Moving right along (as did we).

On Saturday (Could that be right?  *checks calendar*  Yes, Saturday.) we ate at the chi-chi Central Park South eatery Sarabeth's with friends, then took a walk in Central Park, with stops at the Dairy (which is now a purveyor of tourist tat, maps for the lost, and books for the interested) and the Carousel.  Having ( Read more... )

It never rains but it pours.  In this case, plays.  We notice that things are about to close, or friends suggest something they'd like to see, then somebody offers an extra ticket, and what do we say?  "Sorry, we're going out a lot this week, we've got work to do?"  Nooooo.  We say, "Yes, please; we'd love to."  And we do.  That adds up to five ( Read more... )

Hoo boy.  Here come the sexbots.  But, really, that's the name of the play.  And there's a big old rooster on the Playbill to underscore its central (if unexpressed) conceit:  that love relationships are as much like cock fights as they are like anything else, and that, in the end, even the winning cock is nearly as bloody and damaged as the loser ( Read more... )

We have a friend in town from Paris.  She's a medievalist, specializing in the prose Alexander and the way Alexander the Great was depicted in illustrations of the same.  We went to her thesis defense in Paris a few years ago, which was a whole lot more scary than mine was, I'm here to tell you.  Lasted almost all day, open to the public, and the ( Read more... )

"In olden days, a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking.  Now, god knows:  Anything Goes!"

Well, almost.  Even the heavily re-written book we saw last night revolves about a marriage plot, (or two, or three) and the booty calls are all by Moonface Martin's hot redheaded sidekick, Erma (or Oima, in Joel Grey's on-again-off-again ( Read more... )

I'm back from Mexico, where I drafted the new last half of my WIP (all except the last scene, owing to the plane landing before I quite finished writing it, and exhaustion and Real Life taking up all my time since) and talked Writing, Business, and Cowboy Boots pretty much around the clock.  San Miguel de Allende is very beautiful, the Spanish ( Read more... )

Last week, in the company of a good friend from out of town and her mother, we went to Lincoln Center twice.  Once to see War Horse at the Vivian Beaumont, and once to the Metropolitan Opera for The Enchanted Island.

You'd think, wouldn't you, that the two performances couldn't have been more different.  War Horse is a play about a horse and his boy ( Read more... )

In 1998, when New York was still our secondary relationship, we happened to be in town at the same time as Ellen's parents (I think it was probably Passover).  In any case, we took them to see Margaret Edson's Wit at the MCC Theater.  We were sitting up by the ceiling, in little, tiny seats, looking almost directly down on the stage.  What I ( Read more... )

I love Gershwin.  I'm not a big jazz fan in the usual run of things, but I grew up with Rhapsody in Blue and  Porgy and Bess and American in Paris  playing in the background (in repertory with Scott Joplin's rags and Tosca and an album of Hawaiian tourist tat whose title and artist I have blessedly suppressed), so his rhythms and melodies are ( Read more... )

Yesterday, we had a Theatrical Blow-Out:  Two plays in one day.  Our excuse was that Ellen's Israeli publisher, Rani Graf, is in town and loves theatre and we wanted to get together with ellen_datlow and Betsy Mitchell, (plus a little holiday celebration and relaxation).  And there were TDF tix.  We lunched, all together, at a nice Thai place on 9th Ave and ( Read more... )