Tag: ESPN

I’m Writing About Norman Chad – What’s My Problem?

All of a sudden my DVR is going nuts taping shows. There’s Jon Stewart (as I’ve already mentioned), Boston Legal, Commander In Chief&#185, Call For Help (wearing out its welcome), ARLI$$ and ESPN’s poker coverage.

A few nights ago, I decided what makes ESPN’s coverage so good. First, it’s edited masterfully. No one is going to convince me the voice overs are done while the poker is being played – but that doesn’t diminish the show. More than anything, I really find Norman Chad funny.

Chad is a newspaper guy (I’m easily impressed by people who write well) first, and reading some of his columns, I ‘hear’ the same voice I hear on the poker broadcasts. I also saw his name on a very funny ARLI$$ episode.

What makes him good on poker is his ability to elevate the absurd to comedic proportions. Anything that anyone does on that broadcast is subject to his scrutiny and wit.

Other poker broadcasts, like the WPT on the Travel Channel, just don’t compare.

&#185 – I just started recording this last night, but I enjoyed the first one… not because of Gena Davis, but because of the deliciously mean Donald Sutherland.

Not Meant To Be Alone

Steffie, as has been well established, is away at college. Helaine took this weekend and joined a friend from Texas, seeing Rick Springfield concerts in the Midwest. I am holding down the fort at home.

The house has grown eerily quiet since Steffie left. It is even more quiet now.

I got home from work last night, changed out of my suit and went downstairs to play poker, watch TV and put off bedtime. ESPN Classic has begun running old episodes of ARLI$$ and I tape every one.

I didn’t get to bed until after 5:00 AM. I have no willpower when it comes to going to sleep.

My boss asked if I would work today and knowing there would be post-Rita explanations necessary, I said yes. Without that, this would have been a totally purposeless day. As it was, it was only partially purposeless and very, very quiet.

That’s it. It’s too quiet.

I’ve said this before, but even when we’re not chatting, having Helaine and or Steffie around the house is reassuring. It doesn’t make sense, but the house is different even when I’m downstairs watching TV and Helaine’s upstairs, hours into sleeping.

Tomorrow morning I get up early for the annual Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation “Walk to Cure Diabetes” (that’s a lot of capital letters). This is one of the most rewarding charity events I’m involved in all year. How can you say no to something that affects so many kids and their families?

By Sunday afternoon, the solitude returns. I’m sure there’s something worthwhile to do. I’m sure I’ll never be self motivated enough to do it.

Maybe The Revolution Will Be Televised After All

Gil Scott-Heron said “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.” I’m not sure this was what he was talking about, but based on what’s come out of London with the subway and bus explosions, he needs to rewrite the song.

The advent of cellphones with still and video cameras and the proliferation of fixed security cameras has changed everything. Not only did we see still images from the tunnels of the London subway system, we saw video too. It won’t surprise me if, as was the case in Spain, higher quality images from security cameras come out later.

The quality of the hand held cameras isn’t all that great, but it will get better with time. Actually, the quality of the video is inconsequential. The mere fact that we’re all able to be eyewitnesses is what’s important. We saw that demonstrated during the Gulf War when jumpy, pixelated videophones were the only live way out.

This trend of every significant human event being documented was even more evident in the pictures that came out of Indonesia, Sri Lanka and Thailand during the December tsunami. With many of the cameras connected to the Internet, these photos are available immediately.

Today convenience store robberies… gas station fires… even police traffic stops are all seen on TV – and seen often.

How will this affect us? Recently, while watching a baseball game on ESPN, a fan ran onto the field. The cameras immediately left the field so as not to encourage others.

Will all of this coverage encourage more terrorism? It’s possible.

On the other hand, there are many who believe the major factor in turning public opinion away from the Vietnam War was the constant images on the nightly news. Could images of carnage stop the violence we saw yesterday in England? That’s possible too. Or it just might serve to galvanize the resolve of those targeted.

This will be much easier to judge in hindsight. All I can say now is, things have changed. This genie is not going back in the bottle.

Poker’s Sting

Where have I gone wrong? I was doing so well a few months ago playing online and then “poof.” I’m still up, but I’ve been crushed. My stake is no longer an impressive multiple of the original buy-in.

Why? Well, I could be a conspiracy theorist and wonder if pokerstars has decided to stack the deck against me. I read things like that all the time. I don’t believe the theories, but I read them.

