We’re Back From New York City

I like going to New York. The city is invigorating to me. When I was a kid, living in the bowels of Queens, going to ‘the city’ was a big deal. It was where sophistication was – and I was anything but sophisticated.

Helaine is less a New York lover than I am. On the other hand, she loves me. She agreed to go because I wanted to go.

Helaine, Clicky&#185 and I headed to Union Station in New Haven for the 11:57 AM train. Union Station is a moderately large, moderately grand, railroad station.

There are rows of large wooden benches in the waiting room. Over the past few

years someone has put large model trains, under plastic covers, on the tops of the benches. It was a great idea, but it ruins the look of this classic station.

Of the eight trains listed on the stations schedule board, three were delayed or cancelled. Is this any way to run a railroad?

Our train arrived at Grand Central Terminal ahead of schedule and we were on our way to Times Square.

The norm for a Fox Family trip to New York is to see a show, and the best deal is to go to TKTS in Duffy Square in the northern reaches of Times Square. TKTS sells Broadway show tickets for half price, plus a small surcharge. There are no credit cards accepted and no guarantee of any show being available.

Oh – you have to stand in the cold, in line, and wait. Temperatures yesterday never got out of the mid-30&#176s and there was a pretty stiff breeze.

We got in line around 2:00 PM. TKTS opens at 3:00 PM.

I had done some research, seeing which shows had been posted for sale in the previous week, and which shows we might enjoy. Trust me, some shows are bad. Even worse, some shows are weird. There are shows about nearly every aberrant behavior you can think of – and many you can’t!

Our goal was to see “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.” We had seen small snippets of it on the Tony Awards, and it looked funny. Here’s the original NY Times review.

After waiting a few minutes, it was entertainment time. A man brought a portable amplifier, karaoke soundtrack, and buckets for contributions and began to sing. Yikes! No wonder he can’t get a legit job.

He started with “New York, New York,” and it went downhill from there. Like the guy with the broom who sweeps up after the elephants, he is in show business.

Most times you can get your first choice for show tickets. This time we did.

For $47.50 + $3 service charge each, we got $95 seats for the show. Our seats we’re in Row C at the very oddly shaped “Circle in the Square Theater.” More on that later. It was just after 3:00 PM and the show wouldn’t begin until 8:00 PM. Five hours in New York to kill.

I suggested, and Helaine readily agreed (she really must love me) to go to the American Museum of Natural History on the Upper West Side. We popped into the subway, bought two Metrocards, asked the ticket agent for assistance, and found the correct station was a few blocks away.

I’m not sure how most out-of-towners take to the subway. I grew up riding them. I took a long subway ride to high school, every day for four years. It is the fastest, easiest mode of transportation in Manhattan. They’re just not very clean or friendly looking. The cars are filled with people from every corner of the planet.

We were at the museum in 15 minutes.

Our time at the museum was a little aimless. We got there late in the afternoon. Even on Fridays, the museum turns into a pumpkin at 5:30.

We walked around the new space wing – an impressive glass lined structure. We moved into the ‘old school’ sections of the museum.

At one point I needed the men’s room. I left Helaine and walked a series of hallways to get there. I made a turn and stared down the hall where the lunchrooms for school kids are located.

Good grief. It’s deja vu! I remembered being there, in this very same hallway, well over 40 years ago.

I like this museum. We needed more time, or more importantly, a real strategy for seeing things. We walked around aimlessly.

Some of what we saw was very impressive. Huge dinosaurs filled large halls. In other areas, animals from around-the-world were pictured in their native habitats.

Helaine asked if the animals in the dioramas were ‘real’ or re-creations. You know, sometimes you just don’t want to hear the answer!

I would assume these are the best of taxidermy. I’m also guessing the same antelopes have had vultures picking at them for decades. Some of these dioramas looked pretty old.

As the museum closed, we headed south. There was plenty of time, since we were meeting Steffie and her college roommate for dinner at the Stage Deli. We decided to walk.

The Museum of Natural History to the Stage Deli is around 1.5 miles, but it’s a flat, easy walk down Central Park West. CPW is a broad, two way street with the park on the east side. On the west side are mostly large, stately, very expensive co-op apartment buildings.

