March 3-5, 2005
Last night I had dinner on 9th Ave with my old friend Scott Smith, whom I went to school with thirty years ago in the small refinery community of Baytown, TX, which is not the end of the world, but you can see it from there (or is that just the San Jacinto Monument?). He's been a northerner now since college, and I get the biggest kick from the idea of two little shit-kickers from Hick City shuckin' and jivin' in the world's capitol as adults. Life's sweet irony.
On Thursday we completed staging of the show, which we've been doing in sequence, from the first scene to the last. The feel of the show has been generally upbeat and humorous, up until the end, which everyone knows about. The death scene is done very tastefully and respectfully - no dramatization, no detailed description of the crime and no mention of the perpetrator (whose name we must never mention), just a sobering account from a cop who was at the scene, played with subtle brilliance by Chuck, and a solo song. Julie, arguably the most open-hearted of all the cast, plays the part of Yoko almost exclusively in the show, and her emotional rendering of "Grow Old With Me" had much of the cast in tears. Heavy stuff indeed. Me, I was too busy taking notes to get choked up, but even I couldn't help noticing the vocal delivery in all its gentle beauty.
After work I decided to explore the neighborhood a bit before cooking dinner, and scope out grocery and clothing stores, mail centers, etc. While walking down 43rd St, I passed a young woman standing outside in the frigid air, weeping bitterly into a cell phone. I had no idea what she was crying about, but it wasn't a cry that was frustrated, angry or hurt. It was sad and lonely. I found myself hoping that ain't me in two weeks. I only miss home if I feel disconnected from it, but I'm not. While I'd give anything to hold my wife and son for a moment, I don't wish I was back there. Right now I wouldn't be anywhere else. We'll see how long that lasts.
Friday we stumbled through the entire show from start to finish, just to have a look at everything in its sketchy form with the producers and designers in attendance. "Working Class Hero" has been recently written into the script, and I was on hand to play it on guitar. But "Watching The Wheels" isn't working and is cut for now, to the chagrin of Will. Will is also a hilarious guy and a dominant personality, plus the only guy besides me and Don who speaks Beatle.
Saturday was another day of fine-tuning scenes and vocal arrangements, and one more song sequence was swiftly choreographed. We even found time to watch a bit more footage before knocking off at five. I had dinner plans afterward, but they were cancelled, so I made my way down to the Bowery Ballroom, one of the best rock clubs in the city, where I met my friend Hollyee from Austin. She's in town working on The Gates in Central Park, and always seems to be well connected around town. Tonight she was with her friend Barre, who's also well connected. We didn't pay for a single drink all night.
I saw a guy onstage playing a banjo with a violin bow. How come nobody's thought of that before??