This evening I went to see [hear?] the Sydney production of Urinetown. It was great fun and I shall probably have more to say in the morning. For now a story about how I can get myself into awful trouble.
As I was returning to my seat after Interval, I decided to be very brave and try to take a shortcut via the fire escapes. In theory, I should know where I'm going in the theatre in question. It is a very new theatre but this was, perhaps, my fifth visit.
The people who know about my sense of direction are laughing already.
Somehow, I followed the cement passages to where I thought I should be and walked straight out onto upper rear stage where the band / orchestra was located.
I panicked and froze. The stage lights temporarily blinded me. All I could see was a woman in the front rows pointing at me. Rabbit in headlights. Rabbit in headlights.
I thought about it for a moment and said to the lead pianist, "I beg your pardon, I'm lost". I learned the power of saying "I'm lost" and looking at people pathetically in NY.
With absolute composure I turned around as if one one wanders onstage frequently and at will and tried again [with success] for my seat.
george michael is in trouble again. couldn't happen to a more deserving ponce! After all the shit he has given Boy George for being 'too gay' over the years I'd be happy to see his career destroyed. There is, IMO, absolutely no excuse for public sex of this kind in this day and age. As Boy so wisely observed-- 'can't he use a computer'?
why do banks take 48 hours to process a payment TO a credit card while they can deduct money instantaneously?
can anybody explain the difference between an incursion and an invasion? if a tank rolled into my neighborhood i think the semantics would become secondary.
who made that hotel what it was! Pretty soon the only people staying there will be rich boring tourists or Britney Spears.
I am My Own Wife is headed my way in the original production. This review from the .au press has a major spoiler- be careful.
Still depressed at the idea that CBGBs will be gone forever. An example of what happens when one becomes a parody of one's self.
Second Life is an overwhelmingly expansive and conceptually dense virtual world allegedly taking the world by storm. It's worth a look. I suspect that I'm a bit too old to grasp the paradigm.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006 in Carrie's World, Commentary, Cultural History, Current Affairs, Dee Dee, Dumb People, George O'Dowd, Heroes & Icons, Hotel Chelsea, In the Blogosphere, nobody can hear you scream., mailbag, Manhattanophilia, Paranoia, Trash Celebrities | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)