MISCELLANEOUS: QUICK WEEK-END OBSERVATIONS

0

QUICK WEEK-END OBSERVATIONS

 

I’ve had a semi-stressful last four days, but nothing serious. And, I usually find the fun in everything, when possible, so everything was okay. But between Jury Duty and the oddest garage sale ever, here are the only observations I have strength for this morning. (I wrote that last sentence almost three thousand words ago, expecting this column to be brief. The best laid plans…) I’ll go in chronological order.

 

JURY DUTY

 

As you may have read here last Thursday, I got called for Jury Duty on Thursday, in way downtown L.A. Of course, no one really wants to go, unless they’re a student of criminology or law, but it’s our duty, so off I went. For two days! Let me tell you, I feel for the court personnel, especially the judge and attorneys. Voir dire (choosing a jury) is definitely not what they went to school for! Just think of how tedious it is for us potential jurors, and multiply by about a thousand—that’s what those people go through on about a weekly, and sometimes daily, basis, just to try to see justice done.

I luckily had the most adorable, charming, patient, well-spoken, and intelligent judge ever, so it was easy enough. Except for the morons on the potential jury. I swear—I don’t know how justice ever gets done this way. I think being a juror (not to be confused with “jurist,” which I see all the time in writing,) should be a permanent job and the country should have a rotating panel of only very bright, very fair, and very interested individuals, and we—I mean “they”–should decide everything. I’d be really worried if I were on trial and had most of the lummoxes I saw last week as the ones judging my fate.

And I must say that every single person with whom I came in contact, who worked in and around the courthouse, was just wonderful. I’ll tell you about some of them in depth next week, like Amir who runs the Cherry Pick Cafe which saved my life, possibly literally, on the second day. But I have to name some of them now: Marvin, the biggest Mavs fan ever, who runs the jury assembly room and makes orientation fun; Gonzalo who shuttled me back and forth from my car the first day; Gabriel, who picked-up the service the second; and Elyda, who runs the parking lot where I was stationed, are all stand-outs. I don’t’ know how they can be so pleasant day-after-day, but I’m thankful to all of them.

I have some of the funniest stories from there to share, but I believe I have to wait till the trial is over for that. So, hopefully next week I can tell you about the whole thing. I really miss having my show now because I’m sure the stories are funnier verbally than in writing. But I’ll try my best.

 

AMERICAN ADDICT


This one-man show is part of the Hollywood Fringe Festival. [Note: The theatre I went to has a different address than the one on the program, and I’m not familiar with the rest of the festival, so please check out their site for all the info you need: www.hollywoodfringe.org]

Quite honestly, I was exhausted from my two days of Jury Duty, with little sleep in-between, so I don’t feel that I was a great judge of Ricky Butler’s performance of this show he also wrote. And, a man with a huge head, that he kept bopping around, plopped himself down right in front of the low seats in the back row that we had chosen for comfort, (when he had others to choose from,) so I couldn’t see half of it, (especially because Ricky sat-down for much of the show,) so I rather listened to it. (If you sit back there, bring a jacket because we were all freezing.)

But when I could see him, Ricky had a very interesting face, with great lips. (One of the woman I was with kept saying how cute he is.) I went back and forth between picturing him as a killer on something like CSI and thinking he could play a good guy on a soap, either role I’m sure he’d be happy to do.

So, I had to rely on the opinions of others for this one. Most of the assemblage seemed to laugh in the right places, (especially New Yorkers, where this show about an addict takes place,) and at a mere fifty minutes, it’s the correct length for audiences to go enjoy the rest of the Festival. I was told that there will be food trucks there for the duration, which opens officially on June 16th. You can also buy a “Fringe Button” which entitles you to a discount at several area eateries, which are listed in the directory you should receive with your tickets. If you don’t, feel free to request it because the box office of any festival can get overwhelmed.

 

GARAGE SALE

 

Don’t even ask! This wasn’t a garage sale, per se, because it was attached to a neighborhood fair, just down the road a piece. And it was on Sunday, near noon, when everyone with expertise in real garage sales knows that they have to be held on Saturdays and very early.

And, on top of all that, it rained up until a few minutes before we had to set-up! And it was totally freezing out. At least I was outside, which I seriously needed after the two days closed-in, with no windows, in a courthouse. All the employees there should be gifted sun lamps, to alleviate depression from no light! (Can you tell that I’m still living that experience?)

