Yesterday was Broadway on Broadway and as the annual live theatre commercial commences in Times Square a show from last season comes to mind. It comes to mind because I’m still disappointed by it. Come Fly Away should have been my favorite theatre experience; it had all the ingredients that I cherish – dance, great music, a sexy cast and a vintage look. When I bought the ticket I remember anxiously placing it on my mantel positioned to be seen every time I walked in the door. Music by Sinatra, dance by Twyla – this is a woman who made Billy Joel songs make theatrical sense - I could not contain my excitement thinking about how powerful the show was going to be with songs already ripe for the Broadway stage.

Come Fly Away ended up being an example of a great idea on paper that never lived up to the concept. What was it, what has left such a bad taste in my memory? I still feel the disappointment in my theatre/dance fan soul.

The story – was there one? Lets first acknowledge that dance is the hardest medium to communicate story because without words the clarity must come from exposed inner emotion and physical presence and that is…well…on the verge of impossible. It is easy to say; “I love you”, but try and dance “I love you” so clearly that an audience watching can see and feel and essentially hear “I love you”.

Thinking about this show and pondering the disappointment it left me with I’ve come to believe that it went wrong with the very songs I was excited to hear. Twyla leaned too much on the songs to tell the story and not enough on the dance.

Sinatra music is not cryptic. His songs mean what they are saying and say what they mean…much like the man himself. His catalogue is not ripe with metaphor rather it’s as sharp as a pinpoint. And that may have been the problem. Mixing songs that define themselves by their clarity with modern dance that is inherently obtuse is a noble challenge but the dance must be so competitive with the music that it can match all the familiarity a popular song automatically brings otherwise the song will naturally out perform or at the very least out entertain the movement, which happened.

Sinatra gives you meaning on a vocal silver platter where Twyla’s style is to be more of an artistic challenge, giving the audience the control to interpret meaning. Sinatra does not like to be interpreted he likes to be complemented.

Sinatra and Twyla would only have come together after his death. I can’t imagine her artistic nature and lifestyle jiving with his women, fame, drinks and play. They both worked hard, but their process to art is opposite and that difference is evident even though Sinatra was long gone long before this show came to life.

I hope that in the future Twyla or whomever gets the rights to work with the Sinatra catalog can enhance the legend rather then bow in reverence to it. Sinatra liked people who could keep up…keep that in mind when you work with him.

To enjoy the Paley Center for Media you need to be the type of person who would pass up a perfect blue-skied summer Saturday to watch TV pilots. You need to have memories from childhood where you would turn down trips to the zoo because Hello Dolly was on A&E (they used to play arts and entertainment on that channel). Did you get a subscription to TV Guide for your 12^th birthday and think it was a great gift? Did you cry for hours when your Dad canceled the cable? If so, come join me at our temple the house of worship for all things television (ok, now it’s media, but when I started going there it was a television and radio museum).

I am this type of person and for me and my fellow TV junkies this is our club house our home to congregate and discuss the varied television acting career of Bill Smitrovich and the hits and misses of Jim Burrows. We are people who bought Alan Alda’s biography (it was in the bargain bin, so sue me it was good) and are willing to sacrifice an entire weekend watching every single Oscar nominated documentary for a given year. We are the nomads going from channel to channel in search of greatness!

We are a crazy but dedicated bunch, dedicated to the American art form of television. To laugh track or not to laugh track – that is the question.

I retreat to the Paley Center when I want to feel enveloped by history, story or culture. I guess you could say it’s my security blanket – always comfortable and inviting. It is darkened screening rooms, big chairs and a library that you have to experience to believe.

I recommend visiting the Paley Center because most of the time television is bad, but when it’s good it is magical and this center is dedicated to preserving and showcasing that magic.

At the Paley Center there is always something good on TV.

