"Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana." - Groucho Marx

A nemesis of mine... At work and at play.... The City of Chicago's department of Streets and Sanitation. Yesterday, my 10 minute drive down Ashland Avenue became a 25 minute exercise in self restraint and introspection. I literally experienced the five stages of death as I (and about 20 other unluckies) traveled south on Ashland Ave. from Foster to the river at Clybourn St. We all drove 15 mph behind two yahoos in their big, mean Garbage Trucks. Who has time for this? The 21 unluckies behind said rolling road block, apparently.
• Denial and isolation: "This is not happening to me."
• Anger: "My time is valuable!"
• Bargaining: "Just let me drive the speed limit and I'll be fine."
• Depression: "I can't bear to drive so slowly."
• Acceptance: "ok, what song shall I sing?"

Something upbeat, something catchy...with hope and humor... Mr. Goldstone came to mind... So I sang...

"Have an eggroll...

Mr. Goldstone....

Have a napkin, have a chopstick, have a chair.

Have a spare rib, Mr. Goldstone...

Any spare that I can spare I'll be glad to share!

Have a dish, have a fork, have a fish, have a pork.

Put your feet up. Feel at home...

Have a smoke, have a Coke.

Would you like to hear a joke? I'll have June recite a poem!

Have a leechie, Mr. Goldstone...

Tell me any little thing that I can do.

Ginger peachy, Mr. Goldstone...

Have a kumquat, have two!

Everybody give a cheer.

Santa Claus is sitting here.

Mr. Goldstone I love you!"

Music by Jule Styne
Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim

Merry Christmas

A quiet, private Christmas is a lovely Christmas. Apple pie for a late breakfast, a long walk up the lake shore and down Michigan Avenue without my camera, commitments or worries. Happy, loving phone calls, small, perfect presents, occasional glimpses of the Larry King Marathon, currently enjoying Broadways Lost Treasures II and III on PBS...

Coolest Christmas tree

I've had in years......

Peace.

And Quiet.

Merry Christmas 2006.

Damn... I meant to see this...

Frank's Home by Richard Nelson directed by Robert Falls at The Goodman. World premier.

...about Chicago architect Frank Lloyd Wright and his mentor Louis Sullivan.

Damn. I'm just now catching my breath after the mad dash at work. Peter Weller was Frank Lloyd Wright and Harris Yulin was Louis Sullivan. Closed yesterday. Time flew. Never had a moment. I didn't finish working before 8PM more than a few evenings these past few weeks.

Chris Jones of The Chicago Tribune said...

"And this isn't just a play about Wright — played, incidentally, with sizzlingly amoral articulation by the polyphonic actor Peter Weller... ...Sullivan's inglorious fate — a one-room apartment, a shaking hand at the drafting table, little work or contemporary recognition in Chicago — heightens the pathos. Yulin plays Sullivan as a defeated architectural colossus overwhelmed by sadness. And in Falls' production, this contrasts beautifully with Weller's frenetic verbal energy. Sullivan and Wright sit in their chairs for long stretches, alternately railing against the world and bantering with it, like the two tramps in "Waiting for Godot."..."

Now it's off to Playwrights Horizons in NYC. Chicago was the place to see it though. Where the two architects built our urban landscape. Damn.

A very Downtown Chicago Christmas Eve...

City Hall...
South Loop...
Daley Plaza...

...a merry, Chicago, foggy Christmas Eve eve...

Too busy for words...

Some of this weeks riches deserved further investigation. Although they didn't go unnoticed, the riches of my view of Chicago life were stilted by my desire to do a superb, triple checked, thought of everything, brilliant job at work. I still noticed though. And occasionally just turned the camera to the left...

Chicago's medium sized Christmas tree...

not sure what they were advertising.....

Urban magic hour.....

Sofitel.....

Tiffany's Christmas window.....

Holiday brass on Michigan Avenue.....

Old Sears parking deck.....
tip top tap...
Christmas light install in my courtyard...

Finally some good light arrived Friday...

Ridiculously cold weather all week only slowed me down slightly as I was properly dressed for the 9 degree Fahrenheit air that greeted me nearly every morning. I spent a good deal of time on Michigan Avenue in my layers of silk under cotton turtle, under light weight down vest, under the fleece jacket zipped into the Gortex parka. After Christmas, weather like this will keep the masses inside. Until then, I notice pockets of quiet light in the city...

...amidst the fast urban pace that I join, thrive on, laugh with, maneuver through every day.

Irony surfaces regularly.

Oh, What A Beautiful Morning

Michigan Avenue today....

"Oh, What A Beautiful Morning," when you put it on paper looks vapid, but it's not when it's sung. That's another thing he understood, which is how rich music is, and lyrics have to be underwritten. That's why poets generally make poor lyric writers. Not always, but generally they do, because the language is too rich. It's like what they call in England "over-egging the cake." It's over-enriching something, so that you get drowned in it. I firmly believe that lyrics have to breathe and give the audience's ear a chance to understand what's going on."

Stephen Sondheim Interview - July 5, 2005 - Los Angeles, California

Belting out "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" inside ones auto on an icy Michigan Avenue early morning is a great way to start a day...

Sorry Grateful

As Ravinia announces their 2007 summer season, I am noticing a lack of Sondheim amongst the musical productions. Frank Loesser's The Most Happy Fella, starring George Hearn, sounds good to me. It's certainly worth the trip out to Ravinia. But... it doesn't make my heart stop and sing with giddy expectation the way it has for each of the past seasons announcements at Ravinia.

This time last year I clicked on Ravinia's home page to see what magical Sondheim event was planned and literally stood up and gasped when I saw Gypsy was announced with Patti Lupone as Rose. That night at Ravinia... with Patti as Rose, Jessica Boevers as Louise, Paul Gemigani directing the world class Chicago Symphony Orchestra behind them, Lonny Price at the helm... was simply the most full, enriching, fully realized, soaring theatrical event I have ever experienced. The actual Magritte-blue sunset was the perfect backdrop... as if the whole Gypsy at Ravinia was an Event within the EVENT. Ravinia itself became part of why none of us will ever forget the perfect weekend that was. Even the cicadas added to the drama.

Just three performances... I feel so grateful to have been there.

All of us, including the performers and creatives, are better for what Ravinia has given us with its Sondheim Series.

Passion, A Little Night Music, Sweeney Todd, Sunday in the Park with George, Anyone Can Whistle, Gypsy...

Patti Lupone, Michael Cerveris, Audra McDonald... George Hearn, Paul Gemigani, Lonny Price... SONDHEIM.

Patti amazed me and moved me every season. Her Fosca still moves me, even on youtube. And Michael Cerveris... we were sooo lucky.

Bigger, louder, faster, funnier....

Back to work...

This week has flown by. Friday is only welcomed for the big relax that will come tomorrow. I need another 5 business days to get my business done this week. And another Assistant. Our flick is becoming ridiculously huge. And will be upon us in no time.

During particularly crazy, big, loud moments in the city this week I remember... ...that other world I visited for Thanksgiving.