But here’s the strange psychology of the whole thing—because we were outside of the actual goony fair, everyone who walked by was suspicious. They all tried to walk in the street a bit, just to not have to be near the sale items. So weird.

And, it was all new stuff! Nothing even close to being used. With fabulous prices. I just always overbuy and collect. (Okay, please don’t invoke crazy names of reality shows here.) Only a few smart and aware shoppers really seemed to know the value of what they were getting. The younger, the more knowledgable.

So, I didn’t make a lot of money, (there’s shock,) but I had a peaceful, semi-fun time. And I know how to do it better the next time, should I be so crazy.

But one small thing happened that made the entire effort so worthwhile. A beautiful young mother walked by, holding two little angelic blonde girls—one in her arms, the other by hand. The girls looked at my wares while they passing, but there was not much for them—it was more grown-up items.

I asked why one had her face painted and the other didn’t. Long story, but turns-out the other one enjoyed a cookie instead, but the younger one had a terrible food allergy, which I always find so sad. By coincidence, the one children’s book on the table was about a little boy who has food allergies, too. The story is an easy way to explain it better to children who are in this unfortunate situation. The girls wanted the mother to read it to them, so she obliged, and the girls were enrapt.

The mom embarrassedly explained that she didn’t have any cash left on her, so thank goodness, (really!) I told her to take it. I was so beyond-bleary-eyed at that point in the week-end that I almost didn’t think of doing that! I would have been depressed about it for the rest of my life, trust me on this one. The mother kept asking if I was sure, and, of course I was!

So, for a little girl with a somewhat sad condition to get to enjoy a book that’s virtually about her, made my heart sing. And even Mr. X, who usually berates me for all my crazy activities and tells me to just throw-out most of my belongings, was thrilled beyond belief that I went to all the effort of the sale, just for the little bit of happiness that was brought to that family. I’m so glad that that book found the right hands to be placed into. [Note: it’s entitled DJ’s Allergies, should you know anyone else with that predicament.]

 

MAVERICKS WIN!

 

Dirk Nowitzki, Jason Kidd, and Jason Terry.

Congratulations to the Dallas Mavericks for winning their first NBA Championship!!! And in such grand fashion. I’m thrilled for their old guys—Dirk Nowitzki, Jason Kidd, and Jason Terry, who’s shockingly well-spoken, as is Tyson Chandler, one of their younger guys. (Seven of the twelve-man roster were born in the seventies!) I just wish Steve Nash was still with them, so I could relax for the next few years because he’s the one player I still root for.

The best part is that they beat the full-of-themselves Miami Heat, who practically guaranteed a championship this year, before they even had one practice!!! I hate that. I guess LeBron James should have taken his talents to Dallas for the three games they played there, of which the Heat lost two, and almost the other one.

This was one of the best NBA Finals I’ve ever seen! (And trust me, I’ve watched way too many of them.) Every game had us riveted to our seats. Well, except the first one. I’ve always watched every single second of the play-offs, not just the finals, but with me hating the Lakers and the Bulls, and disliking the Heat, I wanted to spare myself the pain this year. When Dallas shockingly showed-up in the Finals, I still had to skip Game One because I figured this series would just be too painful for me. I watched most of game two, in pain the whole time, as predicted, and switched away with four minutes to go and the Mavs down eleven.

A couple of hours later, Mr. X asked, “Hey, who won the game?,” to which I answered, “Who do you think? I’m sure the Heat, but I’ll check to show you.” I was shocked when I saw that the had Mavs won! And I couldn’t believe that I made myself miss it! Thankfully, I found a replay a couple of days later, and was still nervous down the stretch because I kept doubting my knowledge that they had, indeed, won. It was that nerve-wracking an ending.

So, I went back to my practice of watching it all, no matter the outcome. And five more exciting games, overall, you could not find anywhere. (The first one, from the bits I’ve since seen, wasn’t like the next five.)

So once again, I’m so happy for the old guys to triumph, especially Jason Kidd. I used to really dislike him until I met him and he could not have been nicer to me. (And I wasn’t even that cute anymore when I met him, so it wasn’t that.) And, in an interview last week, he was asked if his career would be complete without winning it all. Without batting an eye, he said of course it would and listed, sincerely, all that basketball had done for him, for which he was grateful. That’s the kind-of person you want to see hoist the trophy. And, by the way, in the post-win celebration interview, he lauded the Heat and said how classy they were in defeat, something I was happy to hear from an opposing player.

