March 29, 2005
Today was officially my last day in New York, for this first leg, anyway, and the end of the longest time I've ever spent here. Yesterday Maguire said to me, "I can see you becoming a New Yorker one day," to which I replied, "I already am one!" Strange, I've been here just long enough to get over the initial homesickness of leaving the ranch, now I feel like I'm leaving home again. A twist of irony there, but there were a few of those today.
The most ironic of these was a phone call from Sasha telling me that a package had just arrived containing the entire contents of the wallet I lost three weeks ago! Well, minus the cash, of course. In place of the wallet was an old, well-worn Bible. Very strange indeed, but then this is NYC. Perhaps the wallet was found by someone in need who was able to get a hot meal on that cold day, and maybe they sent their precious Bible as a token of gratitude for a prayer answered. I'll never know. I was just thankful to get back the old pictures and the cards. The one I missed in particular was one I received on the first day of rehearsal in studio 6A. Printed on it was just one word:
One more order of show business remained today, and it was the Sitzprobe. I know, it sounds like a very uncomfortable proctology procedure, but it's actually a rehearsal of songs in a music room with the full band. At Carroll Music Studios on 55th st near the Hudson River, the cast got together behind mics and the band plowed through every number in the show from top to bottom. I watched and provided moral support along with the other standby's and the whole production team. The band has not been playing together very long and at this point nothing is very tight. That'll change once they can all hear each other and get in more rehearsal time. Afterwards I had a quick snack from the deli tray and a drink of champagne before walking back home. The weather outside was absolutely beautiful, which made it ironic that we were taking off just as the nasty coldness was, too. But we're not exactly going to Seattle. There'll be plenty of loveliness awaiting us in San Francisco.
I was invited by my cousin Kevin to attend a small party tonight on the upper west side. To get there from my place I had to take the subway up to 72nd St and Central Park West. The exit is right on the northwest corner, and when I emerged from it and turned right I was smack at the entrance of the Dakota apartment building, where John Lennon lived and died. I felt one more twinge of irony in passing by this landmark just before leaving the city, a final reminder of why I've been here, and why I'm coming back.