Considering some of the things I've been into...

...you'd think I'd be a more disciplined writer.

God bless Ann Miller: The week in revue

I guess I have a lot to catch up on. Last week was pretty rough. I had taken the muscle relaxers my doc prescribed for my headaches last Sunday and I was stoned off my ass on Monday. Could barely get any work done. So I stopped taking them.

Wednesday I was meeting with my boss and could barely concentrate. I was trying to fake it but eventually fessed up to the fact that I was having major difficulties processing any of the materials we were going over. He's an MD so we talked about probable causes. I tried to blame the muscle relaxers, but as soon as I heard myself say that the side effect was lasting three days after I took the last dose, I knew that it wasn't true. (Not that that can't happen, it just wasn't the case this time.) I ended up telling him about the other meds I'm on, something I try to avoid doing ever, but like I said, he's an MD, so I figured he'd at least approach the situation clinically, which I guess he did. He asked if I needed any time off, but that seemed silly to me at the time. The conversation then turned to whether my psychological irregularities were going to affect my performance here - he threw in some jazz about the most important thing being my my well-being but, while I'm sure he (thinks he) meant it, came across as lip service. He's very matter-of-fact. It's on the the things I like about him. There are a lot of things I like about him, which is its own sort of problem but I'll get ot that some other time. Maybe. He needed to hear that I was taking some kind of action to address the situation (not crazy about that phrasing, but I was desperate to avoid the word "issues") so I figured I'd better tell him about the other meds.

Okay so that was Wednesday. Thursday I made it downtown and felt awful as soon as I stepped off the train. But I figured , What the hell, I'm already here, so I went in to work. I surveyed my desk, contemplated all the work i had to get done and went home an hour after I arrived Slept until noon. I can't really explain what was wrong, I just felt crappy. The thing that bothers me the most is that Shelby was on vacation last week, so I didn't get to see him on Thursday and maybe the whole thing was psychosomatic. Later in the day I was in the mood for some gritty crime drama and got ready to watch Hardcore, which had just arrived via Netflix, but decided to call Annika first. We ended up giggling a lot, which left me in a better mood, so I watched On the Town instead.

Friday I went to work and the headache was back. But I was lucid again, so I stayed at work. I think I took some Vicodin, but can't remember for sure. Friday night was a movie night at Paul's. Lotsa fun but very few people showed up, despite the number of positive responses on the evite. It seriously pissed me off. He puts a lot of work into these nights and people just seemed to disregard it. Anyway, it was Cult Movies 101. Started with Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!, which was pretty fucking awesome. Then a surprisingly good print of Todd Haynes's Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story, which was also pretty fucking awesome. I had to bolt before Pink Flamingos. Just too damn tired.

That brings me up through Friday.

I've Got the Pain (sans mambo)

I've been having headaches lately. Also slight dizzy spells, but those are nothing new (I'll probably explain why eventually). I've had these headaches before, a little over a year ago (or something). I don't know if they're stress-related or what, but my head was fucking killing me yesterday. They could be muscular. I've been mousing a lot lately and my right arm is pretty stiff, which could have work its way up along my neck (also stiff) to my head, but I don't know if the body actually works that way. I stayed home from work and by the afternoon was bored off my ass. I tried to do some stuff at my computer, but being at the computer way too long could be (and probably is) a big part of the problem.

I took Tylenol. I took Advil. I toox Excedrin Migraine. Nothing helped. I finally took a Vicodin and even that didn't do much. Mummy thought I was acting especially goofy on the phone last night, so I suppose I could have been on a Vicodin high, but I didn't feel high and - much worse - I was still in pain. Occasionally excruciating, but that could have been the episdode of Reba I watched (I was raised on marginal family sitcoms and wanted to reminisce).

Finally I took some Tylenol PM around nine, turned off the light at ten and proceeded to lay there, wide awake and in pain for at least two more hours. For some reason I came to work today and the sedative that did nothing for me last night maybe wore off about twenty minutes ago. And the earliest I can get in to see my doctor is Friday.

