Friday, June 01, 2007

There’s no business like show business. Wear this one to see Grey Gardens or to perform a karaoke medley of your favorite show tunes.

It’s hard to pick a favorite musical. Cabaret, always tops my list, what with Berlin and Liza and Nazis (oh, my!). All That Jazz has wormed its way into my very marrow, along with Camelot, Chicago and Sunday in the Park With George.

I dined with Uncle Monty at his club last night. Stuffed eggplant, plenty of pinot grigio and Uncle Monty’s one-liners. If you don’t have an Uncle Monty, I suggest you find one right away. It is rejuvenating to spend time with someone who whole-heartedly endorses your sartorial quirks and knows when you’re quoting a Preston Sturges film. And oh the wit, the wisdom, the charming turn of phrase from that Uncle of mine. I mean, what else is there, really?

Alas and alack, I fear that the days of Rudolpho’s reign are coming to an end. Rudolpho ( for those who have turned in late) is my part-time paramour. Since our relationship is long distance, we’re just phoning it in these days. That's right, giving it the old matinee soft sell. He doesn’t read my blog (or listen to a word I say for that matter), so I have not the slightest worry of him reading this. The question is: why have I stayed with Rudolpho so long? Perhaps because he is an arrogant workaholic. Perhaps because we have almost nothing in common, and can barely cross the street together without an argument. Perhaps because he is as bull-headed and handsome as they come. That is to say, totally my type.

But goslings, I haven’t gotten so much as a laugh or a side order of fries out of this relationship for the past 6 months.

Uncle Monty always has a great perspective on things. And one day, when I have weathered a few more storms, I too can face my heartbreaks with equanimity. “The Steven Years,” says Uncle Monty, “I knew better but I didn’t want to.” Sounds like a trailer for a film. Or the tag line to a movie poster.

Well chickadees, as they say on Broadway: Every show closes eventually. I’m just afraid I’ll never eat lunch in this town again.

Yes, this post has been amended, because sometimes mermaids are self-indulgent.


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