"Les Miserables" is leaving Broadway. Glad I saw it 4
times.
Some Backstreet Boy is playing the lead in "Chicago". Papa
John - thanks again for the show - especially the impecable timing
that we got to see Billy Zane in that role.
These are sad times. (Not to mention scary code red times)
But they are all made a bit brighter by random moments like gay boys
singing Broadway tunes in harmony with other men they've never met in
some tiny old wooden bar with a piano played by one absolutely
enormous - in both width and height - bearded, macho, flaming man.
(Yes, I do realize those adjectives contradict each other, but
reality does that sometimes.)
I think perhaps some of the most heart warming moments are often
those shared with strangers. You know - when something really trippy
is taking place and you make eye contact with a stranger a few feet
away and you both smile, nod and silently share a laugh?
I think that's beautiful.
I don't recall ever seeing that on camera (remind of that the day I
make my first film, OK?) Fortunately I see it in life often.
Tuesday began with a fresh blanket of snow. Sounds nice in theory,
but in reality it was a dirty, mucky mess in general outside, but the
bus stop into the city was especially pretty. I exchanged a glance &
one of those laughs with the other soul standing there, and together
we marveled at the nastiness before us. A few minutes later we were
belting out Broadway tunes and commisserating each other over the
misfortune of being brought up in such a sorry town.

We exchanged audition source info, phone numbers & of course favorite
coffee shops. If I ever need to learn professional ball room
dancing, he's the man. (Can you believe a person actually makes a
living, competing in ball room dancing?!) But he mentioned his
favorite hang was a piano bar named "Marie's Crisis", and
we'd try to meet there later. Good name. Sums up a large chunk of
high school. And Tucson. But, alas, he could not remeber quite
where it was located.
A boy bounced over to me in Port Authority and oggled over my dead,
frayed locks and convinced me to buy his promotion and let sexy Sven
massage my shoulders while Carlos cut my curls and I sipped some
wine. Then we sat in a corner and I listened to his stories of
coming out, moving to the city, struggles of sex, acting and general
life story. Shocking but true - I listened and did not speak for
well over an hour.
And now my hair is very short and very red.
Then I went in search of coffee shop recommended to me last week by
the folks I met at the Hunter S. Thompson read.
Along the way, I found "Marie's Crisis".
Finally I find the sought after shop. The Aussie from the previous
week was there; probably quite afraid of his perceived stalker. ;)
We sit, chat, type, and compare coffee shop lists. (Yes - we both
actually carried such a list!) I believed he categorized himself as
a...not a coffee shop SLUT, different word, but close.
Someone somewhere was talking about a fish.
So the little silver fish on the rickety little wooden table by the
already inviting window seat lured me in.
As I sat and toyed with the shiny object, the man at another table
pulled out his camera to photograph it. Moments & chatter later, I
join him at his table and Aussie and I check out his portfolio of
digitally enhanced photo art comprised mostly of naked women, trippy
colors & fabulous back grounds. It was beautiful stuff.
The guy was kind of a trip to listen to, and Aussie & I exchanged
glances and silent laughs.
Later at "Marie's Crisis":
Picture Jack of "Will & Grace" at a piano bar, flipping his
head "Excuse me, he's playing my song" and sashaying
towards center bar to belt it out. Then envision four strangers
individually popping out of various corners, from behind the bar,
from out the bathroom, to join in harmony on alternating lines.
This was not staged.
Better entertainment could not be paid for.
I was alone, with my hand over my mouth so as not to be too obviously
cracking up at everyone in there.
Two songs later some BEAUTIFUL guy comes in and sits down alone at
the table next to me.
Thank God, someone to share this laugh with. We looked at each other
sharing that fabulous smile and laugh between strangers. (Though
this one wasn't so silent)
Now, from my limited experience, I've concluded that Germans can't
kiss. This guy was German. He wanted me to stay, and I was tempted
to re-evaluate my weak hypothesis. But the 7 foot tall guy with the
gutt of a sumo wrestler who resided behind the piano, refered to the
music of Jekyll & Hyde as "that shit", so my singing
options were slim. Plus, I had to make the last bus out of the city.
There were 6 of us on that bus.
I was the first one on. One guy sat across from me, and the other
directly behind. About to doze off, when the guy behind us turns on
every light around him, and starts crinkling newspaper in a
desperate, "I'm not really literate but want people to think I'm
reading so I'll just keep turning pages at an irritatinly loud and
fast rate for the entire bus ride" sort of way.
The guy across from me & I just looked at each other, shook our heads
and shared a silent laugh.

Peace, love, laughter & lesbians!