Where Has Sarah Brightman Gone?

Seriously? Where the hell is she?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not asking as a fan. I'm not saying "The world needs more Sarah Brightman so, DAMN IT! I want to see her represented more in mainstream pop culture!"

I'm also not asking where she's gone on her travels as of late.

And I'm not asking where she's gone spiritually.

No, I'm asking where pie-faced, mooney eyed, matronly little chunk of a Brit, Sarah Brightman has gone. This Sheryl Crowbot in her place that writhes in come-hither fashion and even manages to sex up the Ave Maria is NOT the Sarah Brightman I've known and (not) loved for the past 20 years.

See for yourself.

Sarah Brightman before:

Sarah Brightman after:

The only thing even slightly similar is that this is a chick who gets in front of the camera and always plays to her best side.

Photographer: Can we get a full-on shot of your face, Ms. Brightman?

Sarah: No! No you may not! It's a two-quarter turn to the right or it's nothing! Now get to clicking!

You know, it could just be that all this was documented diligently in the media, with as much furor as the incredible shrinking Star Jones story was a few years ago. Could be. I doubt it ... but still, it's a possibility. But I wouldn't know because I pretty much can't stand Sarah Brightman and wouldn't particularly gravitate toward any article written about her, scandalous or otherwise. I mean ... we've got a Britney Pandemic going on ... those oops-I-did-it-again antics of hers don't leave room in the shallow part of my brain for much else.

Sarah Brightman can't take all the credit for why I don't like her. It didn't start with her. It started with her warty little hobgoblin of a (now ex-) husband, Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber. I am not an Andrew Lloyd Webber fan. That's not to say Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat doesn't have it's moments ... and my Evita obsession roiled large, but that was a Madonna thing. I like to think that I like some of his music despite Andrew Lloyd Webber, not because of him.

A number of years ago I found out that Music of the Night was actually written as a stand alone piece and dropped into Phantom later -- written by Webber expressly for Brightman on the night they met. Imagining trollish little Andy cooing this pleading melody to Sarah as he tried to entice her into his lonely little midget bed left me feeling disgusting and rather voyeuristic. No matter who's crooning the lyrics, all I can envision is that creepy scene playing out in my head ...Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight - the darkness of the music of the night . . . this odd little man with his odd little euphemism for sex. Floating, falling, sweet intoxication! Touch me, trust me savor each sensation! This kind of stuff is the exact OPPOSITE of an erotic siren song. And still, it must have done the trick cuz the broad not only touched him, trusted him, and savored each sensation ... she married him. With a shovel in her hand in place of a bouquet, the quicker to start the gold diggin' with.

So anyway, all this made it very hard for me to like Sarah Brightman, or to even care enough to follow her career. The next time I even noticed her was when she was inappropriately pawing her way through Time to Say Goodbye.

Yes, I get it. Andrea Bocelli is blind. He can't see you staring at him adoringly. So you've gotta drape your damn self across him like a drunken hooker. You know darn well that Andrea's thinking the whole time of extending the title to "Time to Say Goodbye, So Get Off of My Stage and Don't Call Me Because I've Changed My Phone Number. And You Can Just Forget About Coming With Me to Zurich on the 31st".

Oh, and just a little critical advice, if I may? If you're gonna sing a song in Italian, please get a dialect coach so I don't have to hear a romance language butchered by your stilted British affectation.

Any whoo, just wondering where Sarah Brightman's gone, and who's taken over her Kathy Griffin-esque celebrity status. So, if anyone's got any dirt on Ms. Brightman vis-à-vis plastic surgery, abduction, or a soul sold to the Devil, please let me know. It's been a slow-ish Britney week ...

One Two Tree Fo' ... This Is Rock and Roll!