We walked past canopies leading to lobbies with multiple doormen. From time-to-time as we walked, a doorman would dart to the street to hail a cab or carry a bag.

We walked past the San Remo. It’s one of the few buildings on CPW I’ve been in. Years ago a friend worked for Barry Manilow, and I was in his apartment (without Barry). His view of Central Park was unreal.

We walked past the Dakota, the building where John Lennon lived, and outside of which he was killed.

We walked past one cross street, and as I looked down, it was covered in snow… and movie gear. A film shoot was in progress.

A few young women were talking to technicians, wondering about the arrival of someone – probably a movie star. Though the tech said he’d be there in a few hours, they said they’d stay.

We continued south to Columbus Circle. For years the circle was dominated by the horrific Edward Durrell Stone designed Huntington Hartford Art Gallery and the New York Coliseum. The Coliseum was actually uglier. With it’s astoundingly restrictive work rules it came to represent everything bad about doing business in New York City.

Now Columbus Circle is ruled by the Time Warner Center, a huge complex of condos, hotels and upscale shopping. We still had a few blocks to walk before getting to the Stage.

I fished my cellphone from my pocket and called Steffie, in the Village. She and the mystery roomie were heading to the subway to meet us for dinner. Luckily the Stage wasn’t all that crowded, as Helaine and I sat for a half hour waiting for their arrival.

I’ve written about the Stage before, but briefly, imagine Shaq sized sandwiches with bowls of matzo ball soup large enough to bathe in. On the table, a plate of very large, very sour pickles. Along with these oversized courses come checks the size of a small mortgage payment.

There was still some time before the curtain… and it was still very cold. Helaine sat down in the theater’s lobby while I headed back out to Times Square to take some more shots.

I took over 200 photos on this trip. It wasn’t particularly sunny and there wasn’t a whole lot I hadn’t photographed a dozen times before. I have a few good shots, but alas, nothing spectacular.

I made a few attempts at panoramas, firing off shot after shot as I slowly spun around at a location. So far I’ve looked at my panos for Times Square and the Museum of Natural History. Neither is a keeper. There’s still one from Grand Central to process.

It was dark out as I went to take these last Times Square shots. Obviously, the square itself is illuminated with miles of neon, but I wanted to capture the lower light foreground as well.

This kind of shot really calls out for a tripod. I have a little tabletop tripod in my bag… which was with Helaine. So, I waited for the light to go red, moved out into the crosswalk, and put the camera on the blacktop. In some shots I placed a tube of Chapstick under the lens to ‘lift’ the view.

Our show, “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee,” is presented in “Circle in the Square” on 50th Street. This theater is at least 30 years old, new for a Broadway house, and probably has been refurbished at least once in that time. The theater space is actually downstairs.

To get you into the theme of the show, the lobby is decorated as if it were a school. There are posters, mostly handmade, for the A/V Squad and school elections. I didn’t know it at the time, but everyone pictured seems to be in the show or with the show.

Some members of the audience were standing in line with forms. This show uses four members of the audience as spelling bee participants.

Within a few minutes, a coordinator was approaching me. Helaine had found him and ratted me out.

As it turns out, I wasn’t chosen. Helaine says I wasn’t dweeby enough and probably too tall. Wow! Those are two things that never apply to me.

“Circle in the Square” is a very unusual theater space. The stage juts out into the house with no offstage wings. The audience surrounds it on three sides.

It’s not a particularly large theater, and having the audience split into three makes it that much more intimate.

Helaine said she felt a little uncomfortable sitting sideways to the stage, as we did. I thought they were fine – and we certainly had great seats for half price.

Before I continue, if you’re reading this and have never been to Broadway to see a show – go. I’m not talking about a Broadway show touring your city with an all-Minnesotan cast.

There is nothing like live theater, especially when you are seeing the cream of the acting crop, as you are in New York City.

But, it’s more than the actors. The theaters, the staging, the lighting, the musicians – they are all very special to Broadway. There is no other experience quite like it.