Music stuck in my head even though I'm not listening to anything: "Join the Circus"/Barnum, Original Broadway cast recording.

Quotable me: I'm not gay, I just like the taste of cock. - to a (non-sexual) chat room

My Weekend

Friday night I watched the first act of the 1983 Broadway revival of Mame, with Angela Lansbury. very good video for its age. A really splendid production that only lasted for a month and sent Lansbury off to Cabot Cove. I also spent a lot of that evening chatting. I'm trying to not write about my adventures in that chat room for a few reasons: my handle there links directly to this blog and I keep forgetting to change that; it just doesn't seem right to reveal the activities of an invite-only chat room; and, most important, the more I write about it, the more seriously I take it and the more seriously I take it, the more embedded I become in that particular microcosm. And I fucking hate microcosms.

Anyway, my whole point for bringing the chatting up is that I'm having difficulty with other gay men who seem to be much better at adulthood than I am. It brings out my insecurities - not hard to do, granted - which have been really hitting me hard this week. And they flared up again on Friday night over some nonsense that I can't even remember today. I needed a friend and luckily Annika was home. We ended up giggling a lot. We do that sometimes.

Oh, I also referred to the fact that I watch Family Guy. A chatter made a snide comment about the fact that I watch television and I told him to bite my shiny metal ass. Later it occurred to me that people who don't watch TV are probably not going to understand Futurama references, but that's his problem.

Just sort of hung out on Saturday. Spent a lot of time cataloguing cast recordings. Finished watching Mame and realized that the second act really devolves into drag queen camp but is still enormously enjoyable. Had dinner with Josh, who is moving to Vega$. Got home and watched Chicago.

Somehow Chicago has acquired the reputation as one of the less-worthy Oscar winners. Bollocks to that. It was a brilliant fucking musical then and it remains so. It actually looks better in retrospect, considering the stage musical adaptations that have come since: Rent's problems began with most of its cast being way too fucking old, but certainly don't end there. Dreamgirls's book scenes were woefully lacking the energy present in the musical numbers. Sweeney Todd had Helena Bonham Carter acting brilliantly but singing in head voice. I was disappointed in Hairspray, which was a great deal of fun, watered down the racial context of the stage musical, which really watered it down from John Waters's original film. I think of all of those films as missed opportunities, which makes Chicago all the more remarkable, even with its occasional overzealous editing.

Yesterday was just lovely. My friend John split up with his partner earlier this year and they had season tickets to everything. So he took me to see Ain't Misbehavin' at the Goodman and it was outstanding. The original cast album of the show is easily the most played album in my entire collection, and that's saying something. I've listened to it hundreds of times and have never gotten sick of it. I brought it with me to work at the Alley and even they loved it.

John is the biggest stud I've ever met. I don't know anyone who gets laid as often as he does. It's mind-boggling. We couldn't do anything after the show because he had to go meet up with someone else. He's hooking up with two guys from Cypress tonight that he spent part of the weekend with. Crazy.

(And yes. We do.)

Will they all be showtunes?

Pick an Album for Every year You've Been Alive (or, This Oughta Kill Some Time)

A new meme from The AV Club:

You're supposed to pick a favorite album for each year you've been alive. You can pick a record based on what you like now, or what you would havem picked that year assuming you were old enough to care.

Your undoubtedly incomplete reference guide: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_years_in_music

You can also go to castalbum.org (http://www.castalbums.org/recordings/?date=1976&page=1) and just change the year as needed.

I was gonna keep this private until I finished, but I may save it publicly for the hell of it.

1976: Pacific Overtures (Original Broadway cast recording)

1977: Annie (Original Broadway cast recording)

1978: Ain't Misbehavin' (Original Broadway cast recording)

1979 (tie): Evita (Premiere American recording)
1979 (tie): Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (Original Broadway cast recording).