The answer is much simpler – I’m not playing as well.

I still haven’t quite figured out what I’m doing wrong, but I am trying to see where I’ve changed. I have also dropped down in class, playing at cheaper tables with the hope the competition is weaker and where I can stretch my money. After all, winning at lower stakes is much better than losing where the potential is high.

Meanwhile, as I often do, I have been playing on the computer and watching the World Series of Poker on TV. They’re replaying the 2004 tournament on ESPN this week.

Surprisingly enough, when they got to the final table’s telecast (at 2:00 AM EDT) instead of playing it back as it aired, a commentary by Greg Raymer was added. Raymer, from Southeastern Connecticut, won the 2004 WSOP and helped lower my taxes by bringing home $5,000,000.

I had seen him interviewed in the past, but only briefly – only in sound bites. This time he’s sitting in front of a TV, probably giving his commentary while watching a playback.

It’s incredibly interesting to watch and hear and he’s very impressive. He’s not a showboat, not a comic, but a very smart guy who understands the game at a mathematical level I’ll never reach. He’s soft spoken and classy – a radical change from 2003’s winner.

Make no mistake about it, he was lucky a few times on the way to his win. But, over time, a player is much more likely to fail because of luck than succeed.

The Eagles Win Ugly

The Eagles played the Washington Redskins in this week’s Sunday night matchup. ESPN isn’t ABC, and Sunday night isn’t Monday night. In other words this is less special nationwide, but critical for us, a family of Eagles fans.

It started terribly as the Redskins returned the opening kickoff most of the way down the field and then quickly scored. Then, amazingly, the Eagles returned the favor, scoring seconds later on their first possession. It looked like this would be a wide open shout out.

Bad guess on my part.

Helaine, who scours the Internet for anything good about the Eagles or bad about their opponent, knew there was bad blood between these two teams after Philadelphia had been accused of running up the score the first time they met. Some rumors said the Redskins would play dirty.

Bad guess on her part.

What we ended up watching was an ugly game. Donovan McNabb, one of the top few quarterbacks in the league looked awful. He drilled he ball to the carpet and gave up a critical interception. Terrell Owens, the Eagles trash talking wide receiver, fumbled the ball trying to stretch out a play within spitting distance of the end zone.

I like the ESPN announcers, but by halftime they were starting to sound like ‘homers’ rooting for the Redskins. I find that annoying. At least I did tonight.

The game had heartbreak written all over it. I knew it was bad because Helaine turned down the sound on the TV. Though the Eagles led, the Redskins continued to threaten until an interception in the final seconds locked it up.

The final score: Eagles 17 – Washington 14. It could have easily been the reverse.

The Eagles are now 12-1, much better than anyone could have imagined or asked for. Tonight they were referred to as the only true Super Bowl contender in the NFC. Yet this game only went to reinforce our worry that one off night, one blown play, could end it all.

Living and Dying With the Eagles

The Philadelphia Eagles are on Monday Night Football tonight. If you’re not a fan, let me make an analogy. Monday Night is to football as Carnegie Hall is to music. It is a showcase venue with no other games competing. All the fans, all the other players, are watching.

As Eagles fans, this game is especially important for Helaine and me.

OK – I’ll admit it. My wife is the bigger fan than I am. She’s been a fan longer and is more knowledgeable. And she lives and dies with the team.

Right now the Eagles are ahead – though I know she’s sitting there at home worrying about everything the Eagles can possibly do wrong. If the Vikings go ahead, she’ll turn the volume on the TV down and watch without listening.

If the Eagles win, tomorrow she’ll read every sports story, listen to every radio show, even stay up tonight for the post-game interviews on ESPN. If they lose, she’ll be incommunicado.

The shame of it all is no matter how the season ends, unless they win the Super Bowl, it will be a disappointment.

Why I’m Envious of Rick Allison

When I was a kid, growing up in the heart of the 50s, I knew the name and voice of every booth announcer on TV. There were men like Wayne Howell, Gene Hamilton, Don Pardo, Bill Wendel, Ed Herlihy, Fred Foy, Don Robertson, Bill Baldwin, Carl Caruso – you get the idea.