6 Places to Celebrate National Friendship Day

It’s time to call the pal who sees you at your best and understands your worst - your Gayle King, your fellow Rat Pack members, don’t forget your Joey Bishop. No matter if you are Thelma and Louise or Matt and Ben grab your best bud and spend today celebrating the relationships that last through life’s drama and triumph - your friendships. Before Clarence reminded George that “no man is a failure who has friends” the US Congress had already proclaimed the first Sunday in August National Friendship Day so leave the spouse at home, they don’t count. Today is BFF day best celebrated with one of these six (save brunch for Mothers day) ideas that will keep you smiling, and shining, knowing you can always count on them, for sure.

Wave Hill – if you and your friends are the chatty kind who can keep talking all day long then Wave Hill is the perfect mini get away location. For every type of conversation there is a nook. With gardens, art exhibits, a café and lawn chairs positioned under trees with views of the Hudson River this public garden and cultural center in the Bronx is a jewel and has a spot perfect for the friends who like deep, rich, long conversation.
INFO - http://www.wavehill.org/home/

Woodbury Common Outlet Shopping – who better to share a bargain with then your BFF? For the shopping friends who can find each other the perfect shoes and pride themselves on never paying retail join the Japanese tourists and spend the day at outlet Mecca.
INFO http://www.premiumoutlets.com/woodbury

Kittatinny Canoes – nothing says friendship like outdoor survival. Rent a kayak and experience the river or get a canoe and see if friendship can translate into synchronized paddling ability. If you are sporty or just craving some time outdoors, bring the sun block and a change of cloths, you’ve already got the person who will pull you out if you fall overboard.
INFO http://www.kittatinny.com/

Visit a senior citizen home – studies have found that nearly 60% of senior citizens are lonely contributing to illness and premature death. Your lucky to have a friend to spend the day with, celebrate that fortune by sharing your friendship with people who need it.
INFO http://www.nyc.gov/html/dfta/html/home/home.shtml

Comedy Cellar– friends laugh together and if you are already a giggly crew then add a two-drink minimum and laugh even louder with the pros.
INFO http://www.comedycellar.com/

Visit StoryCorps Booth – make a reservation and put down on tape why your friendship is important to you. Forget the greeting card say it in person.
INFO http://storycorps.org/

BRAVO! No.

You know it's hard to slam something when they do it for you. I was all set to opine on the fact that my arugula salad was filled with spinach or mention that the shortcake in the strawberry shortcake was so hard I thought of a hockey puck. I could have mentioned the dirty fork caked in old cheese or the mediocre wine (well, no I like all wine, even mediocre). I could have told you about all of the minuses I experienced while visiting BRAVO Cucina Italiana, but then I checked their website (a yelper must get her facts straight) and I understood so much.

Their website actually boasts that they have "a chef in every kitchen".

Yep, I'm not kidding it says it on the dinner menu page. That notice gave me such pause that I instantly understood why the food was so bad. If the people/person or conglomerate that owns BRAVO thinks that it is a bonus point to have a chef in every kitchen in a RESTAURANT well then how much could they possibly care about the food or its quality? Guess what BRAVO you need a chef in every kitchen, it's not a bonus and maybe if you didn't think of it as a point of pride rather then an essential ingredient to a RESTAURANT...well then maybe I would get arugula in my arugula salad and a cake that is...oh I don't know...soft like cake. I'm just saying, you may want to change that.

Oh, and that second star you got - thank Eric our dashing young waiter. I liked him so much I didn't complain and that says a lot about his ability.



2 stars out of 4

Le Cirque Féerique (The Fairy Circus)

Le Cirque Féerique (The Fairy Circus) by Company XIV closes today. If you have not seen it, well...maybe you should not read on because you will want to kick yourself for missing it.

Company XIV is one of the most evocative mixed media dance/theater companies in NYC. Their theatrical flair and storytelling are so captivating the audience of young and old is sucked into their fantastical cave and I for one was not looking for daylight.

This is the second time I ventured to the Bond Street Theatre in Brooklyn just to see this company and it was well worth the weekend subway drama to get there. A re-telling of seven favorite childhood fairy tales The Fairy Circus delivers a rewarding connection to all forms of live theatre.