Broadway has become very pricey. What used to be a New Yorker’s pursuit is now primarily there for tourists. You can get good seats to many shows for half price. I have never been disappointed when I’ve seen a show on tickets from TKTS.

Back to the show.

“The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee” follows the action at the bee, but of course is more than that. Each of the participants (two of whom could easily be played by an unamed friend of mine) has a back story. There is a subtext in everything that’s going on.

The dialog is clever. The music is OK, though there’s no tune for me to hum or memorable moment in the score. The play is performed so close to the audience that every action is a ‘tight shot.’

It is an ensemble cast of mainly young people, trying to look even younger.

The four audience members are integrated into the spelling bee and one-by-one, they are stumped (though when the script calls for them to stay, they are given words like “cow” to spell) and sit down.

At our performance, one of the audience members was an excellent speller. She got a word right that was obviously there to stump her. On her next turn, she spelled an even more difficult word.

Without missing a beat, she was given another, even more difficult word… a word which began with an “x” and went on for four or five syllables! It was obvious this was her time to sit down.

When she finally walked toward her seat, she was given a huge ovation. Really, quite sweet.

We enjoyed the show. It runs 1:45 without an intermission. That left us plenty of time to catch the 10:22 PM train back to New Haven… except the show began almost 10 minutes late!

We dashed from the theater and began walking to Grand Central. My legs are longer than Helaine’s. Advantage Geoff.

We huffed and puffed to 6th Avenue, then through the Diamond District (all closed on a Friday night – shabbot). I was wearing my atomic watch, accurate to the millisecond, and kept yelling out the time remaining.

Finally, a few blocks from the terminal, I had had enough. A cab was at the light and we hopped in. He took off and we then managed to hit every light the few blocks to GCT.

Helaine’s shoe was coming off… or coming apart. I’m not sure. It just wasn’t going well. We were living the Sandy Dennis, Jack Lemmon life from the original “Out of Towners.”

Our train left from track 15 – about a thousand tracks in from the main entrance. We were tired and I was sweating (Helaine might have been glowing – not sure) but we made it on board.

The train was crowded. Helaine said it looked like there were more than a few Rangers fans, going home after their game. There were more than a few people drinking beer and some loud, though controlled, laughter and discussions.

We rolled through the quiet Connecticut shoreline, getting to New Haven at 1:11 AM.

That’s a lot to do in one day!

&#185 – Since I’ve taken nearly 16,000 photos with my Canon Digital Rebel, it has earned a name: “Clicky.” Helaine, Steffie and I refer to the camera by that name – we really do!

New York City Trip Report – Day 1

Click here, or on any photo to see my album of photos from this trip.

It’s inside my wedding ring – 11/26/83. Helaine and I were married, just outside Philadelphia. In the beginning, I used the ring for reference to remember the exact date. Now, I know. It has been 20 years!

The past few months have been sort of rough, especially with Ivy passing away. Helaine thought it would be better if we were away on Thanksgiving and our anniversary. I agreed.

I had asked for November 26th off way back in December of last year. It was the last day of the very important November ratings book. To their credit, my bosses allowed me to take the day off. Twenty years is a milestone.

Helaine thought it would be fun to go to New York City, get a hotel, see some shows, do a little shopping, maybe catch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade and come home.

We had never used Priceline, but some folks at work had had success with it. I looked for a 4-star hotel in the Times Square area and bid. My first bid was rejected, but there was a suggestion that ‘maybe’ I’d get it if I upped the amount. I did, but in retrospect, I don’t think my Priceline deal was that hot.

I called the hotel to make sure the room would have two king size beds (we were taking Stefanie). No problem, but it would be a rollaway bed at $50 per night! And, of course, at this time my Priceline bid was locked in and non-refundable.

Helaine set out to get show tickets. Stefanie and I have gone into Manhattan on numerous occasions, standing in line at TKTS in Duffy Square and buying half price theater tickets. This would be different.

Helaine found pretty good seats for Six Dance Lessons in Six Weeks, starring Polly Bergen and Mark Hamil and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with Ashley Judd, Jason Patric and Ned Beatty.

Six Weeks was in previews but had been well received pre-Broadway. Cat had gotten very good reviews, especially for Ned Beatty. We ended up seeing neither play!