Back then, even when the show wasn’t live, the announcer was. There was someone sitting in a darkened announce booth at each station every hour of the broadcast day. It was all part of the agreement the New York stations, and networks, had with AFTRA (American Federation of Television and Radio Artists – I’m a member).

So, when you heard someone say, “This is NBC,” or “That’s tomorrow at 8, 7 Central time,” it was one of these guys, live. I knew them all. Secretly, I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to say, as Mel Brandt did, “The following program is brought to you in living color on NBC.”

It was not to be. In order to be a booth announcer you needed something I never had, and even at age 54 still don’t have – pipes.

When I was a disk jockey, doing mornings in Philadelphia, Julian Breen (who was in charge of programming at the station I worked for, WPEN) thought it might be a good idea to use a “Harmonizer” on my voice. That’s a device which would allow them to change my pitch – make me sound more grown-up.

When I worked at WIP in Philadelphia, at that time the premiere adult station in town, they gave me a pass on doing voice over production. With Tom Moran, Dick Clayton and Bill St. James on staff, there was no reason to use me.

It’s been a disappointment, but I understand. I just don’t have the most important natural tool for the job. My voice is unique, just not in the right way.

Today, I got an email from Rick Allison. He’s a friend who lives here in Connecticut. He is an announcer.

I’m not sure if that’s the job description he would use, but that’s what he does. From a studio in his basement, as well maintained and acoustically perfect as any, Rick reads other people’s words into a microphone and cashes checks. With high speed data lines carrying his voice, it’s usually not necessary to leave the house.

He is the voice of MSNBC and Bob’s Stores. He’s on ESPN, HBO and USA and a load of radio stations. You have heard him on a thousand commercials, a deep voice with a touch of gravel. It is friendly and assuring.

In person, he resembles everyone I knew in the 60s and 70s. That is one of his most charming features. He is at once commanding and disarming with long hair on his head and more on his face.

Rick does a show on Sirius satellite radio. My guess is, he does the show for the same reason other men raise tomatoes. It takes time and money to raise tomatoes. It’s not like you can’t buy them at the store – maybe for less than you can grow them. Still there’s an immense satisfaction in creating something of value.

Rick’s in radio for the satisfaction of growing something. I can’t believe he’s in it for the money.

Anyway, hearing from Rick today just reminded me of this childhood fantasy that would never be. It’s what got me into radio – and probably what finally got me out and into television.

I am envious of Rick, not because of the work he does, but because of the talent he has. It’s a talent I always wanted – a gift I never received.

Seven Thousand Three Hundred Five Days

Seven thousand three hundred five days ago, Connecticut still had toll booths on I-95 and the Merritt Parkway. There was no state income tax. Our governor, William O’Neill, was a tavern owner.

Back then, WTNH was a middle aged television station, owned by Capitol Cities Communications – before it bought ABC. It was second place in what was, for all intents and purposes, a 2 station market. A station with an identity crisis, not knowing whether to be Connecticut’s station or just concentrate on New Haven. It was making money hand-over-fist, which tended to minimize their concern.

On May 21, 1984, One thousand forty three weeks and four days ago, I walked into Channel 8 as an employee. If you would have told me twenty years ago that I’d still be there today, I’d have called you a fool. In my 11 years in radio, I had worked all over the country. No job had ever run more than 3 or 4 years – and most were much shorter.

Al Terzi (WFSB), Gerri Harris (who knows) and Diane Smith (WTIC radio, CPTV), were our main anchors. Bob Picozzi (ESPN radio, UConn Women’s basketball play-byplay) was our sports director. Our news director, the guy who hired me, was Mike Sechrist (General Manager WKRN – Nashville). His assistant, Wendie Feinberg (Executive Producer Nightly Business Report – PBS). In the control room, Tom O’Brien (General Manager KXAS – Dallas) and Jeff Winn (Fox Sports “Best Damned Sports…”).

Of all the on-air and management personnel at the station that day, only I am left. I have survived 4 different owners, 4 general managers, 10 news directors and countless dozens of assistants, producers, reporters and anchors.

Still, I often ask myself, where have I gone wrong?

That’s not to say my professional life hasn’t been good. In fact, it’s been great. This is a very rewarding job and the people who watch have been generous in their support, while my bosses have been… well, they’ve been generous too. I just wonder, what if?

Have I missed the bright lights of the big city? Would I have been able to compete at that level?