Paved With Good Intentions -or- Quibbit Takes Luvvie Home For The Holidays

Planning to Travel to Michigan The Day After Christmas (In Theory):

• Quibbit starts looking up flights on Expedia in early November
• Quibbit books late afternoon non-stop direct flight for 2 from LaGuardia to Grand Rapids
• On day of flight Quibbit and Luvvie leisurely pack and call cab in plenty of time to make 6:00pm flight
• Quibbit and Luvvie go to airport, board plane, arrive in Grand Rapids 3 hours later, commence celebrating with Quibbit's family for Second Christmas

Traveling to Michigan The Day After Christmas (Reality):

• Spend Christmas day without Quibbit because he's come down with a 24 hour stomach virus
• Have Quibbit oversleep on December 26th well past the time he is supposed to be at apartment to pack
• ... the same day his cell phone experiences a glitch and doesn't work
• Frantically dial Quibbit for 2 hours hoping he didn't get sicker from 24 hour stomach virus and is laying helpless on the floor of his apartment
• Eventually dial Mom and ask her to investigate
• Pace maniacally, dialing Mom's cell every 10 minutes
• Listen as Mom speaks with roommate who confirms Quibbit is not laying dead on the floor
• Feel relief as Quibbit comes bounding through door of apartment armed with things to pack and stories of oversleeping and ill-timed, non-working phone

• Pack clothes and presents with less time than planned, forgetting essential items like Doc Marten boots
• Leave for airport in plenty of time
• Get to LaGuardia and find out direct Northwest Airlines flight to Grand Rapids has been cancelled
• Knit brow quizzically as ticket agent explains he's booked you both on a Delta flight to Cincinnati with connecting flight to Grand Rapids
• Hustle like hell when told that new flight leaves 45 minutes earlier
• Check all luggage -- so as not to be weighed down by carry-on bags

• Get stopped at security check point and get told you've been put on the Alarm List
• Go through a detailed security check while other people look at you and wonder if you're a terrorist
• Try not to look suspicious as you get patted down
• Get to gate just as flight is boarding
• Get to Cincinnati and make connecting flight easily, with enough time to sit in restaurant and have dinner
• Get to gate, board tiny plane, and take out current issue of Vanity Fair
• Finish up article about Angie Dickinson
• Proceed to read story about a glamorous New York Couple who become paranoid and convinced that the Scientologists are out to get them and subsequently commit suicide
• Show article to Quibbit and explain how the couple are very much like the Glamorous New York Couple Quibbit and Luvvie except for the paranoia and the suicide
• Laugh when stewardess gets on PA and tells full plane that the flight is delayed because "we can't find the pilot"
• Laugh again when, 1/2 hour later, same stewardess gets on PA and repeats first announcement
• Knit brow quizzically 1 hour later as same stewardess admits passengers must de-plane until replacement pilot is found
• Do STAR Magazine crossword puzzle with Quibbit to pass time at Gate 67 waiting for more information
• Watch as departure time is moved from 9:40pm to 10:20pm to 11:00pm to 11:40pm
• Find out at 11:15pm that flight has been cancelled due to "lack of staffing"
• Wiggle impatiently as Quibbit joins line to find out what's to become of we intrepid travelers
• Exclaim excitedly when told that passengers are being put up in local area hotels (Whee! An adventure!)
• Take shuttle to Hilton Hotel and use up 7 dollar "dinner" voucher on Sugar Corn Pops, cranberry juice and yogurt
• Remark to Quibbit that this is like your own personal version of The Amazing Race
• Watch I love New York 2 while brushing teeth with flimsy hotel toothbrush
• Sleep less than 5 hours and awake groggy
• Attempt to make in-room coffee with ice chips instead of water (see "awake groggy")
• Realize this is a fast and effective way to break in-room coffee maker
• Skip coffee and hope cost of coffee maker doesn't get charged back to you
• Arrive at airport bright and early, excited to get to Grand Rapids!
• Knit brow quizzically as ticket agent explains that yes, you've got a boarding pass and yes, you've got a seat assignment, and yes, everything LOOKS in order but no --- you are not actually booked on the flight
• Purse lips and glower as ticket agent explains that you can fly into Detroit instead and then take ground transportation -- a 3 hour drive -- to Grand Rapids
• Shake head "NO" several times throughout entire exchange but let Quibbit do the talking so as not to let your Brooklyn show
• Wait as ticket agent explains that you could also fly into South Bend, Indiana and get ground transportation to Grand Rapids -- only a 1.5 hour drive
• Marvel as Quibbit, who has flown only 5 times in his life, is level headed enough to express the need to be compensated with a free flight voucher for all of our trouble
• Give Quibbit a huge hug for being so cute
• Get ticketed for the South Bend flight which leaves in half an hour
• Run for gate to make plane
• Get flagged again and put on Alarm List when going through security
• Find no comfort in the fact that this time the Alarm List line contains a family with 3 young girls from 8 to 12 who all have to go through the same scrutiny
• Watch as guard goes through purse and takes an unusually long time flipping the pages of BITCH Magazine in an effort to extract whatever contraband must be contained within the pages of such a subversive periodical
• Ignore raised eyebrow of guard and try to appear innocent till process is finished
• Put shoes and belt back on while racing to gate
• Get on short flight to South Bend which is anti-climactic in it's uneventfulness
• De-plane
• Knit brow quizzically as ticket agent in South Bend explains that your luggage is en route to Grand Rapids without you
• Get in a stinky van that smells like cigarettes and settle in for a long drive to Grand Rapids with a driver who "thinks" she knows the way there
• Arrive at the Grand Rapids airport 2 hours later
• Knit brow quizzically as ticket agent explains that your luggage is sitting in the South Bend airport despite what they told you in Indiana
• Give Best Western address to ticket agent for when luggage DOES arrive
• Check into Best Western and ask for flimsy hotel toothbrush in case luggage doesn't make it
• Get luggage six hours later
• Start vacation 24 hours after departing LaGuardia