Six Weeks was lambasted by every reviewer I could find. This was the kind of awful play that critics take particular pride in crushing. It wasn’t long before we got a call from Telecharge saying the Thanksgiving performance had been canceled. Actually, the show closed.

Helaine set back to Telecharge and found Wonderful Town, a revival of a 1950’s show about 1930’s New York. I had been hearing radio commercials for this show and it hadn’t appealed to me. Still, there wasn’t much choice on Thanksgiving night, and I love the theater.

We set out for Manhattan on the morning of November 26. I had been up the night before writing a story for work and taking two tests for my courses at Mississippi State. Steffie got behind the wheel of the Explorer. Helaine got into the back and prayed for a safe journey.

Stefanie got a little highway time behind the wheel and taking us to Norwalk. We swapped seats and I took us the rest of the way into the city.

Traffic was unusually light, especially considering it was the day before Thanksgiving. I got in the wrong lane at a construction site in the Bronx and ended up having to double back though some side streets. Still, we made it to the Cross Bronx Expressway and West Side Highway without incident and breezed crosstown on 44th Street directly to the hotel.

The Millennium Broadway is an OK hotel in a great location. It is less than a block east of Times Square.

We knew parking wasn’t included and now we found out it was $45 per day! We were reminded again that a rollaway bed was $50. We headed upstairs to our room, 1716.

In most hotels a 17th floor room would provide you with a commanding view. Not here. The 17th floor is only barely above the roof lines of the smaller buildings in the area and provides no view of the street or anything farther than a few blocks away.

Our room was as small as any hotel room I’ve ever been in. The king size bed took up most of the space. There was a small desk, color TV, microscopic closet with a moderate sized safe, and a few smaller chairs. One entire wall was windows.

The bathroom was normal sized with incredible water pressure. I have never seen a bathroom sink that could puncture your hand with its water pressure before this one. Towels were moderate in size. The tub/shower had glass doors and was a decent size.

Helaine discovered the drain in the tub was stuck closed. I’m not sure how the housekeeper didn’t catch this. I tried to unstick it and it snapped off in my hand. I would later tell the front desk of this problem and it was repaired properly.

This being New York, we headed down to Canal Street. I’ve written about Canal Street before, so let it suffice to say, this is the place to go to get knock offs of all types.

There are a few very interesting points about Canal Street. First, how can the trademark/copyright holders not enforce their rights? Sales of Rolex, Movado, Luis Vuitton and a zillion other brands go on right in the open.

There is some ineffectual enforcement I believe, because from time-to-time, without warning, Nextel direct connect chirps will sound and black cloths will be quickly drawn over the display tables. In the small booths, metal rolldown doors will close. Essentially any visible evidence of knock off commerce will disappear.

The second interesting point has to do with the ethnic makeup of the business owners. Most shops seem to be run by ethnic Chinese. Canal Street skirts New York’s Chinatown. There are book sellers on tables set up curbside. These folks are Southwest Asian – either Indian, Pakistani, Sri Lankan or Bangladeshis. I’m not good enough to make finer distinctions. From time-to-time lone black men will move through the crowd pulling out watches in small display boxes. These men are all African, based on their accents.

If sales tax is collected on Canal Street or if any paperwork is kept, I’ve yet to see it!

Steffie bought a few watches and a head band. Helaine and I watched.

For our 20th anniversary dinner, Helaine made reservations at Rocco’s in the Flatiron District. Rocco’s is the scene of the reality show, “Restaurant.” We caught a cab after a few minutes of jockeying for the proper location and quickly moved uptown.

Our reservations were for 5:30, but we were early, so Steffie and Helaine popped into a local furniture store while I took some photos. From the Flatiron District the Empire State Building dominates the northern skyline.

In order to eat at Rocco’s you have to sign a bunch of waivers acknowledging that a TV show is being taped here and that you give up all rights to the production company. I signed, but am unsure how AFTRA (the performers union I belong to) would react to this.

It’s a moot point. I doubt I’ll be on the show.