Today, if I were looking for work elsewhere, would I be taken seriously? A few years longevity is a good thing, but twenty years in New Haven makes it seem like I’ve been unable to escape.

Since I have been at WTNH, only four of the on-air people hired were older than I was at the time – and three of those came within my first year. This is a business of the young… and I say that even though this station isn’t anywhere near as youth obsessed as some others.

I remember early in my radio career, seeing people who’d been in one place too long, who were now just going through the motions. I promised myself that would never be me. I’ve kept my word.

It is still important to me, after all this time, to know whether I’ve entertained or not. There are no gimmes. A bad Friday night 11:00 weathercast can ruin my weekend… ask my wife.

Even tonight, I brought home a snippet of tape because a few seconds of well timed on-air chatter with the floor director seemed memorable. Every show counts. I am never unhappy to go to work. I have never taken, or needed, a ‘mental health’ day.

I still have my fantasy jobs – things I’d like to do and sometimes even dream about. I’d like to do a game show. I’d like to do a sit down fun chat show. I’d like to fill-in again on Good Morning America. Who knows?

I worry about losing a little off the fastball – about someone up-and-coming who might want my job. I worry about a new owner or manager who might not care that I’ve put twenty years in. After all, in the 21st century, company loyalty is something employees have toward companies… not the other way around.

About 15 years ago, my agent said there would come a time when I’d want to shave ten years off my age. I think I could actually pass with that lie. Until recently, I’d regularly get viewer mail telling me to stop coloring my hair… even though it’s never been colored. But, I won’t lie about my age because I’m proud to have the experience and knowledge that only comes with being 53.

I am not sorry that I’ve made it to 20 years. I am not disappointed in what I’ve accomplished. I have a wonderful life. I only wonder where the other paths led.

TV Sports Factory Outlet

Living here in Connecticut, I’m not far from ESPN, the self proclaimed, “worldwide leader in sports.” They are located in Bristol, not far from the tall, narrow building used by Otis Elevators as a test center for elevator technology (really – the vast majority of the building is taken up by shafts).

I had been invited by a friend, for lunch. Working in this market so long, I know a bunch of people there. What always strikes me as odd is that people at ESPN also know me. It was a little unnerving, a few years ago, to meet some of their higher profile talent and have them know me.

I last visited ESPN more than 20 years ago. Back then I marveled at their satellite dishes. That was nothing!

As you approach ESPN, crossing from Southington to Bristol, the first thing you see are the immense dishes… and dozens of them. Since we’re pretty far from the equator, and lots of the satellites are really positioned for Europe or the Pacific, most of the dishes are barely pointed above the horizon. It’s a Star Wars scene to say the least.

Inside is just as immense. My TV station looks like a Radio Shack compared to what’s going on at ESPN! With 10 TV networks (ESPN, ESPN2, ESPN Classic, ESPN News, ESPN Deportes, ESPN-HD, ESPN Atlantic, ESPN Pac-Rim, ESPN Latin America [Spanish], ESPN Latin America [Portugese] PLUS 24/7 ESPN radio PLUS regional feeds PLUS occasional domestic and international feeds… ESPN.com originates in Bristol as well), the place is hopping around the clock. Because weekday sports is a nighttime thing, the most action takes place during what’s traditionally 2nd shift.

Wherever you look there are edit booths (they’re named by letters of the alphabet, but they recently ran out and had to name the 27th “AA”). Some are traditional with multiple tape machines and possibly a switcher. More and more they are becoming non-linear editing stations where all the audio and video ‘live’ on hard drives and not tape decks.

Keeping a facility like ESPN up-to-date is exceedingly difficult. As you advance the technology, going digital in what was once an analog world, you have to make sure ‘legacy’ equipment still functions and that all the equipment plays well together. I don’t envy the engineers who deal with that. I have seen, as video and audio paths move through different processes, that they tend to move out of sync… so lips flap before (or after) the words come out.

One of the smallest pieces of equipment I saw was one of the most startling. An engineer was splicing fiber optic cable by fusing it using laser light. As the two ends to be connected approached each other, they were displayed on a small LCD screen. Then, the screen went white. As it faded back to the original scene, what had been two pieces was now one. It looked like something out of a James Bond movie.

With all the networks, and all the programming, moving ‘normal’ TV signals around the plant is a major undertaking. The 125 channel in-house cable TV system is about to add a digital tier.