Of course, once the vacation got officially underway it was filled with Second Christmas joy --


Little boys rolling around on the floor amid wrapping paper, dressed in their new presents, while playing with other presents ...

Loads of pictures being taken as each gift is given, opened, and exclaimed over ...

Snowstorms and freezing walks to the nearest coffee house to load up on espresso drinks ...

Church service in a parish so small that Quibbit and I get a shout out from the pulpit ...

Long drives to sisters and back again ...

Discovering what a Ponderosa is ...

And the bittersweet moment that you hug everyone good bye and get back on that facakta plane ...




Giving your street in Brooklyn to the LaGuardia cab driver sans directions, safe in the knowledge that OF COURSE the driver knows your block ...

Getting a baloney sandwich from the 24 hour bagel place around the corner at 11:00pm, and then huddling close to your Boo on the Promenade waiting for midnight ...

Counting down to 2008 with other intrepid Brooklynites while watching the fireworks across the river ...

Walking home and watching Netflix till dawn ...


It's good to be back home.

Merry Christmas

Swing Your Razor Wide, Sweeney

I was half-convinced I'd waken.
Satisfied enough to dream you,
happily I was mistaken ....
-- "Johanna" / Sweeney Todd

In Dueling Evitas I touched very briefly on a night that I went to see Sweeney Todd done live and in concert where the whole magical evening was dampened a bit by La LuPone's incessant braying. What I didn't go into was how my obsession with Sweeney Todd (in every form imaginable) has been going on for close to 25 years now ... trumped only by my obsession with the wondrous Stephen Sondheim himself which started when I was barely 13.

I can still remember that moment that froze me, made me stand still in the middle of that black and white checkered floor in my parent's basement, where I'd lip-synced my way through the Rogers and Hammerstein canon. I'd just gotten the album "Hooked on Broadway" (Part of the successful "Hooked On ..." series) and was listening to it for the first time. There was a Sondheim/Gershwin tribute and I was a Gershwin fan ever since I heard Rhapsody in Blue so was paying particular attention. Who this Sondheim fella was, I hadn't a clue. Oh, but I was about to find out ... and nothing would ever be the same again.

In the middle of the medley, a phrase rang out - two notes, really, but two notes in the middle of a phrase that was already so lush - and I just couldn't believe that music could sound like that, that this unexpected note could pop up and suddenly give the whole phrase an undertone of darkness. That something so heavy with beauty could turn ugly in just two notes and then rebound to the glorious fullness from where it came -- this was a concept that was astonishing to me. I had come from the old school world of musical theatre; dissonance had never played a part in any of my favorites before. The liner notes of the album told me that the two notes were from the song "Johanna" ... the musical was Sweeney Todd. The phrase was the one I quoted above.

Once I found out about Sondheim, I couldn't stop. I collected everything I could lay my hands on.

Company, Sweeney Todd, A Little Night Music, Follies, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, Merrily We Roll Along, Anyone Can Whistle … like someone who can tell Coke from Pepsi blindfolded and in one sip, I could spot a Sondheim internal rhyme with both hands tied behind my back by the time I was 14. I became a purist and a completist … I own records of works of his that never were produced, retrospectives, tributes. I could name that tune in 2 notes.

