Bah. Humbug.

Now that the holidays are fully upon us, I'm retreating into my hard, crusty shell (melts in your mouth, not in your hands) and turning my back on my fellow man (there's a joke in there somewhere, but I'm not going to bother looking for it).

Anyhoo, I think I'm done blogging for the year. See you in 2006.



By the way, I've turned on comments moderation since my archives are filling up with spam faster than a Hawaiian who just cashed his paycheck, so if you comment on anything in the next week or two, it might not show up for a while.

I'm turning into my dad

Generally, I like unions. I'm a tree-huggin' lefty who believes that they make sure workers don't get exploited by unfeeling companies.

That being said, TWU Local 100 would have to work pretty damn hard to convince me that they're being exploited. Average salary is $45,000-$68,000 counting overtime (according to the NY Sun). Not damn bad for people who, on average, don't have college degrees. Plus they don't pay for their benefits, get to retire at 55, get full pension after 25 years, and get full medical once they retire.

I have a college degree (three, actually). My salary is slightly above the high range of their average. But I pay for my benefits. I can't retire until I'm 65. And my office has recently cancelled our pensions. And I sure as hell don't get any medical other than Medicare after I retire.

So should I feel sorry for the transit workers? Sorry, ain't gonna happen.

And it doesn't help that their union president is such a cunt. Roger Toussaint pretty much represents the worst that the unions have to offer. He's a little man with a Napoleon complex who is threatening other people's livelihoods and safety in order to get his moment in the spotlight.

Well, thank God for two things: the Taylor laws and my upcoming vacation. With any luck, when Roger throws his hissy and calls a strike, the Taylor laws will smack him down and I'll be enjoying my vacation way the hell away from here.

I always saw myself as Beaker

You are Sam the Eagle.
You are patriotic and devoted. And extremely anal.

HOBBIES:
Patriotism, Being appalled at what everyone else is
doing.
FAVORITE MUSIC:
The National Anthem of America

FAVORITE MOVIE:
"An American In....America"

LAST BOOK READ:
"Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus,
Eagles are from America"

QUOTE:
"Please stop that now! It's un-American!"


What Muppet are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Things that make you go . . . hmmm

Have you ever noticed that you don't ever see Evill Aaron and Eartha Kitt in the same room at the same time? Three words: Clark, Kent, Superman. That's all I'm saying.

In other news, I'm reviewing a play this weekend and I just found out that a guy I know is in the cast. Jeezum, I hope to God the play doesn't suck.

Berfday

So I'm another year older, but still devastatingly attractive. Well, by BizarroWorld standards.

Anyhoo, today is also a certain Famous Author's birthday. Wish him a happy b-day (not bidet). If you know his e-mail address, that is.

And that's all the posting you'll get from me today. It's a busy work day, then I'm off to see a show tonight (to review it).

Oh, by the way, last night I saw the One Man Star Wars Trilogy. It was hilarious and one of the best nights of theater I've had in a while. It's playing through the end of the month. Go see it.

Earlier this week I saw Thom Pain (based on nothing). Good show. Odd . . . but good. It's worth checking out.

Haikuesday

Birthday's in two days
I'm in the mood for presents
This is what I want:

The God of Biscuits'
Gift for esoterica;
I'll take some of that.

I would also like
A bit of Mark and Brian's
Whimsical nature.

How 'bout a phone call
From Matt's mom with a story
about his childhood?

A touch of Frank's wit
For use in emergencies
Would come in handy.

Bob's sense of humor
Sorry, let's make that 'humour'
Now that he's a Brit.

Jeff's new house, of course,
Would be nice, but how to get
It to Manhattan?

Homer's handiness
With Albert's sense of style would
Brighten up my home

Jase's joie de vivre
Or maybe just his good looks
I could handle that.

