good but left me longing to see a production starring Lisa herself.
Rock over Cambridge, Rock on Allston (where I bought a second-hand coat yesterday)
ABC Warehouse, the Closest Thing to Wholesale
Monday, October 12, 2009
Small World
Since arriving in Boston, I've passed two Kalamazoo College graduates on the street and run into an astonishing number of Ryan's Boston acquaintances. This certainly lends credence to his often unbelievably coincidental stories. However, the strangest encounter I've had so far was at a quaint festival in Cambridge. Ryan and I were discussing the evening's plans over free cans of Venom energy drink -- which comes in a grenade-shaped bottle and tastes like industrial runoff -- when someone tapped me on the arm. The guy, who I would later find out is named Chris, I had met less than a week earlier on 54th street and Broadway in the heart of the theatre district in Manhattan. He was passing out fliers about the 39 Steps, and as I was planning on seeing it already, I stopped to talk to him. He told me he was living in NY and trying to make it as an actor, when I told him I was doing the same thing, he suggested finding a job (like the one he was doing) that had amply flexible hours so one could take off a day at the last minute to do an audition or even a full week to fly out to LA. He was visiting a friend at Boston University and happened to run into me in Cambridge. He told me it's happened before, once with a woman in Montreal. I'm pretty sure I was pretty uncool about the whole thing because it was just so weird to run into that guy again, I couldn't believe it.
Many parts of Boston remind me of the city layout in Strasbourg, France. Narrow, winding brick roads leading up and down hills, where a side street that seemed an unassuming alleyway would prove to be an offshoot of more interesting shops and cafes. However, of course no American city would match the class of Europe's beautiful burgs: I told Ryan it was like a bunch of Americans had forcibly overtaken a French village.
Big thanks to Chris for his help! Listen to Robby Roadsteamer at Roadsteamer.com
Rock over Boston, Rock over LA (sorry Red Sox)
Motel 6, We'll leave a light on for you
Many parts of Boston remind me of the city layout in Strasbourg, France. Narrow, winding brick roads leading up and down hills, where a side street that seemed an unassuming alleyway would prove to be an offshoot of more interesting shops and cafes. However, of course no American city would match the class of Europe's beautiful burgs: I told Ryan it was like a bunch of Americans had forcibly overtaken a French village.
Big thanks to Chris for his help! Listen to Robby Roadsteamer at Roadsteamer.com
Rock over Boston, Rock over LA (sorry Red Sox)
Motel 6, We'll leave a light on for you
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Making a Go of It
In the past few days I've had a chance to meet with a few friends and friends of friends to discuss the ins and outs of trying to get by as an actor in NYC. Lisa's friend Alena talked to me about the pros and cons of joining Actor's Equity immediately or biding your time, as well as where to find a flexible job that will let you take off time for auditions, rehearsals and shows. (This was reinforced by an actor I met on the street working one of those jobs; handing out fliers for the show The 39 Steps, which was a very fun and silly spoof of the Alfred Hitchcock movie) Then I met up with my old friend Mike from Middle School who's just been cast in a two-month tour of Seussical.
As I was leaving meeting with him, I got a call from another old friend, Bryon, who had heard about a movie that was looking to cast a college-aged lovable dumbass, and were scouring the agentless, unrepresented fresh faces for someone they hadn't seen before. 14 hours later I was reading for the role of Jerry, in White Irish Drinkers, written by John Gray, creator of the Jennifer Love Hewitt vehicle The Ghost Whisperer. The character is described as Zach Galifianakis-esque. He's a college dropout who is excited to become a garbage man, for the perks and benefits. They were impressed that I had memorized the side in less than a day and I think they chuckled softly once or twice! Just like that I've got an NY audition and a film audition under my belt.
As I was leaving meeting with him, I got a call from another old friend, Bryon, who had heard about a movie that was looking to cast a college-aged lovable dumbass, and were scouring the agentless, unrepresented fresh faces for someone they hadn't seen before. 14 hours later I was reading for the role of Jerry, in White Irish Drinkers, written by John Gray, creator of the Jennifer Love Hewitt vehicle The Ghost Whisperer. The character is described as Zach Galifianakis-esque. He's a college dropout who is excited to become a garbage man, for the perks and benefits. They were impressed that I had memorized the side in less than a day and I think they chuckled softly once or twice! Just like that I've got an NY audition and a film audition under my belt.