I even gave up my starry-eyed notion of love so instilled in me by Rogers and Hammerstein for the more jaded (realistic) attitude of Sondheim. And years later, when I took pen to paper to write the Great American Novel, it was a tragedy only partially less grim than Sweeney Todd. Tragic death, mistaken guilt, a lifetime of revenge, pawns who suffer needlessly and never understand why; yes, it was all there.

I was in high school when PBS started airing the live version starring George Hearn and Angela Lansbury and I became so obsessed that it made all my previous obsessions look like casual dabblings. I taped it off the TV and raced home from school every day to watch it and memorize it so that, when called upon, I could play Mrs. Lovitt at a moment's notice. When I wasn't watching it, I was singing it over and over again to myself. When I wasn't singing it, I was dragging friends over to my house to watch it. When I wasn't dragging friends over to watch it, I was listening to the album, making mental notes of who was the better Sweeney. (Album = Len Cariou, PBS = George Hearn. George won, hands down.) I taught Sweeney Todd 101 to anyone who ventured over our doorstep, devoting an entire evening to the

differences between each actor's interpretation of "at last my arm is complete again!"

Eventually I weaned myself from Sweeney since I really had to ... it was wean or be a complete social outcast. Still, he was never far from my heart.

Fast forward to present day, and see me and Quibbit last night at the City Cinemas Village East Theatre, packed in like sardines and holding our breath as the new Sweeney Todd flickered on the screen before us.

Sweeney Todd, the movie, could have gone horribly wrong in so many ways. But it didn't. No, every breathtaking moment of Sweeney Todd was done so remarkably right that it did the impossible -- it eclipsed the PBS version I had held as the Holy Grail for over half my life.

Of course I'd heard the buzz long before I'd seen even one preview -- and I couldn't quite tell if I was ready to embrace it or dismiss it. Although, from the onset it was genius. Who but Tim Burton could direct this Gothic tale of madness, revenge and obsession? And, while I'd never before thought of Johnny Depp as Sweeney Todd, when Sweeney raises his razor and speaks "at last ... my arm is complete again" ... it was like Edward Scissorhands embracing his shining silver blades in a moment that had come full circle.

Cinematography was dark, brooding, spectacular, perfect.
Music was perfectly chosen, artfully executed, breathtaking, shockingly layered.
Casting was brilliant. Aside from Johnny Depp's ability to play absolutely anything and anyone, there was Alan Rickman oozing out of Judge Turpin's skin with all the evil of Severus Snape coupled with a perversion that no Harry Potter film would ever allow him to expose.
And Sacha Baron Cohen seemed a bit of stunt casting until he actually delivered the goods and (I'm sure, if Friday's audience was any indication) brought in a whole slew of Borat fans who hadn't really heard of Sondheim or cared about this musical enough to see it otherwise.

Helena Bonham-Carter is, of course, sleeping with the director (and spittin' out progeny pretty regularly) but she does have that thing going on that makes her

a pretty good Mrs. Lovitt in the "I'm a bit daft myself and therefore have no problem being in love with a mad man who bears no resemblance to the Benjamin Barker I loved 15 years ago" way. I do love the was she can pull off those corpse-bride eye circles. And I will say that she brought something totally unexpected and therefore enjoyable to the role. So, reedy voice and all, she gets my thumbs up. Of course, having been preparing for the role since 16 I was a little disturbed that "The Worst Pies In London" wasn't a half step faster (the way it was meant to be done) since one of my most enviable talents is being able to sing every word of Sondheim's lyrics as quickly as he wrote them to be sung. My "Not Getting Married Today" from Company blurs right past you. Anyway, it all was fine in the end.
Favorite unexpected joy: "By the Sea" which I didn't see coming and which left me with a wide smile and tears of joy and a heart that beat a mile a minute.
Oh, and that little boy who played Toby was outstanding.

Every single thing about this movie is flawless and the only complaint that I have is that it came out so close to Christmas -- so I won't be able to get back to the theater as soon as I'd like for a second, third, forth and possibly fifth viewing. Then, of course, it's the first thing I plan to play on the wide screen TV which I will have bought for the express purpose of viewing this magnificent movie over and over again. Oh, Quibbit, hang on tight --- It's going to be a very Sweeney few years.

