Thursday, March 1, 2012

Notes from the Road V. 3

Day something with the Love, Loss and What I Wore tour.  All I know is we have 3 days left.  I started writing this entry back in Ft. Lauderdale, but halfway through I hit an errant key and the entry disappeared into the great black hole in cyber space.  Add this disaster to the fact that we had been playing for nearly a week to audiences whose age averaged 853 and who didn't seem to think the announcement to kindly turn their cell phones off, refrain from texting during the show and not record the show simply didn't apply to them.  For octogenarians, these folks sure knew their way around cell phone technology.  Utterly defeated and despondent, I gave up, weeping silently into my pillow, drinking turned wine straight from the bottle.  It was a dark time, folks.

In Ft. Lauderdale, I did have the immense pleasure of seeing my good buddies Eric Anderson and Liz Larson who were in town doing a new musical.  We shared a theater, but, while both casts were housed at Sheraton hotels, theirs was right on the beach while ours was more like Sheraton's younger, slower brother, Sherman.  This was the view from Liz's hotel room:

And this was their pool:

Note how it butts up right onto the beach.

I didn't bother taking pictures of my view or the pool at the Sherman hotel.  Instead, here's a picture I took of something on the lobby floor:

The only other notable thing that happened in Ft. Lauderdale is that I was contacted by the parents of the boy I "dated" at summer camp when I was 12.  They saw the show and took me out to dinner.  It was kind of awesome.

This is a sculpture outside the theater in Ft. Lauderdale:
No clue.

Thankfully we were given a one week respite from our transient, suitcase lifestyles and we all got to go home to our respective families, pets and/or personal assistants.   Please don't get me wrong, I have been very happy to be a part of this tour.  The ladies I'm working with are a hoot and it's been an experience I had been hoping to have for a while.  But, Florida was a challenge and I knew that I was facing 4 weeks in Detroit.  In February.  In Detroit.  February in Detroit.

I spent the bulk of my vacation week firmly planted on my couch, getting up only to pee or refill my wine glass.  My boyfriend had to be satisfied with my monosyllabic grunts for conversation as that was about all I could muster.  I did see some friends, ate good food and hosted a brunch on Super Bowl Sunday at Lola's where I made that bottomless mimosa my bitch.

Which brings us to Detroit.  In February.  When I first got to my room and saw this:
A gorgeous sunset overlooking some river and Canada.  Canada, which is, by the way, south of Detroit.  I was like, "Word".  I pictured myself rolling in late nights, with some dude (or lady) from the lobby bar on my arm.  You know, big pimpin' style.  But 5 minutes and about 500 elevator dings right outside my room later, I realized if I stayed in that room I would eventually manage to jump into that beautiful river.  So, I moved rooms.  So here's the view from the room I ended up in:
And here was the view most mornings:
Just in case you're unclear as to what that is, it's FOG.

Now, look, I'm not going to rag on Detroit.  I know people who live here.  I can't explain exactly WHY they would want to live here.  Nonetheless, they do.  But I will say this:  Detroit is the sweaty man taint of this country.  And that's all.  Except for this:  Detroit?  Really?  Seriously?  What the FUCK, man?  Jesus Christ.     This place looks exactly like every city in every post-apocalyptic movie.  In Charlotte, NC, they tore down everything.  EVERYTHING.  They apparently didn't give a good God damned about their history and tore down every building, in only SOME cases replacing them with a plaque explaining what had been there before it was torn down.  In Detroit, everything still stands.  EVERYTHING.  Building upon building that was abandoned God knows when.  Caved-in roofs, empty and falling apart.  For miles and miles there is nothing but economic depression and devastation.  Here's a picture of the Subway sandwich shop I visited here:
Yep, that's bullet proof glass.

MEANWHILE, the GOP is prancing around saying contraception and abortion shouldn't be legal.  Cities like Detroit and Flint exist IN THIS COUNTRY and Romney and Santorum are running around yanking their dicks about non-procreational sex.  I just don't fucking get it.  The CRAZIEST thing about this is that these dudes are pandering to an increasingly tiny portion of the population.  Ask a guy on the street in Detroit if he thinks contraception should be made illegal and he'll say, "Look around, motherfucker!"  As will just about everyone except the members of the West Baptist Church.

But I digress.  Here is what Sally basically thinks of Detroit:
She's like, "Seriously?"  Thank the baby Jesus I brought her with me.  She is just about the only thing that has kept me sane.

One last thought:  Is it just me or is everything on TV now shows about yokels with no teeth wrestling cockroaches, alligators and catfish?