Whine

I never bring up money. I think it's crass. However, I'm doing it this time because it's kind of a burr under my saddle today.

After the show, Missie and I stopped at Parnell's to wait for the parking deck to thin out. We were both starved, so we only had one cocktail (which I paid for) and then headed back to Cuyahoga Falls for some margaritas and Mexican food.
After a couple of rounds of margaritas, an appetizer and meals, the waiter dropped our check off and placed it between us at the end of the table. Having bought pre-show and post-show drinks (as well as the entire tab at Town Hall during our previous jaunt) I kind of thought Missie might want to pick up the dinner check. Instead, she put a page of coupons down on top of the check and continued talking. After a few minutes, I picked up the check to look at it. She offered some weak excuses about it probably was her turn to pay. In fairness, at that point I could have agreed and handed it over to her, especially since she bragged on the way to the show that she no longer looks at gasoline prices because she can afford it, regardless of cost. Instead, I chose to pay the $86 check and call it a day.

At one point and not that long ago, I would have called Missie one of my closest friends. Now, I have to lobby her to spend time with me and when we do, I am constantly struck by the differences in our lifestyles. She admits to being pretentious. She brags about how well off she is financially. With the exception of one friend, she talks casually how she has no time to really interact with any of her other friends. She isn't the same person. I'm willing to wait this phase out, as I have so many others (usually involving relationships with men in her life) but it is a tortuously slow, painful process this time.

As I said before, our last show in Cleveland this season is the end of an era, possibly in more ways than one. You have no idea how much it hurts me to type this.

Last Show: Green Day's American Idiot

Missie and I saw our last show together yesterday, Green Day's American Idiot. I went knowing nothing about the show. I would not say I'm a huge Green Day fan, but I'm pretty familiar with their music.

Initially, Missie and I chose to forgo any kind of pre-show food and beverage, but when we arrived at the theater 45 minutes early, we opted for drinks and Otto Mosher's. We managed to talk through two cocktails each, for which I gladly paid. Then, off to the show.

To my bemusement, the audience for this show was immediately recognizable as different from the usual Saturday matinee theater crowd. There were many, many fewer senior citizens and much more casual dress! In fact, the only older folks I saw were "Red Coats," the ushers who always volunteer at Playhouse Square.

The performance was a single act without intermission. There was very little dialogue -- the show being almost entirely a string of Green Day songs (with a real band onstage throughout the performance), interpretive dance and songs being performed by actor/singer/musicians. TV screens flash in the background throughout the show and strobe lights flare with regularity.

The show tells the story of three young friends: Johnny, Will and Tunny who decide to leave suburbia and move to The City. Will's girlfriend becomes pregnant and he decides to stay behind. Tunny joins the military and ends up wounded and losing a leg. Johnny remains in The City and lapses into a drug abuse downward spiral. The three reunite at the end and take stock of where their lives took them.

This is not your grandfather's musical theater. Swearing, partial nudity, simulated sex -- all were demonstrated throughout the performance. I wondered if the Red Coats were scandalized. (There were an awful lot of handsome young men with 2% bodyfat running around in their underwear onstage.) I loved every moment of the show! When the curtain came down the first time, I could barely wait to get to my feet for a standing ovation. As an encore, the cast, all strumming acoustic guitars, performed the Green Day song "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" and received a second standing "O".

The entire cast was marvelous, but special recognition goes to Jared Nepute as Johnny, Dan Tracy as Tunny and Olivia Puckett as Whatsername. Their acting and singing chops were unparalleled in this performance. A member of the ensemble, Liam Fennecken also caught my eye as the only male member of the cast who wasn't in the slim-fit club. He performed brilliantly and made it look effortless. Bravo!

There are three shows I want to see in the next Broadway season: Newsies, Kinky Boots and Pippin. I will see them by myself, if necessary -- like I did Once.

Catch-up: Porgy Debacle and Flashdance Surprise

Time to catch up on some show reviews and life news.

Missie and I went to see Porgy and Bess at Playhouse Square in Cleveland on Saturday, February 8. First, we stopped for brunch and beverages at Town Hall in Ohio City. I had a couple of gift cards I received from my co-worker Mark for Christmas, so we thought we would give it a try. The food was excellent, the drinks delicious and the atmosphere funky and fun. If it wasn't so far from Playhouse Square, I could easily see Town Hall becoming our new pre-show routine, replacing the late, lamented Bricco.

On the drive up to Cleveland, I gave Missie some preparation for seeing Porgy & Bess. I explained that it was an American opera, written by the Gershwins in the Gullah dialect, a blend of Creole and English used in some parts of the American South. I warned her that it is not a "feel good" show and pretty much no one gets a happy ending.

When we got to the theater and settled into our seats, Missie said that because it was fairly warm (for a change) that when we made our usual "shots and potty" run to Parnell's, she was going to leave her coat in her seat. I agreed it was a good idea.

The show started and I fell into my usual spell of becoming enthralled in the production and shutting out my surroundings. I have seen other productions of Porgy & Bess, so I knew the music and found myself comparing the Paulus adaptation to those other stagings. Summertime was appropriately haunting and beautiful. Finally, intermission arrived and I felt pretty good about the show.

As I got out of my seat and headed into the aisle, Missie called after me, shouting, "Tim, don't you want your coat? You want your coat!" I was confused, based on our previous conversation. I learned the reason for the turnabout as soon as we got outside the theater.

"I'm not going back. You can if you want to, But I don't like it," Missie declared.

"Okay, I'm not going back to see the rest by myself," I responded. "What didn't you like?"

"The way they sing in that operatic voice, especially the women. The register of their voices is so high it hurts my head. Also, you know I can't stand it when people don't use correct grammar. The language was driving me crazy."

I passed on the opportunity to remind her that I had explained both of these things before the show. I could see the writing on the wall. At the time, I just didn't know how large that writing was written.

Missie has been generally discontent about Playhouse Square since Bricco closed and we had trouble finding another spot within walking distance of the theaters to have lunch and drinks. But until this show, she seemed at least to generally enjoy the shows. Wicked, for example, had been a new favorite for her. she was traveling a lot for her new sales position and although she was generally home on weekends, her love for the theater seemed to be diminishing. Hell, at one time we discussed renting an apartment in the district to have a weekend retreat for theater-going! Now it seemed to be an annoyance.

Missie told me she would be unable to attend the next two shows, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat and Flashdance. She offered me the tickets. I ended up giving my nephew, Andrew, the tickets for his birthday. (He reported enjoying the show with his wife Marissa.)

I originally intended to give the Flashdance tickets to my friends Duane and Tim, avid musical theater buffs. But at the last minute, Tim was unable to attend, so Duane and I went instead.

I was expecting the show to be a campy remake of the cheesy 80's movie in the style of Xanadu. Instead, it was an intense, straightforward adaptation and performed beautifully by the cast. The musical numbers were flawless and the acting was superb. Duane and I both went away thoroughly impressed.

It was around this time that I got an e-mail from Missie saying that because of her travel she was voting not to renew our package for the next Broadway season. I was devastated. I can't afford the complete package by myself and I don't have a regular theater partner with whom to share the cost. I responded that since the tickets were in her name, her vote was really the only one that counted. In response, she said she would transfer the package to me if I wanted. I told her that thanks, it was a nice idea, but that I couldn't afford both the donation $300 that got us Inner Circle seating and the $1,000+ tickets for two.

It is the end of an era.