Monday, October 5, 2009
I'm Alive, I'm Alive, I Am So Alive
My time in New York is more than half over now. I just got home from seeing my second show. The first, which I saw yesterday as a Sunday matinee, was Eye of God by Tim Blake Nelson (Delmar from O, Brother, Where Art Thou?) which was lacking is so many fields. I believe the production would be considered off-Broadway (the venue contained 99-500 seats) but the facility, the seats the quality of the set were all great. However, the design was impractical and some of it was very poorly executed. A landscape printed on a cyc that comprised half the scenery was pixely and the positioning of the tables and chairs were huge sightline issues. Particular favorites of mine were when one character referred to his new cash register, then proceeded to slap around blindly offstage while cash register noises played and the classic phone hung on the wall by a bracket with its chord TIED TO IT making no attempt to disguise it as real.
At the end of the first act, it is revealed that the main character gets killed. The rest of the show is a plodding march towards the event actually occurring. The 12-year-old kid in the play wanted me to slip into a coma, as did the fresh blood stains on his shirt, which were clearly dry and dye. This was interesting to see just how ubiquitous bad theatre is; existing even here in the heart of commercia Americanl theatre. (Brief side note: there is a show out called Rock of Ages which is some juke box musical featuring all the classic rock songs you here blaring out of tow trucks and construction sites. Plot? I doubt there is one, but this might be Jon Reeves' new favorite show)
Now the show I just got home from is the talk of the town. It's called Next to Normal. While the story really grasped me only in a few particular instances, it did it very well, but much of the story arc didn't resonate with me -- perhaps because my student rush ticket was in the very first row and I could only pick out 1/5 of the stage at a time to focus on and anything occurring on the top two levels of the set were secrets kept from me. A perfectly-timed standing ovation might've left a bowing actor with a bloody nose. Seriously. However, the true heart of this piece was the performances as well as the subject matter they tackled, which I found particularly germain in a world of reliance on the uncertain field pharmo-psychology.
After the the show, I shook one actor's hand and told him it must be a dream come true. He agreed, and stared me in the eye and gave me a long firm handshake like I was interviewing him for a job. I hope he thinks about that, what I said to him though, because what he's doing is the dream of so many people, myself included, and it's something to keep in perspective and be grateful for.
At the end of the first act, it is revealed that the main character gets killed. The rest of the show is a plodding march towards the event actually occurring. The 12-year-old kid in the play wanted me to slip into a coma, as did the fresh blood stains on his shirt, which were clearly dry and dye. This was interesting to see just how ubiquitous bad theatre is; existing even here in the heart of commercia Americanl theatre. (Brief side note: there is a show out called Rock of Ages which is some juke box musical featuring all the classic rock songs you here blaring out of tow trucks and construction sites. Plot? I doubt there is one, but this might be Jon Reeves' new favorite show)
Now the show I just got home from is the talk of the town. It's called Next to Normal. While the story really grasped me only in a few particular instances, it did it very well, but much of the story arc didn't resonate with me -- perhaps because my student rush ticket was in the very first row and I could only pick out 1/5 of the stage at a time to focus on and anything occurring on the top two levels of the set were secrets kept from me. A perfectly-timed standing ovation might've left a bowing actor with a bloody nose. Seriously. However, the true heart of this piece was the performances as well as the subject matter they tackled, which I found particularly germain in a world of reliance on the uncertain field pharmo-psychology.
After the the show, I shook one actor's hand and told him it must be a dream come true. He agreed, and stared me in the eye and gave me a long firm handshake like I was interviewing him for a job. I hope he thinks about that, what I said to him though, because what he's doing is the dream of so many people, myself included, and it's something to keep in perspective and be grateful for.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
You Look Like That Guy Who Died Recently...
I've been told I look like three celebrities in my time: Brian Dennehy, Robin Williams, and Ludwig von Beethoven. As of this morning, add to the list Patrick Swayze. Thoughts on that?
Below are two skylines you can see from the room of Lisa's apartment. Here's Brooklyn...
and here's Manhattan...
and here's breakfast muffins! Pumpkin Apple Walnut and Carrot Blueberry Sour Cream from Blue Sky Muffins.