It's a Small, Small World

I've been in love with Disney World since I was a little 6 year old in a mini-skirt and earth shoes, posing with Mickey in front of the chocolate-covered Frozen Banana stand. I loved Disney World when all there was was a Magic Kingdom with a Howard Johnson's nearby. I loved Disney World when "having breakfast with a character" meant going to the all you can eat buffet and having a gum-chewing 60 year old waitress with a bee-hive call you Sugar Pie as she re-filled your amber colored plastic juice glass with chocolate milk. I loved Disney World back when an E-Ticket had nothing to do with the electronic ticket that spits out at you from the Delta kiosk at JFK after you insert you credit card at least 3 times before getting it in facing the right way.

Some time in the 1970s I went to Disney for the first time with my Dad and he did all the dad-on-vacation-alone-with-no-mom-there things that dads do … like putting my hair in 2 pony tails that verged on child abuse (too tight, uneven, hair all knotty). To make up for it he bought me anything that had Minnie Mouse on it – feeding an addiction I'd had no inkling of before setting foot in Orlando, but an addiction I couldn't shake and one I fell prey to every time we passed a gift shop.

We went back the following year with my Mom. For me it meant better hair this time, but less presents as my mom (or "bad cop") put her foot down against "all that nonsense". And rightly so, because once I had gotten home from my trip with dad, all my Minnie items promptly were lost, discarded, broken or traded away.

Then there was this long lull that involved no trips to Disney. When friends of mine went and came back with gushing tales of Epcot I looked at them quizzically. Ep-what? Did it sell Frozen Bananas too?

And so the years dragged on, Disney-less, until some time when I was in my mid 20s and my childhood friend, M (first half of M+M) invited me to join her family for a few days in the parks. In SUMMER ... So my first foray back to Disney brought with it lines that funneled through every available crowd-management tool invented. A good line meant only a 1 hour wait. ("Let's get on this one while it's still short!") Even FastPass (though a good idea in theory) becomes nothing but a funny little notion during those kid-chocked months. Still, I loved every minute of it and couldn't wait to go back. At a different time of year of course ... and with my Boo.

Quibbit and I decided to go in mid-December which is a bad time to leave, but a great time to go. Okay, so it meant writing the Christmas cards in November, but it was worth it.

We Stayed At Disney's Caribbean Beach Resort
I'm not a beach person. You'll never find me spending money on a Caribbean vacation. So, there's only one explanation as to why I decided to stay at the Caribbean Beach Resort: the other mid-priced resorts were full. But surprise surprise -- turns out Quibbit and I really did enjoy the benefits of the beach; we spent two or three nights rocking in the hammock there after a long day in the park, looking up at the stars through the palm tree fronds and enjoying the sound of the fireworks exploding over Epcot.

We Saw Fireworks Every Night
I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy, do or die. I was born on the 3rd of July (aka Independence Day Eve) so I've been imprinted strongly with a love of fireworks. If someone's shooting them off, I'm watching them.

It Was Quibbit's First Time
This meant I got to be tour guide, but also got to be shown a few things myself. I wanted this to be a great vacation for him, so we focused on whatever he wanted to do.

:: Disney-MGM Studios ::
The Disney MGM park is a nice way to start your vacation; really manageable and nicely walkable, which is why it made sense to start there the afternoon we arrived. Nothing like being in a theme park just 4 hours after leaving JFK!

Half-a-Star
The Great Movie Ride
The outside looks like Grauman's Chinese Theatre, and the inside has great costumes from movies (like the fur coats from the Chronicles of Narnia), and even the wait is fun, as you watch scenes from old movies play out in front of you on a huge screen. But after that the slow pace of the ride, the guide's incessant (scripted) chatter which often is spoken over the animatrons' dialogue, and the lack of anything new makes it a big yawn.

Always Fun
Star Tours
Muppet Vision 3-D
Tower of Terror
I get scared just in the lobby! The idea of plunging down the elevator shaft is terrifying and thrilling and gets to me the minute I see that dusty tableau at the entrance of the tower. I'm usually halfway chickened out by the time I get to the "boiler room" but then I look around and see a bunch of 12 year olds. 'nuff said.

