So, let’s see. I’ve been enjoying my air conditioning when it’s necessary. Eating a lot of salad. Prepping for the cruise.

My own well-being and mental health have been improving. For instance, I ran across something this past week that triggered an old … oh let’s just say issue, I won’t get into details… but I recognized that the weird head space it put me in was something that had happened before about this same thing, and it wasn’t really an issue, other than my reaction to it, and “I have a shrink! I’ll talk to him about it.” which allowed me to put it aside and get on with my day.

I haven’t been power-walking or stretching as much as I’d thought I’d be doing, but in general, I’m feeling better. I’m trying to get on the bike every weekend, but on Sunday, I took the bike down from the wall and, while checking the pressure, realized one of the tires had a little bubble on it, just waiting to explode on a ride. “That’s not good”, I cleverly analyzed. So my ‘bike ride’ was to the bike repair shop in Astoria, and I then walked/subwayed home.

During the week, I’d reached out to the Savoynet costume people with some questions, as I went out to buy the particular kind of dress shirt (we’re all wearing suits as our costumes). My dear friend K suggested that, because of makeup, I’d be better off getting a shirt from a thrift shop. That hadn’t occurred to me, and I’ve already ordered the new nice one, but I think I will pop into thrift shops over the next few weeks to see if I can find one I won’t mind getting dirty. And the good one can be the backup.

All this to say that on Friday afternoon, I went back to Astoria to pick up my bike and run errands. There used to be a Salvation Army store on Steinway Street, but it seems to be gone. There was another thrift store up the block, and they had the kind of thing I was looking for, but not in my size – fine, I’ll keep looking. Grabbed lunch, then picked up my bike. (new tire, also had a tune up) Decided to stop by the cemetery on the way home, it was pretty much on the way. A quick pop-in in exercise clothes while sweating from a bike ride isn’t the ideal reverent state I’d prefer to be in while visiting my husband’s crypt, but, ya know, I will do that too – with time set aside, and a nice outfit, and my wedding ring. Just not that day.

I did a real bike ride today, kind of my ‘traditional’ bike ride that’s usually the first one I do each season. Out to Flushing Meadows, around the park and the lake immediately south of it, and home. Only ten miles, but it was a nice ride. Next week I’ll be on a boat (yay!) but next bike ride, I’ll look at my Runkeeper logs and see what’s a good fifteen miles.

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I got myself out to two more shows this week, both very stupid. One deliberately and hilariously so, one a ‘beloved’ theatrical property given a new life and framing.

Oh, Mary is a play that had run in the Village at the Lucille Lortel and had gotten such great word of mouth, sold out completely. (During drag bingo, Vance, not one for faint praise, had told me it was one of the funniest things he’d ever seen.) Written by and starring Cole Escola, a person I’d never heard of before, but apparently a name in gay circles, it’s a hysterically funny bio-play about Mary Todd Lincoln in the period before her husband’s assassination. (Me to Vance: do I need to know any history to enjoy it? Vance: not at all. The talk show hosts have been asking Escola the same thing – how much research did you do for this? Answer: less than zero.)

Anyway, the play has moved to Broadway for a limited run at the Lyceum, on the same block as my office building, and I thought I should grab a ticket quick in case it sold out again. I went to the office on Wednesday and at lunchtime, snabbed a rush ticket for the first preview (that night) for not a lot of money, go me! I even got a seat on the aisle – I have a neurosis about suddenly needing the bathroom during a show and being trapped – even though that’s not something that happens a lot – but being on the aisle is helpful there. Anyway… I decided to have dinner at Bobby Van’s on the same block – it’s clearly aimed at businessmen with expense accounts, but I’ve been meaning to try it out for years because it’s right there. I had a nice time – I had a caesar salad and a calamari appetizer, both nice. And a really nice cosmopolitan – except the fucking cosmo cost $24. Jeezus. That’s way too much, even for a good drink. (the food was more reasonably priced). So, don’t go on a booze binge at Bobby Van’s.

“Oh Mary” is 80 minutes without intermission, but I was fine getting through it – except I was in the balcony over to the side, sitting next to another fatty in little seats, so we were both squirming throughout trying to get comfortable.