1980: 42nd Street (Original Broadway cast recording)

1981: Merrily We Roll Along (Original Broadway cast recording)

1982: Pac-Man Fever (Buckner & Garcia)

1983: My One and Only (Original Broadway cast recording)

1984: Sunday in the Park with George (Original Broadway cast recording)

1985: Theatre of Pain (Mötley Crüe)

1986 (at the time): The Phantom of the Opera (Original London cast recording)
1986 (in retrospect): True Blue (Madonna)

1987: Into the Woods (Original Broadway cast recording)

1988: The Premiere Collection: The Best of Andrew Lloyd Webber (Compilation)

1989: Batman (Prince)

1990: I'm Breathess (Madonna)

1991: Beauty and the Beast (Soundtrack)

1992: Erotica (Madonna)

1993: Patti LuPone Live! (highlights)

1994: The Threepenny Opera (London Donmar Warehouse cast recording)

1995: Jagged Little Pill (Alanis Morissette)

1996: Rent (Original Broadway cast recording)

1997: Much More (Betty Buckley)

1998: Ray of Light (Madonna)

1999: magnolia.: Music from the Motion Picture (Aimee Mann et al.)

2000: American III: Solitary Man (Johnny Cash)

2001: 42nd Street (Broadway revival cast)

2002: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Once More With Feeling (Television soundtrack)

2003: Blackout (Dropkick Murphys)

2004: Fine and Dandy (Studio cast recording)

2005: The 25th Annual Putnam County Speling Bee (Original cast recording)

2006: See What I Wanna See (Original Off-Broadway cast recording)

2007: Legally Blonde (Original Broadway cast recording)

2008: South Pacific (Broadway revival cast recording)*
*This is the only 2008 album I've purchased this year and have actually listened to. I've heard a live boot of Adding Machine and suspect that I will love the album, but since I haven't actually heard the album, it seems unfair to add it to this list.

I was going to add some notes throughout, but decided to let the list stand on its own, with the exception of 2008. The difficult thing with the past few years is that most of the albums I buy have been around for a while. So far, my favorite acquisitions of 2008 is Diahann Carroll Sings Harold Arlen Songs (1957) and Alan Jay Lerner Revisited (1969). Also, much of what I listen to has not been commercially released, including one track of 2008's South Pacific.

On the way to work...

I've been making scads of acquaintences online lately, but most of them either live nowhere near Chicago or end up as really bad dates. So I was delighted this morning to see Red Glasses on the el. His name isn't Red Glasses, nor is that his handle. But he does wear red-framed glasses and that's how I recognized him. And we both watch House, so Red Glasses is like Cutthroat Bitch. Only nicer.

There's not much else to this story. We had a lovely chat until we got to my stop. He's a cutie but has a partner, which didn't bother me this morning as much as it has recently. It was just a nice way to start the day.

Music: "Blow a Fuse"/Betty Hutton (remade as "Oh So Quiet" by Bjork)

Did everyone else has a happy Passive-Aggressive Day?

So, after I wrote this post, mentioning the showtunes chat room in which I spend far too much time, I returned to said chat room, where the folowing exchange took place (in proper play format):

NOT ME

I thought you were going to bed.

ME

I was, but I did the dishes and blogged.

When I am in that chat room, my name links to this blog.

Idiot.

(Non-sexual) Things That Keep Me Awake at Night

The term, "the full monty" entered the American vernacular with the release of the film, The Full Monty.

In the world of the musical The Full Monty, that film does not exist. And yet, they use the term.

I like it when my paradoxes involve strippers.

This can't be good.

My mind has been all kinds of screwy lately. I've been way too honest with people, but that always been kind of a hallmark with me, so I can't really call that a symptom of anything. I have been especially needy and that really bothers me. I find myself telling people the kind of truths best saved for a diary (the paper kind you genuinely don't want others to see) in order to elicit a reaction and I'm settling for pity.