First Time On
Rock 'n' Rollercoaster Oh MAN! What the hell! Whoooo! I'd never had the courage to go on it before, but this time I figured if I was going to die at least Quibbit would be by my side. I am NOT kidding when I tell you that after the 2 minute ride (or less?) our insides were so shocked that we hobbled like senior citizens to the nearest bench and then used the excuse that "we need protein" to get a smoked turkey leg.

Favorite Thing About MGM This Trip

The Osborne Family Christmas Lights Display
While I admit it's a little surreal to travel from an ACTUAL NYC street that is ACTUALLY cold all the way to an MGM façade of a NYC street in Florida that just "looks like" NYC and is sprinkled with fake snow that shimmers down on you Edward Scissorhands style, there's a bit of magic in the whole thing. When that switch was flipped and those billions of lights came on, there was nothing more beautiful to me.

:: Epcot ::

When you see the original plans for Epcot it's sad to see how far it got away from it's original concept. I would have loved to see the bullet train ride that was slated for Japan, or the other countries that never made it to the world showcase. Still, Epcot as it is now is a great deal of fun and for Quibbit, who is all brainy and stuff, it was a good place to soak in a lot of information in one day.

Half-a-Star
The Seas w. Nemo and Friends

Last time I was at Disney World this ride was just called The Seas and had a whole different feel to it. Not so ... um ... Nemo-ish? The movie was heartwarming and great ... but I liked the old ride better. Is it possible to resent the Disneyfying of Disney? More on that later ...

Also – Spaceship Earth was closed which sucks since you're taunted from all over the park by that huge geodesic dome.

Always Fun
Ellen's Energy Adventure
Test Track

First Time On
Mission Space (We took the option of being on the "Green Team" – the milder version of the ride - since Quibbit was getting a little green himself!)

Favorite Thing About Epcot This Trip / Future World

Soarin'

Favorite Epcot Country - Germany

Their beer garden is so authentic -- it's the next best thing to being in Germany during Oktoberfest. Plus, it's really nice to drink beer in the middle of the day.

Bavaria's in my blood, and when you can't get all the way to Muenchen, this will work just fine.

:: Magic Kingdom ::

Magic Kingdom ... the park that started it all. Like a whole little world unto itself. I always save it for the 2nd or 3rd day, because I'm too excited to see it the first day -- I need to ease into Disney Mode before walking down Main Street. But once I'm there ...

Half-a-Star
Stitch's Great Escape!
If you came looking for the old ride that was ridiculously scary (not simply ridiculous) then it's a little disappointing to see it replaced with this ride. If I wanted to see Stitch bounce mischievously around a room, burping chili hot dogs, I'd get up early on a Saturday morning and watch the Disney Channel. It was Nemo all over again.

Always Fun
Big Thunder Mountain
Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin (one of Quibbit's favorites)
The Haunted Mansion

Pirates of the Caribbean
Space Mountain

First Time On
Jungle Cruise

Hall of Presidents

Mickey's PhilharMagic
Snow Whites Scary Adventures
Splash Mountain - yes hard to believe I'd never been before ... but the lines were always too long.

Favorite Thing About Magic Kingdom This Trip
Being there with Quibbit. Magic Kingdom is one of those leave-your-grown-up- self-at-the-door kinda places ... more than any other place in WDW. And Quibbit is the most open, uninhibited, unguarded person I've ever known. He is completely joyful and was 100% immersed in everything we did, even "WWWOOOO!!!!"-ing on the Winnie the Pooh ride. He is a total treasure, and seeing the most Magical Place on Earth through his eyes was the most freeing experience I've had. Plus, you know, I just love the guy.

:: Animal Kingdom ::

Some time last summer Quibbit and I had taken a day and gone to the Bronx Zoo. Seeing how much he enjoyed all the animals made me know that Animal Kingdom would probably be a great place to be with him. It was as great way to end our vacation so we spent a nice leisurely last day there.

Half-a-Star

Rafiki's Planet Watch is, I'm sure, a whole boatload of fun if you're 3 years old or a tired family who's looking to get away from the crowds, or ... I don't know. I don't know what would make this place fun. To me, it's just some crowd control tool, which probably works well enough. But if this hadn't been Quibbit's first time, and if I hadn't made a deal that I'd see all the things he asked about, then this would have been one I'd have skipped.