No matter, the show is a hoot and a half. Mary is a drunk who thinks of herself as a former cabaret star and has no interest in what’s going on in the country (a recurring bit is her asking “The South of what!”). She’s rude and a loose cannon and terrifies all those around her. Meanwhile Abraham is trying and failing to squelch his gay urges. And events occur. It felt very much like Charles Busch/Charles Ludlam, in the vein of Vampire Lesbians of Sodom and Psycho Beach Party and The Mystery of Irma Vep – riffs of established genre stories, goofy as hell, and often quite filthy. I was totally there for it. (Oh, Conrad Ricamora, an actor I always enjoy, was Abraham (billed as “Mary’s Husband”) and he was great. Cast of five. This will be super-easy to produce once it’s been released into the wild.

So… recommended!

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Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “CATS” (now and forever!) opened on Broadway (after its initial London run) when I was a sophomore in college. Everyone went bananas for it – lots of talk about how they’d had to completely remodel the theater for accommodate the set, that the choreography was so tough dancers were always out with injuries, and basically, it was an event. At some point, I got familiar with the music, but it didn’t sound like my kind of thing… and I also was advised that, if I could, wait to see it on Broadway, not on tour, because of that transformed theater.

When I moved to NYC in ’94, sure enough, that’s the first show I took myself to see. The production was over a decade old, it was pretty stale – although Liz Callaway was playing Grizabella, so that was cool. I admired the dancing and the stagecraft, and it seemed well-performed (or well-enough), but definitely not a show for me. (I hadn’t necessarily pinned down the reasons not to like it, but an article I’ll post a link to does some great analysis.)

And so that was that. It closed eventually, and I guess regional and amateur groups do it, but no group I’ve ever been associated with came near it, and I’ve never had a desire to seek it out. (Who would I play? Well, Gus or Old Deuteronomy, I guess, but why?) Apparently, there was a revival on Broadway a few years ago which I forgot existed – it didn’t run for very long and I certainly didn’t hear anyone talking about it.

But, quite a while ago now, there was a press announcement that an off-Broadway production was being mounted, setting CATS in the world of ‘ballroom’. Not ballroom dance, but ‘ballroom’ as in Paris is Burning and Madonna’s Vogue. And I immediately thought… OH! Not only could that work, that would be really interesting. Well, it took a while to show up, but it’s now running (as “CATS: The Jellicle Ball”) at the new NYC PAC (immediately north of the World Trade Center memorial pools).

And I was like, I was right, I have to go see this! So I did.

So… how was it?

The production is terrific. I think the ballroom setting really works, and all the performers are fantastic. There was all the duck-walking and death drops a Drag Race lover needs, excellent dancing, some fine looking bodies and gorgeous voices (Muskuntrap, Rum Tum Tugger and Macavity were all particularly, um, enjoyable). The tech – lighting, costumes, etc – was really great and really helped the show. This was the first time I’d seen the great Andre de Shields in anything – he’s riveting on stage, even though he really does not sing well any more. It was particularly fun realizing that sometimes, you had no idea whether the actor was male or female and it just did not matter. Grizabella was an understudy, but quite good. I’ll just make sure here to say it’s absolutely worth your time to go see it.

The show itself remains pretty stupid. I was actually surprised to realize there are parts of the score I really liked – the songs are mostly pretty dumb, but I love the interstitial stuff, like the CATS theme (all that synthesizer, which usually I hate, is perfect for this show) and Grizabella’s theme and that part that sounds like the TRON video game. But one confusing thing about the show for me is often you’ll get a song about a particular cat, but that cat isn’t the one who’s singing the song. So which cat is singing the song about Skimbleshanks, or Gus, or whoever? No idea. (The NYT review summed it up really well for me, the flaws in the storytelling, like who is Jellylorum and why do we care?)

What I hadn’t realized, and maybe it’s not really true, is that the general opinion of CATS (the show) has in fact turned into mockery. What I remember about the 80’s was that queens and theater geeks were so into the show that everyone was naming their actual cats (and dogs and cars, and probably gerbils) after CATS cats.

(A boyfriend: He’s a Russian Blue and I’m calling him Growltiger!
Eric: *rolls eyes*)

Anyway, it’s nice to know that a show that is conceptually flawed (IMHO) can in fact be given a treatment where you can still have a fantastic time at the theater watching it. So again, go see it.

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Enjoy the (short) week! I’m getting on a cruise ship on Thursday!
♫Bon VOYage. You mean, bon voYAHzhuh.