What the fuck, man?

I don't think I'm doing it consciously. Someone says something that prompts a response and I respond. It's just that my responses have been a little too revealing for my taste. The people in the showtunes chat rooom don't need to know that I have a worse track record than Shirley Devore.

What bothers me the most is that I'm recognizing behavior patterns from when I was in college. That's what I meant by the title of this post. I'm not friends with anyone I knew in college, by mutual decision on all sides. (I double-majored in Playwriting and Brooding) Granted, the friends I made in (no, that's not redundant, shut up) college were pretty fucking lousy but they were the only friends I had at the time and I needed them. Just as much as I need people now (and it don't feel so fuckin' lucky, Mr. Merrill). But I don't know how to need someone. I mean, the only time it's really acceptable to actually tell someone you need him is when you're physically impaired. But to be that emotionally naked and honest with another human being... how the fuck do you do that and then face that person the next day?

In the words of Amish Barbara Cook, "This is all very new to me."

Angst, etc.

This blog has been giving me angst lately.

Granted, as a full-blooded German Lutheran, I thrive on angst.

(Don't do that. No jokes. Or at least be funnier. )

See, I've been wanting to blog more lately. I don't know if it's a desire to write, a desire to express... who the hell am I kidding, it's because I just don't have anyone to talk to. I know that sounds sad and maybe it is sad - it sure as hell feels sad - but I'm not trying to elicit sympathy, just state a fact. I've never been especially popular and simply don't have many friends. And the ones I do have all have someone else. Not other friends. Boyfriends. Or husbands. Or wives. Some have children. And I don't. And I never have.

I mean, my God, the only person that I can completely count on is my shrink. Isn't that pathetic? That I have to pay someone to trust? And I can't exactly call him up whenever I need to hear a friendly voice. He has other patients and a life of his own. But where does that leave me?

I've been making more friends online lately, but none of them live anywhere near me and it just takes so long to break in someone new. The narcissism, the mood swings, the never-ending identity crises, the constant angst, the sarcasm, the insecurity - my God, the insecurity... I am not an easy pill to swallow and I constantly marvel at the tenacity of the people who put up with all my bullshit.

So why is my blog giving me angst - right. The point.

I had a different blog that I kept up pretty regularly for a couple of years. It started as a movie blog and as I became braver, it became more personal. I liked having the outlet. Only a few of my friends knew about it and it wasn't on a website known for blogging so I was able to maintain a modicum of anonymity. I'd kind of like to start that kind of blogging again and just sort of distance myself from it as the known contributor. But the url has been in my signature for ages - one of my initial goals for starting this blog was to develop some (undefined) stuff under my own name. And if I'm going to write very personally, I don't want people knowing who I am.

Because they judge you.

And because I want to write about people I know with the freedom of not worrying about hurting anyone's feelings.

And I'd like to add sex, which should be kept private anyway. (Not out of shame or prudence. It's just tacky.)

I probably shouldn't even post this, but what the hell. I've said all this to Paul already and I would say it to Annika and I'm pretty sure those are the only two reading.

I'm trying to throw a lyric in here. It just seems like it's needed. Usually when I'm all muddled like this, my unconscious develops its own soundtrack and starts throwing songs at me, but nothing's coming at the moment.

Fuck.

Vitamin V

About a year or so ago, I started having tremendous headaches. (not migraines). I went to a doctor. he gave me Vicodin.

In February, I slipped and hit my head (I have no idea if I ever blogged about that) and my doctor gave me more Vicodin. I filled the prescription, but didn't really touch it, since I had some left over from before.

Yesterday and today the headaches have been back. I went to my stash and now I am off my ass.

Not much of an update, but who the fuck cares?

Showtunes of the Day:

Kurt Weill Revisted. (Just listened to Ann Miller sing and tap "Moon-Faced, Starry-Eyed")

Kurt Weill Revisited Vol. II.

