This? Pretty much one of my favourite books of all time.
Ever since I heard about the musical I have wanted to see it. I know every single song by heart. I also have not so minor crushes on Idena Minzel and Kristen Chenoweth (seeing her on Glee? LOVED it.)
One item on my bucket list is to see another show on Broadway (Lion King was amazing). This probably stems from me being a TOTAL tech theatre geek.
As some of you may know, me and Scarlett flew to New York City to help Marilyn prepare for her wedding and Scarlettt was also one of the bridesmaids while I got roped into the catering service when the actual service was short-handed. To those of you who cater for a living, I have no idea how you do it but you are now my heroes. We had a blast with the third member of our trio and kind of ignored her when she said she would pay us back for all our help thinking it would be like sending us a thank you card or something of the like.
No it wasn’t.
So today, November 11th in the year 2009 at about 10:40 AM EST I hear a knock at the door and see a Fed Ex truck in the driveway. Trying to remember if either me or Scarlett had anything on order, I answer the door for the man who is carrying two packages. One adressed to Scarlett. The other adressed to me.
I signed for them as Scarlett was at class and wouldn’t be back for hours, thanked the man, and went to the table to open my box. Now when I see it is from Marilyn, I’m expecting something like a dildo.
Because she’s just that kind of person and knows I would find it funny.
When I opened it up, I felt like Pumpkin opening up Wallace’s package. I might have stared for a full minute.
While I always knew Marilyn’s family was rather well off, I never really understood what that meant until seeing their summer home where the rehearsal dinner would be. I find out that Marilyn talked to a friend of hers who works with Broadway productions. How it was pulled off I do not know but sitting on my table were two, not one, TWO tickets to the Gershwin Theatre to see Wicked on January 9 complete with an invitation to go backstage and meet some of the cast.
There may have been an intense desire to squee.
There was a moment of hyperventilation.
Followed by an acid-inspired improptu dance party in my kitchen.
I called Marilyn and left her a voicemail that was half-screaming in the most undignified way and half-thanking her profusely while promising to find some way to pay her back.
I’m going to Broadway. I’m going to Broadway. I’m going to Broadway.
While my 21st birthday didn’t really involve alcohol (yes Mindy, I know this is blasphemy of the highest order), partying (postponed until the weekend), or gifts other than cards from Scarlett and The Bait, a short conversation with Daybreak made it fantastic.
Daybreak: “Happy birthday Daddy, I love you.”
You’d think that after being called Papa for months, it wouldn’t phase me all that much.
You’d be wrong.
Oh, where to start?
Well I did make it to Boston Harbour and the famous Beacon Street and at that point.
I know most people need maps but I really can’t stand the things while walking. I love immersing myself in a new city and today was no exception. Bostonians, I have a whole new appreciation for seafood as a result of this weekend. Especially clam chowder.
Er, sorry ’bout that.
I also never realized just how noticeable my accent was. The cashier told me that she had thought I was a native until I opened my mouth. I speak with a slight drawl, not really something I bother to hide unless I’m speaking Spanish.
So anyways, a big part of my day was Abi and Abo (Mami’s parents and who have adopted me as a grandson since I was 12) insisting that Mami bring me by and Abi would make a big breakfast to celebrate my 21st birthday (weeks before the actual date). Three of Mami’s sisters showed up for the event which was great as aside from the youngest, I hadn’t seen any of them since 2003.
I was a few months shy of 15, and like many a shy teenage boy I got flustered whenever a pretty girl/woman talked to me. And I can say with no feeling of squick, that all of Mami’s sisters (even Mami) are pretty bordering on gorgeous. Thankfully I was older this time and could just easily deflect their teasing.
Yes I was shy at one point.
You can hold your shock, thank you very much.
As for the actual meal, if nothing else then Abi proved that I had decades before I could claim the title of a good cook. I was humbled. Completely.
French toast with strawberry topping and powdered sugar.
And all in humongous portions as this family can eat. I got jabbed none too gently with a fork by Mami’s youngest older sister when I made the joke that one could have lost a hand in that anarchy.
All in all it was a wonderful quasi-surprise.
I hit the road after that for a trip filled with me singing like I was trying to win American Idol, changing a spare tire, and learning that I still have a filthy mouth when pushed. And folks, driving 45 on the interstate most definitely counts as being pushed.
Now I’m back home where I was mobbed by my puppy as soon as I picked her up from Marilyn and Scarlett. I’m back where the weather is above 30 degress.
I’m happy to be back.
On second thought, classes start back up Tuesday.
That happy feeling? Yeah, it just went down the crapper.
Boston, I miss you.