In ninety minutes I experienced dance, opera, Lady GaGa, creative costumes, wigs, sets and props plus, most important, drama that the Sun King would be proud to have performed for him. When I left I was wowed by the spectacle this small troupe was able to muster but what I came away with was the spirit and heart shared by the entire team that created the show. I felt like I had been a welcomed guest in their opulent world that demands I enjoy glitter and magic while also experiencing style and technique any dance critic would appreciate.

Yes, this company can be cheeky but they care very dearly about all the rules of dance, so much so they can break them and get away with it. They are original, fun, sexy and talented and their work lets every quality beam as bright as the MAC VIVA GLAM red glitter lipstick that glistened from the lips of the Baroque Opera Trio.

Watch out for the name Austin McCormick, the choreographer and director – plus I think he is in the show as well - because I think he and his Company XIV are a force of artistic nature. You will be hearing from them on a bigger scale in the future, but for now you have a 2pm and 5pm show today as a last chance to catch them.

The Charles Street Inn

Like Countess Olenska in The Age of Innocence the man I loved married another and I could not show the world my heartbreak. Condolences towards my grief were not to be offered or appropriate to accept. I had to watch and celebrate as the bride and groom danced under a perfect night sky: smiling at their wedding knowing that their happiness could only be achieved through my hurt.

Surviving that night with put-on joy depleted my soul and I needed a place to mend. Someplace special, private and pretty to retreat and refill my will to live passionately – I found it at The Charles Street Inn.

When I stepped into the Edith Wharton room, tired from sadness, the irony of the theme made me gasp but I stood strong in the entrance way and passed the first test that let me know my healing had begun.

The Inn saved me, it was the warm private hug I needed. I spent my time there cuddling with the pillows in the large soft bed as the shadows of fireplace flames entertained me with their dance. I soaked for hours in the warm bath adding soap for bubbles and being soothed at the idea of bath jets muting the sound of my crying. I felt the morning sun from the bay window and watched as the changing light through the day altered the shade of yellow that covered the walls. It was a perfect room, a feminine cocoon in which to heal.

The staff smiled whenever they saw me and if they detected my sadness they left me alone to feel it only occasionally checking in gently while delivering pots of hot tea with scones and jam.

Years have passed since I was at the Inn and in such sadness. Looking back, I smile because I now have the perspective of time that makes such memories refreshingly ridiculous. Healing did take longer then a weekend but I know my time on Charles Street was my first step on the path to my ability to smile today.

I am grateful to the Inn and congratulate it on ten years of service to its guests. The Charles Street Inn is a beautiful place that gave me the room to heal in, and the next time I visit I will experience it through happy eyes.

This essay was the 2nd Place Winner in the Charles Street Inn Celebrating Our Tenth Anniversary Contest.

I’m Making Deviled Eggs Part 1

I don’t cook. I don’t boil. I sometimes steam, occasionally nuke, and I do chop (I make a great crudité) but what I do is order or visit friends who do cook.

So, when I was invited to Easter dinner and my contribution to the meal was assigned as deviled eggs, also known as eggs mimosa (even if I have never heard them called eggs mimosa I like that name) I new I was either going to succeed, end up ordering them from a restaurant, or hopefully be forgiven as the source of the food poison.

I looked up the basic recipe and as simple as it seemed I immediately saw my first problem - I don’t have a pot to boil these eggs in. No worries, the deli around the corner (and even my gym café for that matter) sell hard boiled eggs to the protein packing patrons of Chelsea. So I will forgo the pot and buy the eggs already hard boiled…or will I? That seems like cheating. No, I will MAKE from beginning to end deviled eggs. It’s not near the accomplishment of making every recipe in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking but I’m committed and I would be happy if Amy Adams played me in the movie.