Always Fun

It's Tough To Be A Bug

Kilimanjaro Safaris

Dinosaur
Primeval Whirl

First Time On

Kali River Rapids

Expedition Everest




Favorite Thing About Animal Kingdom This Trip
Going on all the new thrill rides were amazing; and hands down my most favorite memory of Animal Kingdom was seeing the photos that get taken automatically (and are for sale) after Everest and Dinosaur -- the look of sheer terror on Quibbit's face had me laughing for days every time I recalled it.

Wrap Up
I've said for years that when you're an adult and you don't have a child, your inner child becomes your child. And I could think of no better way to herald in the Christmas season than to take little Luvviepuffaroo and little Quibbit to the place where dreams come true. Cue music ...

Put in Context

The other night I went to go hear Ross Robertson (editor for What Is Enlightenment? magazine) give a talk at the EnlightenNext Center about his article in the latest issue entitled: A Brighter Shade of Green: Rebooting Environmentalism for the Twenty-First Century. It was a good talk about the old guard environmentalists versus the new.

In his presentation, Ross talked a lot about Buckminster Fuller which made me think back to the Summer of Somehow …

Two and a half years ago I did the Luvviepuffaroo Re-Invention Tour (having successfully completed the Luvviepuffaroo Who's That Girl Tour but yet to conceive of the Luvviepuffaroo Confessions Tour). The Re-Invention Tour involved quitting my job and thumbing my nose at a career that I had stumbled into backwards which then grew faster than Audrey II, sucking up pretty much the same amount of blood. It was an ill conceived career in ... Finance. (insert vile retching sound here).

In a procedure that was much like a no-fault divorce (they called it a "Mutual Agreement Package") my management team, my Human Resources department and I all sat down and discussed terms, shook hands, and decided that after seven years we'd gotten all we could out of the partnership. "You go your way, we'll go ours, sign here". I signed. How easy it all was -- something I though could never be done.

I definitely lost a lot … stability, routine, my whole infrastructure of friends, a steady income, a feeling of security, a reason to shower in the morning. Having once laughed from behind my desk as I watched Odd Todd animations, I now envied how Todd at least was able to fit a walk into his grand daily plan. For the first 5 months, as I lived off my severance package (sorry ... Mutual Agreement Package) I never got much beyond getting out of bed and sitting on the couch.

And some of the things I gained weren't that useful: panic attacks, crazy mad computer game skills, a talent for reciting the entire TV lineup starting from the moment I tossed and turned and finally vaulted out of bed at 10:00 or 10:30 a.m. (The Maury Show -- Tyrell, you ARE the father!) all the way to Fear Factor at 2:00 a.m. Yes, I said Fear Factor. I can't even explain that one.

Though, in solidarity, I did cultivate a pretty large addiction to Starting Over (and ... I'll admit it ... Starting Over message boards).

However, I had two things going for me
1) a real desire to change my life and
2) Ookanuba, my love-her-like-a-sister-never-knew-a-day-without-her-in-
my-life friend who, despite being vastly different from me, was always eerily similar to me too.

I often said that Ookanuba and I had a relationship that was like the earth. On the outside shallow layer, The Crust, we had a lot of similarities. (Love for the Simpsons, Love/Hate for Madonna, passion for writing, quirky sense of humor, that born-in-Brooklyn toughness, an affinity for dropping the F-Bomb into casual conversation). The kind of thing that, if we met today at a party and had a conversation, would leave us saying, "Hey, that was one cool chick!"

Then, there was this whole layer, The Mantle, that didn't match up at all. Ookanuba can spend a week at Burning Man sleeping in the desert, decorating her boobs with a hand-sewn bra and peeing in a porta potty. Me ... not so much. I marked my first anniversary with Quibbit at The Four Seasons dressed in an impeccable black and white ensemble in matching 4 inch heels. Her ... not so much. Not saying I can't go without make up and she can't look exquisite. We can (and often do). We just gravitate more towards our own polarities. Basically it all falls under lifestyle choices. It's the stuff a lot of other people can't get past, especially in a new friendship. That whole layer contains all the deal-breakers for some. But I guess knowing someone your whole life makes you search deeper than these choices, till you get down to the core.