Hospitality
Like Jess and Marc, Knottyboy's
Artistic talent

Sardonic humor
From Palochi and maybe
His leather jacket

Brian's hot accent
Or maybe his recipes
Either would be good

Sherry's youth and brains
Faustus and Rob's musical
talent (oh, and David's too)

Speaking of Davids
I'd like his epic drive and
His little dog, too.

But it is enough
Just to have them in my life.
Friends are the best gift.

Note: Yeah, I missed a few of you. Sorry about that, but I'm knackered and it's time for a coffee break. Anyway, I hope you all know how important your friendship is to me, with or without a link in a crappy, but heartfelt, haiku.

Update

This morning I threw my back out. What, pray tell, was I doing at three in the morning that was so strenuous that I threw my back out?

Sleeping.

Yep. I threw my back out sleeping.

I am now officially the world's most out-of-shape person. I fully expect Richard Simmons to come to my house and cut through a wall to get me out with a crane.

Frak.

Anyhoo. Last week I saw three shows. 'Making Marilyn' and 'Rachel' Off-Off Broadway. I wouldn't really recommend either of them. 'Making Marilyn' was kind of interesting, but it didn't really gel. 'Rachel' was abysmal . . . poorly written, poorly directed, poorly acted. Made me want to bitch slap everyone involved.

The other show was 'Souvenir' on Broadway. Cute and funny, but it would have been better as a shorter piece. It didn't merit a full-length treatment.

Other than that, I went out for Korean BBQ with Stuff and friends on Sunday.

The wild times never end in Crashylvania (thanks, Palochi).

One other thing, now that I think about it. I did stay up until three in the morning on Saturday (well, technically it was Sunday) to watch the first snow of the season. It was pretty, but it made walking to church a pain.

We wants it, my precious

You'll note on the right side of this screen, nearly at the bottom, is a link to my Amazon wish list. While I would certainly never be so crass as to ask any of you to buy me anything for my rapidly approaching birthday, you are welcome to browse it to see the odd mix of Broadway, Bel Ami and Blues that I seem to enjoy.

And if, while browsing, you decide to buy something for me . . . well, that's your choice.

Still alive

Sorry I haven't been posting . . . busy, busy, busy.

So here is the last couple of weeks in a nutshell: dim sum, Palochi, two theater reviews published, Gay Expo, two awards ceremonies, trip to mom's, surprise birthday party that was actually a surprise (there's still time to buy me a gift, by the way), Homer exhibit at the Dahesh Museum, Harry Potter (I cried), doing work for my not-for-profits, work, job hunting and TV.

The fun never ends at Crashland.

We deliver f.u.

Why I'm learning to hate the Post Office

1) For the second time, a Netflix DVD hasn't arrived.

2) My postal carrier routinely mutilates my mail putting it in the mailbox.

3) My local post office (which incidentally isn't the nearest post office to where I live . . . go figure) changed its hours to 9-5. Amazingly inconvenient since I work the same hours. That leaves me four hours on Saturday when I can go pick up my packages and oversized mail. Assuming I'm in town.

4) The district manager of my post office says the hours were changed by the local postmaster. The postmaster says they were changed by the district manager.

5) A package that I sent to Zeitzeuge Mark in late October never arrived. And I didn't insure it.

6) A couple of weeks ago, while I was out of town, my mailbox got so full that even my trash-compacter of a postal carrier couldn't crush any more of my mail into it. So he ordered my mail delivery stopped. He didn't leave a note or inform me in any way. Then after a week, he brought all my mail to my place and gave it to my super.

7) They're raising the price of stamps again, instead of raising the price of sending bulk mail.

Why I'm learning to hate UPS

1) They deliver during business hours. Which is when I work.

2) They don't deliver on weekends.

3) If they can't get the package to you they ask you to come pick it up. In Queens, the location is smack dab in the middle of the dead zone with no subways, which means a cab ride on top of the shipping fee. It is also in the middle of the Queens graveyard district, and when the zombies attack, I don't want to be carrying scrapbooking supplies or porn. Um . . . not that I ever order either of those things.