So I'm 22 now. I had quite the Seinfeld night last night. I was with Lisa, house sitting, and in one night, we broke two glasses, flooded the basement twice trying to take advantage of free laundry machines and opened a bottle of the homeowner's wine. Also, we left a Taboo card on his desk that had "John F. Kennedy, jr." on one side and "Hustler" on the other.
Being 22 is much like being 21, but I no longer feel like I'm barely eking by when someone checks my ID. I bought a $4 6-pack at Trader Joe's and the woman at the counter said happy birthday to me and told me to tell my friends to get me drunk. This responsibility falls squarely on the shoulders of Lisa and Joe, according to the Facebook event.
Lisa and I were saying that once you turn 21, there are no more exciting ages to turn. The only ones we could come up with were 25 - rent a car, which I might not be able to afford and 35 - run for president, which most definitely won't be able to afford. Also, listing other exciting ages, when we got to 18, she said "you can vote" and I said "you can smoke" at the same time. Hardeeharhar
Happy birthday to Kevin Richardson, Gwen Stefani, Gore Vidal and Neve Campbell
A Beautiful Night in Oslo - Billie the Vision & the Dancers
When Yer 22 - The Flaming Lips
I Want it that Way - the Backstreet Boys
Hollaback Girl - Gwen Stafani (ft. Gore Vidal)
Thanks to Lisa, Ryan, Nicole and Nicole for hanging out with me on my birthday so far!
Rock over Brooklyn, Rock on Chicago
AT&T - Your world, delivered
Below are two skylines you can see from the room of Lisa's apartment. Here's Brooklyn...
and here's Manhattan...
and here's breakfast muffins! Pumpkin Apple Walnut and Carrot Blueberry Sour Cream from Blue Sky Muffins.
So I'm 22 now. I had quite the Seinfeld night last night. I was with Lisa, house sitting, and in one night, we broke two glasses, flooded the basement twice trying to take advantage of free laundry machines and opened a bottle of the homeowner's wine. Also, we left a Taboo card on his desk that had "John F. Kennedy, jr." on one side and "Hustler" on the other.
Being 22 is much like being 21, but I no longer feel like I'm barely eking by when someone checks my ID. I bought a $4 6-pack at Trader Joe's and the woman at the counter said happy birthday to me and told me to tell my friends to get me drunk. This responsibility falls squarely on the shoulders of Lisa and Joe, according to the Facebook event.
Lisa and I were saying that once you turn 21, there are no more exciting ages to turn. The only ones we could come up with were 25 - rent a car, which I might not be able to afford and 35 - run for president, which most definitely won't be able to afford. Also, listing other exciting ages, when we got to 18, she said "you can vote" and I said "you can smoke" at the same time. Hardeeharhar
Happy birthday to Kevin Richardson, Gwen Stefani, Gore Vidal and Neve Campbell
A Beautiful Night in Oslo - Billie the Vision & the Dancers
When Yer 22 - The Flaming Lips
I Want it that Way - the Backstreet Boys
Hollaback Girl - Gwen Stafani (ft. Gore Vidal)
Thanks to Lisa, Ryan, Nicole and Nicole for hanging out with me on my birthday so far!
Rock over Brooklyn, Rock on Chicago
AT&T - Your world, delivered
Thursday, October 1, 2009
The big crazy apple
I got into New York City today by bus and was immediately overwhelmed, despite my knowledge of the city. Coming back to this city is like being hit by a big wave. Sticky buns sticky buns sticky buns. I got some time to look through some free newspapers and check out what sort of shows are coming up, but the reality of New York City is that there is more theatre going on here at any time than a paper can really keep up with. That said, it's not like I'll be able to see anywhere near all of it, so... I'll find some cheaper off-Broadway stuff. Sticky buns sticky buns sticky buns. Also, there are several improv theaters out here, which is something D.C. didn't have to offer, so hopefully I'll be able to check out all of them. Sour cream glaze.
I'm staying with my friend Lisa, a fellow Kalamazoo College graduate Theatre Major who in recent years decided that her true passion is for food. Pictured above is a batch of her pumpkin cinnamon rolls with sour cream glaze that she made for her video cooking blog. Check out her newest post here and be sure to tune in next week, when her special guest will be ME.
Hard Times in New York - Bob Dylan
Talkin' New York - Bob Dylan
Bleeker Street - Simon & Garfunkel
Rock over London, Rock over New York
Stouffer's, nothing comes closer to home
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