(courtesy: Greg)

Now it can be told

A while ago (Tuesday, 3/25) I posted about how I had a lot of things on my mind, but couldn't really talk about them.

Now I can.

And will.

That Friday, I was supposed to find out whether or not I got a job. That Saturday morning, I had a writing workshop where I was presenting a completely new take on the script I've been writing. That Saturday night, I had a date with a guy I met online who I really, really wanted to fuck* liked.

It was stressful. It was exhilarating. It gave me stomach cramps.

I didn't find out about the job that Friday. Or the following Monday. Or Tuesday. As it happened, my HR contact was unexpectedly out of the office. It was nerve-wracking, but all worked out for the best. I started yesterday and I love it. I mean, okay, I'm not getting paid to write or have sex with any one of a number of movie stars, but as far as day-jobs go, it's a winner.

My script was very well received. I don't really want to go into any more detail.

As far as the date... There was this, which I could have overlooked as "he was nervous and didn't mean to drink that much," but I have discovered some more upsetting habits of his that I may or may not describe in more detail at another time.

*The only alternatives to "fuck" I could think of were either pointless substitutions or phrases that ended in a preposition. Also, I really, really wanted to fuck him. After we met, I really, really, really wanted to fuck him. Then he peed in the street and it was back to "really, really."

Dear Saturday Night's Date,

Everything that happened before you peed in the street was just lovely.

I just came very close to sending this exact message. Because it was. It really was.

Brisk, lively, merry and bright

We spin and we spin and we spin and we spin,
Playing a game no one can win.

I've had a lot on my mind lately. A couple of things in my life may be in for some major changes, and I think that this sense of suspended animation is having a domino effect on my unconscious, stirring up a lot of other neuroses in turn.

I'd like to go into everything that's bothering me. I'd fucking love to go into everything that's bothering me, but part of the problem is that, despite the insomnia, I don't have enough time to do anything. So you're going to have to settle for this incredibly - and increasingly - vague post. In a week, I'll probably re-read it and not know what the hell it is I meant. Or at least I would if I ever re-read any journal entry in any of the various diaries I've kept in my life. But I don't.

Last night, while trying to fall asleep, I found myself rationalizing my love of musical theatre. Or maybe it was this morning on the train. I have no idea. One of the conclusions I came to was the abundance of truths to be found in great lyric-writing. The above is a perfect example of how I've been feeling lately. It's from the title song of Rodgers & Hammerstein's Allegro (1947) (the title of this post comes from same.) The spinning isn't just the chaos of living, but the cycle of life, the spinning of the globe on its axis and around the sun. Calling life "a game no one can win" reveals a cynicism not usually found in the work of Hammerstein.

He revisited this same idea in The Sound of Music (1959). In the show, Max and Baroness Schrader have two songs that were both cut from the film. In "No Way to Stop It," Elsa and Max explain to Georg their laissez-faire philosophy towards life, politics and, um, the Nazis:*

MAX
While somersaulting at a cock-eyed angle,
We make a cock-eyed circle 'round the sun.
And when we circle back to where we've started from,
Another year has done.

And there's no way to stop it.
No, there's no way to stop it,
If the earth wants to roll around the sun.
You're a fool if you worry.
You're a fool if you worry
Over anything but little number one.*

The same world, still spinning, and there's not a damn thing we can do about it. It's the polar opposite of the cock-eyed Nellie Forbush's sang about in South Pacific. Both can exist and should, in the same world and in the same person.

Of course, theory and practice are nodding acquaintances at best.



*The other song, "How Can Love Survive," is a droll number about Georg and Elsa's relationship being doomed from the start because they're both rich and therefore have nothing to overcome. (Elsa: "You're fond of bonds and you own a lot. / I have a plain and a diesel yacht. / Max: Plenty of nothing you haven't got. / Both: How can love survive?) Buy the cast recording.