Rocco’s is a nice Italian restaurant, undistinguished in most ways except for the camera crews running around, the cameras on the ceiling and the casting call fresh contingent of waiters and waitresses.

Helaine and Steffie had spaghetti and meatballs (the house specialty) while I had linguine with white clam sauce. Dinner was good, not great.

As we ended dinner, Helaine spotted Rocco’s mom. She is actually responsible for the spaghetti and meatballs. With the TV show she had become a minor celebrity. Pictures were taken, of course.

We headed uptown by cab toward the Music Box Theater and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. We got to the theater and heard the news: Ashley Judd was sick. She would not be performing tonight. Since she was the big star, refunds would be offered. Helaine and Steffie decided to pass on the understudy, and I went along. We weren’t alone. I believe most ticket holders walked.

There might be a back story here. Just the day before, in the New York Times, Ned Beatty had been less than kind toward Judd and Jason Patric. To paraphrase, they were working hard but didn’t have the chops that many unemployed Broadway actors had. It was not a glowing endorsement.

Since the show would be dark on Thanksgiving, taking Wednesday off would give Ashley two in a row and some time to get over what Beatty said. Was she sick? Was she pissed? I just don’t know. Ashley and I never did get together.

This left us without anything to do, but there was a possibility. We had heard the Thanksgiving Eve balloon inflation on the Upper West Side was very visual, so it was into a cab again.

Columbus Circle was already closed in anticipation of the parade, so we went far west and scooted up to the 70’s before cutting back to Central Park West. We followed a crowd to what we thought was the one block line to the balloons. Nope. Once we got to where the entrance should be, we found out there was another 2, maybe 3, block wait.

Too much. We headed back to the hotel.

In retrospect that was a great idea because Thanksgiving Day was going to be quite full and begin very early!

Click here, or on any photo to see my album of photos from this trip.

New York City trip – The Producers

Ivy the dog is still in the hospital There was some improvement today, which I’ll get to later. Still, Helaine felt it was best for her to stay home… and she did.

Steffie and I took our three tickets to see The Producers, got in the car around 9:00AM, and headed into New York City. After Dunkin’ Donuts and gas (there’s a joke here somewhere), we hit the open road, convertible top down.

This was actually risky. The mostly cloudy sky turned overcast as we moved west from Bridgeport (In Connecticut, the east-west Connecticut Turnpike is labeled north-south. This makes a geographically challenged adult population even more confused). I expected to have to pull over, under an underpass, at any moment to get the top up. But, by the time we hit the Cross Bronx Expressway, the sun had returned and the air began to get steamy.

The trip to New York, though shared with lots of other cars, was never hampered by traffic.

We followed the CBE to the West Side Highway (following the Last Exit in New York signs) and headed south along the Hudson River. The view to New Jersey was a little hazy. The river itself was pretty empty.

I parked the car ($30, thank you) on West 44th Street, just west of 8th Avenue. I always put up the top when parking, even in attended parking, and that was a good thing, since it later rained.

It was near 11:00 AM and the show wasn’t until 2:00 PM, so we headed into the subway at the corner and went downtown to Canal Street.

For some unknown reason, I thought the IRT #1 train would be the closest (it wasn’t). I mention this, because the subway stairs at 8th and 44th bring you to the 8 Avenue Line IND station with connecting corridors to the IRT (mentioning IND and IRT only helps to show I’m getting older. These labels, a throwback to the era when some subways lines were privately owned, haven’t been used in decades.) It seemed like we were walking to Canal Street as the narrow, tiled, dingy, hot tubes led up and down, left and right, until we were on the downtown platform. We took the express a few stops and then walked across the platform to take the #1 to Canal.

New Yorkers leave the city in droves during the summer, and I’m sure that’s especially true for Labor Day weekend. At the same time tourists pour in. Canal Street was jammed.

Maybe I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m sure Kate Spade, Christian Dior or Louis Vuitton (is there really a Louis Vuitton?) would clutch their collective chests and fall to the ground in cardiac arrest if they ever saw Canal Street. Everything is a knock off… but a nearly perfect knock off.

When a bag says Prada on the outside, it also has Prada on the hardware and Prada “franked” on the leather inside. It’s a pretty thorough job.