After all is said and done, though, I really do feel for LeBron James. No matter what, he’s still a young guy, and usually acts his age, not his stature in sports. I can relate just a tad to what he’s going through, although on only the most minute level, but this is how I can compare it: When I was first doing my show, and everyone expected me to be a riot no matter where I was, I was always so worried that I couldn’t live up to what people expected, like when I opened for the Temptations and Four Tops, (my old pal Stan Brodsky is still laughing in heaven over that performance,) that the demands I put on myself made me not live up to the hype. My insecurities about disappointing everyone got in my own way, and that’s what I lived down to. And I think that’s kind-of what LeBron has been going through in the NBA Finals. So I do feel bad for him. At least I didn’t announce that I was starting a dynasty!!!

 

TONYS

 

By the time I got to start on the Tonys telecast, way after it had begun, due to the Mavs win and ensuing celebrations and analysis, I was on the verge of collapse. But I did manage to be a trooper and watch the whole thing in one sitting, invoking the old “the show must go on” maxim.

Even though I never get to see nearly enough Broadway shows to know for whom to root each year, I always love the Tonys. At least some of the participants are classier than on the other awards shows, there’s bound to better speech and diction than we’re used to seeing in the media (and anywhere, for that matter,) there are always musical numbers, and high kicks, and best of all, we’re always guaranteed at least one Hugh Jackman sighting, which is worth sitting in front of the TV for over three hours right there!

This year, that Jackman sighting was the highlight of the show! Hugh and host Neil Patrick Harris did a specially-written-for-them Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better duet that brought down the house. (At least, this house.) It was perfect. Despite the rumors throughout the years, Hugh is definitely not afraid to do “gay” things on-stage, that’s for sure. More power to him.

And Neil’s finale wrap-up rap, written by the master of those, Lin-Manuel Miranda, was wonderful. He had to write most of it–and even harder, Neil had to learn and rehearse it–during the show! Close to miraculous, especially when you consider that several actors, Brooke Shields included, couldn’t deliver their musical four lines that they had rehearsed, during the opening number!

My mother stayed-up for the entire show, which is shocking for an early bird like she, but there was a reason for her effort—my brother, saxophonist and flutist, Eddie Salkin, once again played for the show. (They ask the top musicians from all the Broadway musicals to play for the Tonys. And then they treat them like second-class citizens by putting them in a room somewhere else, rather than in the pit, an occurrence alluded to by Matthew Broderick and the brilliant Robert Morse. By the way, those are my words, not my bro’s.)

Outside of my crush, Hugh, my other favorite number was from Catch Me If You Can. Leo Norbett Butz was phenomenal! Shades of Laura Bell Bundy in her tour de force performance in Legally Blonde a few years ago. Mr. X, who’s starred in musicals himself, could not get over how well the guy could sing while doing the oh-so-physical dancing of his role, including moves that we’re sure Leo put in himself.

I think my favorite speech, and win, was that of Sutton Foster, who was born for the musical stage. I’ve seen her a few times in person and she’s unbelievable. She seemed genuinely shocked that people think she’s good! Weird. If her ego and that of LeBron James got together and were then cut in half, we’d have two normal-sized ones. And I’m so thrilled that Bobby Cannavale is her beau. I don’t care what he’s done since, to me he’ll always be the free-wheeling New York guy from the movie The Station Agent. One of my favorite portrayals ever.

Speaking of female performers, (Sutton, not Bobby,) there are two from last night whom I absolutely must discuss. I still don’t get Ellen Barkin. I cringe when people compliment her looks. Can those people see? She looks almost like twins with Martin Short’s Jackie Roberts, Jr. character, which, trust me, is not pretty. And how does she wind-up living with Barry Levinson’s twenty-something son??? I just shake my head over her and move on, to…

…supreme weirdo Francis McDormand! Did you see her crazy exit from the stage? And who shows up to the Tonys in a jean jacket??? Probably not even the fans outside! And, did she ever hear of washing her hair? She was in a pathetic movie a few years ago where her character never washed her hair anymore, signaling to the audience that she was going crazy, so wouldn’t that have been a clue to this actress that dirtiness is not a good way to go, especially in front of potentially millions of viewers? Or just the hundred that watch the Tonys these days. I almost puked looking at her! Even my little mother, who can’t see very well anymore, mentioned “that disgusting, dirty woman” to me.

That’s it for the week-end wrap-up. Now I have to get back to the important things in life—taking a nap and watching the Yankees!

Share.

Leave A Reply