A Haiku:Rugburn

I only feel pain

When something touches my knees.

I grin and bear it

PS: You're welcome for the Christmas presents

Next week is Holy Week, the most sacred time of the Christian year and the basis of Jesus Christ Superstar. This came up in conversation last night (Holy Week, not JCS) when I was out with Paul and the Pinko. They both took swipes at Christianity, which the Pinko then confused with Catholicism (we're called Protestants, dumbass, and we exist).

Now, I have many criticisms of organized religion myself, and my spiritual life has been marked by a skepticism that borders on hypocrisy. I understand the logic behind atheism and can see how a person comes to adopt that point of view. A lot of my friends are atheists and that's fine with me. It's their choice, I accept it, and it becomes a jumping off point for banter.

But mocking Lent and Holy Week? What the fuck? Seriously, would you make fun of Jews on Yom Kippur? And is this not a display of the same sort of intolerance we're accused of practicing ourselves (it exists, yes, be we're not all like that)?

I let it go at the time (hence the venting here) with the same eye roll I use on people who think my love of showtunes is an indication of my masculinity. Grow up and get a fucking clue.

Revealing Statements

I find him suspiciously nice.

I'm just sick of everyone else's positive attitude.

I've said both of these things in the past week and I think they say far more about me than I intended. The first was about a guy from a pick-up site gentleman caller. The second about my current job situation. I used to embrace my cynicism, but I'm starting to worry that it's overtaking me and devolving into bitterness. On the other hand, considering what I've been through in the last 18 months, both statements are completely warranted.

Ugh.

Sunday was such a lovely day, I decided to top it off with Chinese for dinner and ended up with food poisoning. So I stayed home yesterday and watched Now, Voyager. I watched Dark Victory on Sunday - part of the aforementioned loveliness. She was one hell of an actress. Granted, these are two of her very best performances, but both were much more detailed and nuanced than I had remembered.

Catching Up

There are many reasons I've been lax here. First, I'm pretty sure no one's reading. Also, I have a short attention span.

Does two count as many? Whatever.

Some recent show tunes include:

Show Girl: 1961 Original Broadway cast (Gaynor) The one and only Carol Channing.

Say, Darling: 1958 Original Broadway cast (Styne/Comden & Green)

Song of Norway: 1944 Original Broadway cast member (Grieg/Wright & Forrest) Original star Irra Petina's role was taken by Kitty Carlisle on the Decca original cast album (I thinl it had something to do with contract exclusivity). So, she recorded six songs from the show, released on three 78s, which I found for $3.

LoveMusik: 2007 Original Broadway cast, live (Weill/various) Not that I own any bootlegs.

Spring Awakening: 2006 Original Broadway cast (Shiek/Sater) I like it more every time I hear it, though it is somewhat reviled by many show queens.

Judy Garland: The Complete Decca Masters (various) All four discs. In one day.

Misery: 2000 Demo recording (De Young) Based on the novel by Stephen King. It's no Carrie. But then, nothing is. (Love that artwork, though.)

I know that there have been others - I do listen to showtunes constantly. I just don't remember what any of them are.

In other news, I slipped on the el platform yesterday and gave myself a concussion.

Haiku Appreciation Is a Lost Art

Lately I've been obsessing over Pacific Overtures. I've the three studio-produced cast albums. I've got both published versions of the script. What I don't got is the video of the original Broadway production that was made for Japanese television, but never shown in the US. Now, I know a lot of collectors and I figure one of them has to have it and may be willing to make a copy for me. Here's how I posted my request:

The show-loving man
Having no film of his own
Asks the internet

When was the last time you saw someone post a request online for anything as a haiku?

See, Pacific Overtures is about Japan and the song "Welcome to Kanagawa" contains the following:

The nest-building bird

Seeing the tree without twigs,

Looks for new forests.

Several people responded to my post with suggestions, etc. as to how I can obtain this video. But not one single person commented on my haiku!

What the hell?