Today, I actually stopped as I bought a bottle of Poland Springs water from a vendor, thinking maybe it too wasn’t the real thing. Hey, it’s Canal Street, who knows?

I continue to look, to no avail, for a Breitling combination analog/LCD watch. Obviously, Breitling has them, but that’s a little out of my price range for a watch… maybe not for a car, but for a watch.

Steffie went bag, wallet and shoe shopping. Is it an obsession? Sure. There should be some 12 step program to get her back on the right track. But, at least on Canal Street you can indulge your fantasy. She bought a few things, including some shoes she had been lusting after.

I found a few computer books. One was on Perl, a computer language (which will not make my spell checker happy) used on websites like this one, that I want to learn. The second had to do with Cascading Style Sheets. Again, it’s a concept used on this website and something I had heard about for years without understanding. Like Perl, if I’m going to administer this site, I need to learn at least a little bit about it. Books on Canal Street go for 1/2 retail price or a little less.

A few Canal Street observations. There is a street side display ad for Tag Heuer watches. These watches are sold on Canal Street… they’re just not real. It’s an odd place for an ad like this.

Canal Street is old and tired. There hasn’t been new construction here since the 1930’s or maybe earlier. Little shops are crammed into spaces no larger than a small closet. And, my guess is, this was never an upscale neighborhood, even back in the day. That’s why it was interesting to see beautiful detail work on some of the older industrial buildings.

Finally, even in the midst of urban congestion, people find comfort in things growing. I found this ‘city garden’ on a fire escape. There’s no doubt it’s against fire code, but it is nice to see.

With a 2:00 PM curtain, we headed back into the subway and north to the 42 Street stop on the E train. Up the stairs and, astoundingly enough, we were a half a block from the theater. But, there was a problem. We had Helaine’s ticket!

A try outside the theater yielded nothing. It didn’t seem like the right place to sell it. So, we headed to the TKTS booth in Duffy Square. This is where you’d likely find people looking for tickets, and Producers tickets were always tough to come by.

I walked parallel to the line at TKTS. “Single ticket to The Producers.” Once, twice, three times… and then as I was about to try one more time, Steffie turned me to a woman in line who was interested. She asked how much? I hadn’t thought about it, so asked her to make me an offer. She said half, and the deal was done.

As it turned out, she was Japanese, in New York by herself (though she said she had friends there) and had only come in earlier in the day. She was about to sit dead center in the 6th row, and I was subsidizing 50% of the cost.

The Producers was excellent. It is everything the movie was, though the story has been adapted and simplified for the stage. The current cast is considered “B” next to Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane. Even then, like most New Yorkers, some of the biggest players were out-of-town, replaced by stand-ins. Lewis J. Stadlen, the lead, was replaced by John Treacy Egan, which meant Egan was also covered by an understudy.

I would very much like to see the show again, with Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick. As the originators of Bialystock and Bloom, and with the theatrical clout to be a little ‘over the top’, my guess is they bring the show up a few notches.

The dialog and sensibility of the show was pure Mel Brooks. You could hear his voice in nearly every line. And, in fact, his voice was heard (lip sync’ed by an actor) during Springtime for Hitler; “Don’t be stupid, be a Smarty – sign up with the Nazi Party!” I believe he did this line in the film as well.

Brad Musgrove as the astoundingly gay Carmen Ghia was a hoot. He got the biggest ovation of the non-principals.

After the play broke, we headed away from the car, and back toward Times Square. Steffie wanted a henna tattoo, which we never found.

We did see a few things in Times Square that you only see in Times Square. The most notable is the “Naked Cowboy.” It is, stripped to its essence, a man wearing a cowboy hat, boots and underwear. That’s it. He charges to pose for photos, and does a pretty brisk business.

For the cowboy challenged, there was also Spiderman, available for a price. In the spirit on New York, I doubt any of his take goes to the copyright owner.

What we did find was rain! What had been a sprinkle as we left the theater turned into a downpour. We were near 42nd Street by this point, so we headed to the ESPN Zone. With a 30 minute wait, we turned back up Broadway and ended up at Planet Hollywood.