And it is down there, in our Core, where Ookanuba and I match up again. Because in the center of who we are we are exactly alike. Inquisitive. Always striving to find out WHY. Making sure we give ourselves (and each other) the bad news so that we can grow stronger and better. We create together. We bounce things off each other. We're each other's reality check. We're each other's best critic and loudest cheerleader.

So, while it's an amazing coincidence that Ookanuba was taking stock of her life that year at just the same time and had come to the same conclusion as me … it wasn't shocking. Just like the time we hadn't spoken for months and found that both of us were watching Madonna's Truth or Dare over and over and over again. That's just how we are. And so, it made sense that together we would create the Summer of Somehow.

The concept was simple: Empty your life completely. Then layer back in the things that are important to you. In between, allow for anything to happen, and believe that it all will work out – somehow.

This concept was based in part on a quote Ookanuba read to me from a Buckminster Fuller book -- where he explained that he found that when he gave fully of himself to others and found himself depleted and in most need of something, then … somehow … the thing he needed most came from the spot he least expected. An extraordinary and divine gift.

The Summer of Somehow yielded a lot … by Fall I was not only dating but completely in love with my Boo, Quibbit, who had literally (okay, figuratively) dropped out of the sky from the most unlikeliest of places. I'll write that story another time, because I want to do it justice and if I'm going to commit it to a spot for posterity it better be perfect. But even more amazing than finding this exquisite and perfect love, was to find this human being who understood what the Summer of Somehow, and the whole dang shebang that came after, really was all about. Someone who, in fact, had been practicing it in much the same way on his own long before he met me.

The Summer of Somehow didn't cure all, however, and lead quickly into what I called The Winter of "What now?" There were a lot of lulls, a lot of false starts and a lot of questioning why I wasn't just giving in. In all, the Summer of Somehow lasted 17 months ... and that's one heck of a summer.

So here's where everything dove tails …
Watching the Brighter Shade of Green presentation the other night I thought of that Buckminster Fuller quote (which I can't seem to find now), and I looked at the Fuller quote Ross Robinson had projected in front of me on the screen from I Seem to be a Verb, and I thought about all the passages in people's writing that gets quoted … and how all the words surrounding the brilliant quotes go unattributed, and yet they provide the context.

And I thought about the Winter of What Now, when nothing much was happening, but how, when I look back, it provided context for why my life is so great right now. The highs aren't high without the lows, eh?

And then I looked at my life right now (and by "right now" I mean this very month) which is filled with certain difficult situations that I don't want to list here, and these difficult situations are triggering entire paradigm shifts, Luvvie-digm shifts really, and how these difficult situations are overwhelming me, keeping me in a holding pattern, a mental dog paddle.

And how these things have been keeping me from creating and contributing, and how I can't write blog entries because of it, and then, in a flash, it just all made sense that right now I'm living the context, I'm living the pause. The ellipse. And soon enough (because there's always a "soon enough") there will be a shake up for better or for worse, but as mundane as all these "right now" days seem to be, there's no denying they're filling in the paragraphs between the quotes that I'll lift later and refer to. And that, my dear, is just as important.

Side by Side by Luvviepuffaroo ... Episode 1

I never understood those who justify their whole poo-poohing of American Musical theatre with the tired cliché that "no one in real life ever spontaneously bursts into song". I've never heard anyone dismissing the ballet using the argument that "no one in real life ever spontaneously bursts into a grand jeté". Yet do they? I've never seen it. Come to think of it, no one in real life ever spontaneously swings on a web through the city or holds up a taxi with one finger or has 12 inch spikes spring out from their knuckles either, eh? Right little boy? So come on ... quit with the Musical bashing already. If there were no Stephen Sondheim there would be no Luvviepuffaroo because he literally soundtracked my life.

Git'cher self on over to my house on any weekend and you'll find me singing about washing the dishes or painting a wall or just walking down the stairs (with Quibbit joining in merrily, and at full voice). We've got a song for everything. Songs are fun.

Basically, I'm a big fan of any movie that sticks a musical interlude into the normal course of a conversation. This is why I've always been completely tickled by this scene from Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy.




However, in the tradition of "animate it and make it funnier" (well, I exclude A Scanner Darkly in this tradition) Steve Falzone brings it to a whole new level with this masterpiece:


By the time Legos get involved, it's sheer brilliance:


If this kinda spontaneous burst of song happened around my workplace I'd be so happy I'd probably do a grand jeté.