All of these issues would be moot if I still had a doorman. Crap.

An open letter

To the white-trash, goomba, Gotti-wannabe in the huge, silver, tricked-out pickup truck who nearly ran me down in Times Square last night while stuffing a burger in his fat, ugly face.

Fuck you.

Sincerely,
Crash

And I've been cooking

I made chicken breasts with a sherry and shallot sauce the other day. And I made chicken thighs with a sauce of sherry and sauteed artichoke hearts. Yum.

In a Nutshell

I've seen a few plays in the last week.

Cowboy vs. Samurai - Good. A retelling of the Cyrano story by the National Asian American Theater Company.

The Snow Maiden - Children's theater that I reviewed for the online site.

Screwups - Another one I reviewed. Very funny.

Let's see . . . dinner at Jess and Marc's where I got to meet the charming Knottyboy.

Dim sum on Sunday. Hanging out with Jase on Saturday. Laundry. Work.

Patrick is still a great houseguest.

What else? Oh, Lost. How freaking amazing was last week's episode?

Okay. I'm done.

Update

I haven't really felt like blogging lately, so I think I may continue to post less frequently. We'll see.

Last Thursday I saw The Color Purple, the new musical. I really enjoyed it. Good songs, wonderful acting, beautiful sets. All in all, I think it will do well.

Friday I went to see The Great American Trailer Park Musical again. Cast album comes out soon, woo hoo! It's a wonderfully funny show and I highly recommend it.

Saturday I went out with Stuff and Patrick to Pegasus on the east side. Fun time, though one of us had a little too much to drink. I won't name names, but it rhymes with hat trick. And yet, he was up and about the next day for work. Good man.

Sunday was brunch day for Stuff and me. We went to Heidelberg, a German place (naturally) on the UES. Fantastic. Fresh potato salad, sauerkraut and bratwurst. Plus a marvellous Schwarzwaelder Kirsch torte and one of the best cups of coffee I'd had in a while. Yum.

Other than all that, I just caught up on Netflix (I watched the second disk of the first season of Six Feet Under and the first disc of a show called Desperate Housewives, which you've probably never heard of). I also saw an episode of a British sitcom starring Alan Cumming as a gay flight attendant on Here OnDemand. It was horrible; now I understand why Rob Byrnes has such a passionate dislike of the man.

And did I mention that Patrick makes a mean chicken enchilada? Well he does.

My other accomplishment for the weekend was finally unpacking and putting up some of my art and knick-knacks. Starting to look like a real home, my place is. I suppose I'll have to move soon.

Last thing, I'll be reviewing my first show for the online review site this Saturday. Woo hoo!

The student loans were worth it

Well, I just got a gig writing theater reviews for an online site (I wrote about submitting an article a while ago). I refuse to let myself get too excited about this since I'm always expecting the other shoe to drop, but I am a little happy. Nice to know these theater degrees will get to be put to use.

By the way, I am totally open to hot, young directors and actors who want to sleep with me in order to get a good review.

I like me! Right now I really like me!

As part of the new HR/benefits program designed by a bunch of consultants who've probably never worked at a real job in their entire lives, we are now required to write a self-evaluation of our work for the current year.

I was thinking of going the humble route, but fuck that. It occurs to me that my job gets steadily more complex and my pay remains maddeningly the same. So I'm about to write the most pro-me thing I've ever written.

But just to be on the safe side, I think I won't mention my ability to put up with bullshit, navel-gazing, burdensome administrative requirements that have nothing to do with my actual day-to-day job.

Wise move?

What kind of bullshit do you have to put up with in your job?

UPDATE: So do you think I'll get extra points for the sarcasm and pointed digs about how some employees who make more money are held to much lower standards than the rest of us? Or maybe the part where I said that no one has ever bothered to define what the expectations of my job are? This is probably not going to be a fun review.