Of course I went to the Sports Center studio. Da da dum, da da dum. It was reasonably large for a studio. Most people see a TV studio for the first time and are immediately struck by how small they usually are. This was larger than it would have to be were it not for the fact that the opposite wall was used as a set for the NFL shows. The studio has three cameras on pedestals and another on a ‘jib’, which enables it to smoothly fly in three dimensions for a little added sizzle. There is a walkway about the flats.

The coloring of the studio and its fixtures seemed a little cold in real life. The desk areas were much too reminiscent of a hip clothing store at the mall. Still, on the air it looks great and that’s all that counts.

The most surprising part of the trip, and ostensibly the real purpose of my going there, was the cafeteria. It looked like something from Vegas, with a pasta station, salad bar and open grill. My friend told me, as nice as it is, people still kvetch. That doesn’t surprise me – though they’re crazy if they do. It is an employees job to kvetch, and most do it really well.

Poker Status Report

This has been a pretty good weekend for me at the tables. I placed well in a bunch of $11 one table tournaments. We are down $27.40 since we started in mid-August. We have been up as much as $10 and then down nearly $150.

Though I was hot this weekend, Helaine is the better, more consistent player.

I watched a little poker on ESPN this afternoon after the Eagles game. They were poker pros… guys at the final table of a big tournament… and some were playing foolishly.

The more I play, the more I realize discipline is paramount. As conservative as I’ve become, I’m still a long way from where I want to be. You collect in tournaments by losing less, not winning more.

Stuff About Poker I Will Never Understand… Never

Tonight, after work, I decided to play a little poker. With Helaine’s help we’ve crawled back to even. Tonight, I added to that.

A quick recap. On August 12, I deposited $250 at pokerstars.com. We’d play until the money ran out. After a few weeks we were down around $150. It wasn’t going to last all that long.

My game tonight was a 2 table, 18 player tournament. Entry fee $5.50 ($5 into the pot, 50&#162 for pokerstars). Someone was going home with $36. Three others would win lesser amounts.

I played nearly 30 hands before going in the first time. After a few small wins, I drew one player all in to get fairly flush with chips, and then spent the rest of the game being cautious and protective. My finish was second, good for $27.

The winner was nearly out long before the final four. His miraculous save came by winning a lucky hand, filling in a straight with a 5 after he had gone ‘all in.’

As he and I played head-to-head for the top spot, a player who had been in the game started typing on the chat screen. He was ranking my opponent because he had won lucky. Truthfully, he was cruel and abusive.

But why? Because he was beaten in a $5.50 game? Where is the perspective in this man’s life?

Can the $5.50 really matter that much? And, even if you do lose to someone you consider an inferior player, over the long run, you’ll get your money back.

I want lucky players at the table, because their early luck only encourages them to chase for winnings, and hopefully, I’ll end up with some of their cash. When I play in these little tournaments, I assume that there are 3 or 4 players who have no idea what they’re doing… maybe they’ve seen poker on ESPN… and are getting educated.

But why was this busted player going after the chip leader?

In a brick and mortar casino, a manager would already be talking to him, letting him know that one more outburst would get him tossed (and they really will do that). Maybe it’s the perceived anonymity of the Internet… or he’s just an ass.

Actually, that’s more likely.

Rush Limbaugh at the Speed of Light

Wow. This whole thing has been played out at warp speed.

Sunday: Rush Limbaugh criticizes Donovan McNabb, Philadelphia Eagles quarterback (as Rush is entitled to do). Unfortunately, Rush prefaces his comments with a reminder that McNabb is black and the NFL wants black players and coaches to succeed.

Wednesday: The whole thing becomes a huge story. McNabb answers questions at a press conference. Limbaugh downplays it on his show. ABC as their ‘affiliate correspondent’ cut a national package which runs nationwide.

Wednesday night: ESPN starts distancing themselves from Limbaugh’s comments and Rush resigns.

Why did this wait until Wednesday? It happened Sunday morning.

And, now it looks like Limbaugh’s troubles are only beginning. The National Enquirer, which has broken some fairly big news stories over the last few years is running a front page story on Limbaugh’s alleged drug abuse!

I predict the future for a living but would have never, in a million years predicted this. Limbaugh is probably safe on the radio, where his core constituency might not mind racist comments, but he has major tsuris to deal with.

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.