When in Times Square, Steffie and I eat at Planet Hollywood more often than not. The food was fine, but more importantly, the restaurant was dry. We were soaked when we got in. Luckily, the camera, books, bags, shoes and the like were in plastic bags. Steffie’s purse had been outside, but tonight, it seemed none the worse for water.

We headed back to the car, only to run into the New York City Fire Department. Something was going on above West 44th Street. Four or five pieces of fire rolling stock and at least a dozen, firefighters (each wearing oxygen packs) stood around chatting as a ladder was extended from a truck and two firefighters climbed to the roof of the theater adjacent to the St. James (where The Producers plays).

If there was cause for alarm, it was well hidden. No one was breaknig a sweat. Steffie wanted to stay and watch, which we did for a few minutes. But, as time went on, it became clear that whatever was going on, was going on out of sight… and wasn’t all that dramatic.

By 6:00 we were in the car, turned north on 8th Avenue, and headed home… with the top down.

Best of New Haven Advocate

Ivy the dog is still in the hospital There was some improvement today, which I’ll get to later. Still, Helaine felt it was best for her to stay home… and she did.

Steffie and I took our three tickets to see The Producers, got in the car around 9:00AM, and headed into New York City. After Dunkin’ Donuts and gas (there’s a joke here somewhere), we hit the open road, convertible top down.

This was actually risky. The mostly cloudy sky turned overcast as we moved west from Bridgeport (In Connecticut, the east-west Connecticut Turnpike is labeled north-south. This makes a geographically challenged adult population even more confused). I expected to have to pull over, under an underpass, at any moment to get the top up. But, by the time we hit the Cross Bronx Expressway, the sun had returned and the air began to get steamy.

The trip to New York, though shared with lots of other cars, was never hampered by traffic.

We followed the CBE to the West Side Highway (following the Last Exit in New York signs) and headed south along the Hudson River. The view to New Jersey was a little hazy. The river itself was pretty empty.

I parked the car ($30, thank you) on West 44th Street, just west of 8th Avenue. I always put up the top when parking, even in attended parking, and that was a good thing, since it later rained.

It was near 11:00 AM and the show wasn’t until 2:00 PM, so we headed into the subway at the corner to head to Canal Street.

For some unknown reason, I thought the IRT #1 train would be the closest (it wasn’t). I mention this, because the subway stairs at 8th and 44th bring you to the 8 Avenue Line IND station with connecting corridors to the IRT (mentioning IND and IRT only helps to show I’m getting older. These labels, a throwback to the era when some subways lines were privately owned, haven’t been used in decades.) It seemed like we were walking to Canal Street as the narrow, tiled, dingy, hot tubes led up and down, left and right, until we were on the downtown platform. We took the express a few stops and then walked across the platform to take the #1 to Canal.

New Yorkers leave the city in droves during the summer, and I’m sure that’s especially true for Labor Day weekend. At the same time tourists pour in. Canal Street was jammed.

Maybe I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m sure Kate Spade, Christian Dior or Louis Vuitton (is there really a Louis Vuitton?) would clutch their collective chests and fall to the ground in cardiac arrest if they ever saw Canal Street. Everything is a knock off… but a nearly perfect knock off.

Today, I actually stopped as I bought a bottle of Poland Springs water from a vendor, thinking maybe it too wasn’t the real thing. Hey, it’s Canal Street, who knows?

I continue to look, to no avail, for a Breitling combination analog/LCD watch. Obviously, Breitling has them, but that’s a little out of my price range for a watch… maybe not for a car, but for a watch.

Steffie went bag, wallet and show shopping. Is it an obsession? Sure. There should be some 12 step program to get her back on the right track. But, at least on Canal Street you can indulge your fantasy. She bought a few things, including some shoes she had been lusting after.

I found a few computer books. One was on Perl, a computer language (which will not make my spell checker happy) used on websites like this one, that I want to learn. The second had to do with Cascading Style Sheets. Again, it’s a concept used on this website and something I had heard about for years without understanding. Like Perl, if I’m going to administer this site, I need to learn at least a little bit about it. Books on Canal Street go for 1/2 retail price or a little less.