Rainy Days and Weekdays Always Get Me Down

I've been feeling low recently. Not my mood, which thanks to my lodger, Patrick, has been remarkably buoyant (I'd forgotten how nice it is just to have someone to talk to at the end of the day).

But for whatever reason, the weather, work, etc., I've been feeling so damn tired. Just worn out. All I want to do after work is sit on the sofa and watch TV or go to bed. And it takes everything I can muster to get out of bed in the morning. My arms and legs feel like lead and there are times I wonder if I can make it up the stairs at the end of the day.

This might make sense if I were a laborer of some sort, but I'm a desk jockey.

Anyway, hopefully the weather will change and I'll start feeling better.

My dare/goal/pledge/whatever has been shot to shit. I haven't done anything since last week. But I had a pretty good run, so I'm still coming out of this ahead. Now I just need to get back in the groove.

Last night I watched Another Country (which was based on a play, so maybe that should count for the dare . . . ). Cary Elwes, while certainly still a looker, was so beautiful in that movie (he was 21 or 22 when it was filmed). After that, I watched the first couple of episodes of Six Feet Under.

I'm loving Netflix. Tonight will probably be more SFU and Yossi and Jagger. Then, I start my Buffy/Six Feet Under/Desperate Housewives marathon. Woo hoo!

Haikuesday

Haikuesday again
Funny, no word from these guys
Up to me, I guess

But I am tired
Inspiration escapes me
I need a long nap

Day 20: Beeeoooowuuuuulf!!!!!

In one of Mike's posts a couple of months back, he mentions seeing 'Thrill Me', a musical based on Leopold and Loeb. He says that during a song about how to handle an interrogation, he had the urge to sing 'When Velma takes the stand'. Well, I had a moment like that last night at 'Beowulf' at the Irish Repertory Theater.

Billed as a 'rock opera', the show was entirely sung. During one of the scenes, the Danes are singing praises to Beowulf and keep singing his name Beeeoooo-wuuuuulf which is then followed by a pause and the singing starts up again.

During the pause I said to myself 'Superstar' and had a giggle fit. Because it worked perfectly. Beowulf Superstar, do you think you're who they say you are.

At that point, the show was effectively over for me.

So rather than write a review, because the reviews I've read pretty much nail the shows problems, I submit this in the spirit of Gerard Alessandrini and Forbidden Broadway.

To the tune of 'Superstar' from 'Jesus Christ Superstar'

Ever since the lights went down I don't understand
How you let this threadbare show get so out of hand.
You'd have managed better if you'd had a plan.
Why'd you choose an epic poem set in such a strange land?
The audience today just wants a mental vacation.
Trying to be deep will only lead to mass frustration.

Boy, you got it wrong.
I've got to tell you so.

Beowulf, Superstar,
What kind of show do you think you are?
Beowulf, Superstar
Medieval rock opera's too bizarre.

Stole some Andrew Lloyd when you were writing this show
Julie Taymor, Bunraku and Japanese No
Martial arts and Riverdance to all our chagrin.
All the periods and cultures, even Brantley's head would spin.
Did you mean this show to tank? Was that a mistake, or
Did you think this bad pastiche could be a record breaker?

Boy, you got it wrong
I've got to tell you so.

Beowulf, Superstar
What kind of show do you think you are?
Beowulf, Superstar
Stole from your peers but it's still subpar.

Okay, I'm not exactly ready to be submitting my stuff to Forbidden Broadway, but it was fun to write.

And in the spirit of saying something nice about the show, I point out two good things. First, there is a scene where a puppet dragon walks through the audience to fight the heroes on the stage. It was a wonderful effect. Second, the guy playing Beowulf was cute and had a really nice voice.

Day 19

Best laid plans, et cetera.

Anyway, tonight I'm getting back on track by seeing Beowulf at the Irish Repertory Theater. Today's New York Times review referred to it as "abysmal".

So who wants my extra ticket?