So first step – find a kitchen. I made an emergency call to one of the few people I know who has a kitchen with things like counter space and ovens. The bonus is it’s luxurious enough for more then one person to fit in at a time. I explained my predicament and I bribed her with the promise of an afternoon of cheap wine and all the left over deviled egg ingredients she could eat and with that a bargain was struck and the time set for my arrival – well lets be clear…I also asked if she had any ground dry mustard, I only need a ½ teaspoon. The other ingredients on the list I could possibly…maybe…occasionally see actually using in the future, but not the mustard. Lucky she has some (I told you her kitchen was great).

And with a kitchen and pot secured I headed to the grocery store. I was there less then 30 seconds when I remembered why I don’t go in grocery stores. Is there ever a time of day when its not packed? Or is it simply that the isles are so narrow and the place so stuffed with twelve versions of everything that it feels crowded? No matter, I will rant on the nutritional value of chocolate cheerios another day. In this moment I tell myself to take a breath and ask myself, if I were white vinegar where would I be?

Vinegar – found. Salt and pepper – I can steal my roommates so I don’t need to buy that or maybe I have enough of those little packets that come with take out, I’ll have to check my junk drawer? Paprika, I had a fleeting memory of seeing paprika once in my cupboard, behind rice cakes and numerous boxes of tea. I wonder, how long has it been there? I never bought it. I suspect my previous roommate bout it but that may have been sometime in the 90’s. Either way, I think I have that. Eggs, the recipe called for eggs that are a week or two old, so I proceed to annoy every single person in the refrigerated section by pulling out and looking at the dates of every carton. Ya, the poor stock guy was watching me as I undid what he had probably spent most of the day doing - sorry. I thought the older eggs would be to the front, but nooo I found just one carton buried in the back and it’s only a week old so they will have to do, (note to self: I need two weeks lead time the next time I try this, if there is a next time, or I have to garbage pick when the grocery stores toss the expired stuff, maybe that’s why these eggs are called deviled?).

Then I notice the item next on my list that I suspected may be my downfall – mayonnaise!!!

I hate mayonnaise. What is mayonnaise? If eggs are involved why is it not refrigerated? The smell, yuck. The texture, hello snot! The color, should a food be that white? I do not like mayonnaise and there I was starring at jar after jar of it. Plus, I had no idea how expensive that stuff is. I’m glad I don’t like it, buying it would take away from my wine fund.

I was not going to buy Hellmann’s I wanted to punish Hellmann’s for ruining all those great potato’s over the years. I love pasta, I love potato’s I never understood why drenching either amazing carb in white, sour smelling goo was considered tasty. But this is NYC and there is always a very expensive alternative and I found it: All Natural, Garlic & Herb Lemonaise! Ta-dah! It even says on the front “Instead of Mayonnaise” and that is exactly what I wanted something instead of mayonnaise. So I paid $6.24 for a small jar but I thought the extra cost was worth the mental comfort of knowing I would not be consciously consuming mayonnaise.

Ingredients purchased I am now in prep mode. A trick my deviled egg recipe outlines is for me to rest the eggs on their sides over night, it will allegedly center the yolks which in turn makes the egg whites sturdier to pick up and handle. Really, who took the time to notice that? But alright, I will make a little bed for the eggs in the fridge and tuck them in on their side for a good nights rest – maybe I should have also gotten an baby monitor just incase the eggs wake up in the middle of the night and need a soothing rub to reassure them the monster is not in the crisper drawer. These eggs are already getting more love and attention then I get on dates.

Day Two - time to transport the eggs and ingredients to my borrowed kitchen. Right, how am I going to do that? If I put them back in their carton my yolks wont be center. And I have gone through all this trouble I want centered yolks damn it! I’m no heathen with insecure egg whites. So I need to make an egg carrier.

Remember in Jr. High when you were given an egg baby and you had to make it a carrier to keep it safe, the lesson being if your egg baby broke you clearly were not fit for the responsibility of children. Ya, well I made egg baby beds for my tuned yolks. Snuggled together in take out containers swathed in paper towels I had batches of sleeping egg babies ready for the journey to grandmas.

To be continued…