A few Canal Street observations. There is a street side display ad for Tag Heuer watches. These watches are sold on Canal Street… they’re just not real. It’s an odd place for an ad like this.

Canal Street is old and tired. There hasn’t been new construction here since the 1930’s or maybe earlier. Little shops are crammed into spaces no larger than a small closet. And, my guess is, this was never an upscale neighborhood, even back in the day. That’s why it was interesting to see beautiful detail work on some of the older industrial buildings.

Finally, even in the midst of urban congestion, people find comfort in things growing. I found this ‘city garden’ on a fire escape. There’s no doubt it’s against fire code, but it is nice to see.

With a 2:00 PM curtain, we headed back into the subway and north to the 42 Street stop on the E train. Up the stairs and, astoundingly enough, we were a half a block from the theater. But, there was a problem. We had Helaine’s ticket!

A try outside the theater yielded nothing. It didn’t seem like the right place to sell it. So, we headed to the TKTS booth in Duffy Square. This is where you’d likely find people looking for tickets, and Producers tickets were always tough to come by.

I walked parallel to the line at TKTS. “Single ticket to The Producers.” Once, twice, three times… and then as I was about to try one more time, Steffie turned me to a woman in line who was interested. She asked how much? I hadn’t thought about it, so asked her to make me an offer. She said half, and the deal was done.

As it turned out, she was Japanese, in New York by herself (though she said she had friends there) and had only come in earlier in the day. She was about to sit dead center in the 6th row, and I was subsidizing 50% of the cost.

The Producers was excellent. It is everything the movie was, though the story has been adapted and simplified for the stage. The current cast is considered “B” next to Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane. Even then, like most New Yorkers, some of the biggest players were out-of-town, replaced by stand-ins. Lewis J. Stadlen, the lead, was replaced by John Treacy Egan, which meant Egan was also covered by an understudy.

I would very much like to see the show again, with Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick. As the originators of Bialystock and Blum, and with the theatrical clout to be a little ‘over the top’, my guess is they bring the show up a few notches.

The dialog and sensibility of the show was pure Mel Brooks. You could hear his voice in nearly every line. And, in fact, his voice was heard (lip sync’ed by an actor) during Springtime for Hitler; “Don’t be stupid, be a Smarty – sign up with the Nazi Party!” I believe he did this line in the film as well.

Brad Musgrove as the astoundingly gay Carmen Ghia was a hoot. He got the biggest ovation of the non-principals.

After the play broke, we headed away from the car, and back toward Times Square. Steffie wanted a henna tattoo, which we never found.

We did see a few things in Times Square that you only see in Times Square. The most notable is the “naked cowboy.” It is, stripped to its essence, a man wearing a cowboy hat, boots and underwear. That’s it. He charges to pose for photos, and does a pretty brisk business.

For the cowboy challenged, there was also Spiderman, available for a price. In the spirit on New York, I doubt any of his take goes to the copyright owner.

What we did find was rain! What had been a sprinkle as we left the theater turned into a downpour. We were near 42nd Street by this point, so we headed to the ESPN Zone. With a 30 minute wait, we turned back up Broadway and ended up at Planet Hollywood.

When in Times Square, Steffie and I eat at Planet Hollywood more often than not. The food was fine, but more importantly, the restaurant was dry. We were soaked when we got in. Luckily, the camera, books, bags, shoes and the like were in plastic bags. Steffie’s purse had been outside, but tonight, it seemed none the worse for water.

We headed back to the car, only to run into the New York City Fire Department. Something was going on above West 44th Street. Four or five pieces of fire rolling stock and at least a dozen, firefighters (each wearing oxygen packs) stood around chatting as a ladder was extended from a truck and two firefighters climbed to the roof of the theater adjacent to the St. James (where The Producers plays).

If there was cause for alarm, it was well hidden. No one was breaknig a sweat. Steffie wanted to stay and watch, which we did for a few minutes. But, as time went on, it became clear that whatever was going on, was going on out of sight… and wasn’t all that dramatic.

By 6:00 we were in the car, turned north on 8th Avenue, and headed home… with the top down.