Frenchy Stuff, Bill Nighy, Bill Nighy, Bummer, and Bill (yes, Nighy) in Fantasy/Bummer

Friday in the big city.

Yes, curious readers, there is now tile on the bathroom walls.  No, no grout, so it's not done, but it looks purdy.  Further HGTV moments around the corner.

The day started with brunch.  In one of an amazing number of coincidences, there is a French bakery right across the street.  We ate there.  French bakery, remember.  It comes in handy momentarily.

So, we are about to leave from 52nd St to the World Trade Center Memorial and we discussed how to get there.

M: I never take the subway here, I only walk or take taxis.
S: I knew you were petty bourgeios.
M: And not afraid to admit it.
Pause
S: I don't do that Frenchy stuff.
Pause
K: Shhhhh...we are in a French restaurant.
S:  [sheepish over his Croque Madame]

Then S gets up to go to the bathroom and stops near the door saying "Oh, shit."

Sitting there, reading a Penguin Classic (the iconic black spine on the paperback was unmissable) was...yes, Bill Nighy.  No, not the science guy.  Yes, Davy Jones in Pirates in the Caribbean.  [note, he doesn't actually have the tentacles]

I stopped, said "hi," he said hi, I held out my hand and we shook and I said, "We're coming to see you tonight."  He said, "I hope you enjoy it." And I said, in my best Sheldon imitation, "I'm sure we will.  We love science."

Then, on the way out, we all said hi and he stood up and shook our hands & I admitted we had just seen his new movie, and he said something nice, and I said something about he seemed to be doing all right.  They drug me out at that point.

Of course I did Bill Nighy imitations (I think I'm in my own version of the *The Trip* & *The Trip to Italy*), which Michael kept telling me I didn't have down...I guess the hand gestures and the...the...hesitation...weren't enough.

We then spent the afternoon at the World Trade Center Memorial.  It's painful.  And a lot of stuff.  I mean, literally, they have pieces of paper from the buildings.  But the video...well, watching the plane hitting the buildings, again, and the people jumping, again, is rough.

Then to dinner.

We had Italian.  I had group approval before making the reservation, so don't judge me.  Many readers may have been here, across from Carnegie Hall (we got there by taxi...taxi...)

I tried to lure M into a bet on who would get there first.  They were coming from Battery Park, but started 20 minutes ahead, but we got there first.  And we were seated in a booth three from the door and M & B came walking in.  I was about to say to him "Bill! Bill! Imagine seeing you at dinner, too" but decided to say nothing.   He walked right by me.   B sat down with us, grinning after him as he checked with the maitre d'.  He came back and said (is this where Bill Engvall says "here's your sign?") "I didn't see you."

Here's their specialty, which Karen had and we all tasted and loved -- the 101 layer (yes, it says so on the menu) lasagna:

And dessert:

That's chocolate mousse with whipped cream.  And, now, because K said I couldn't actually eat that much mousse:

 It's good after 35 years I can still surprise her.  And thatI can do so by eating large quantities of chocolate.  Win-win. :)

Now, for Bill Nighy's play.  Bill was fine, though I told M that I wondered if Bill every played anything but Bill -- the hand gestures, the halting delivery, the twitchiness -- and this part seemed to allow for it all.

And Carey Mulligan, the female lead (I guess she's most famous for *An Education* and *Never Let Me Go*) , was pretty good.

But the play left us unsatisfied.  You see, after two hours of angst and back and forth, Bill just leaves. It may be turnabout, but it stinks.

Then there's the casting.  Mulligan is 30.  Nighy 65.  Eventhough his character isn't that old in the play, it's really, really, really hard to believe they had a 6 year love affair.  Yes, in someone's fantasy (a casting director's?), but not in our world.  And without believing that, even with my friend Bill twitching and hesitating and acting all vulnerable -- THERE'S JUST NO WAY!!!!

So, having solved the problems of the world, and having no idea what we see tomorrow (is it Jake Gyllenhall or Diane Lane?) we go to bed.   But not without my final piece of humorous propaganada that goes with the opening ancecdote on taxis and social class (found in the bathroom at the restaurant, take that as you will) --

Day 2: Sarah JP, Shopping w Michael and Espiscopalians

Yes, happy Reader, we are halfway through our Spring Break extravaganza in New York City.  It was a good day.  I will continue by going in order of interest.

The play du nuit was *The Heidi Chronicles,* starring Peggy...errr...Elizabeth Moss (from *Mad Men*, which I love).  The play was good, with the two male characters, stunningly named Scoop and Peter -- a good, solid production of a decent play, though a bit too issue-driven for my taste.

But Sarah Jessica Parker sat in the row in front of us -- right in front of us.  No one said anything to her.  The old biddies in the row behind me went all atwitter, loud enough for SJP to hear, I'm sure ("It's Sarah Jessica Parker").  We were all good, up to the point where I followed her into the Ladies Room and did my best "meet cute."  [BTW, I tried using this term in class last semester and my students didn't "get it" -- I spent 10 minutes trying to explain it, which really wasn't worth it]

The mid-afternoon was spent around Herald Square, or is it Harold Square? shopping.  Michael does NOT do shopping.  He really does act like a 50s husband -- "I don't do that shopping stuff" "I hate shopping" -- including missing that there are people in Macy's trying to give him free samples and lure him in, and the appeal of 10 million square feet of clothing store space.  I mean, I understand his notion of "who needs 50 options on black or charcoal khakis?"  He seemed to want to stay together as a foursome, with dualing shopping desires, so I had to point out we could separate, even in a place as large as Macy's, as we all had cell phones.  We managed.  Though that Macy's is F***ing huge.

And, the final header point, dinner.  We had a great time at a Brazilian steakhouse -- here's a picture, with the usual slabs of meat:

If you've never done this style of eating, there's a "salad bar" which has more food than most normal people would eat at a dinner -- tonight's had warm dishes of risotto, scalloped potatoes, rice pilaf, and a lobster stew, sushi, shrimp cocktail, potato salad, pasta salad, salad salad...I could go on.   Once you warm up, you turn over a coaster to green and these waiters bring around skewers of meat: garlic steak, ribeye, filet mignon in bacon,  pork sausages, chicken wings, turkey wrapped in bacon, lamb, prime rib...tonight there were no ribs.  We were disappointed.  Not hungry, but disappointed.

Now that you have the gist of the meatfest, I give you this: I invited a friend from LHU to dinner (and her NYC-centered partner).  She accepts, and, in fairness, I tell her where we are going.  She shows up and drops it that she is an Episcopalian -- she will eat fish, but not meat.  Okay, we are in the home of char-grilled meat with carcasses being drug across the restaurant and she's...wanting more vegetables.  Really?!?!?!?  Of course, she's nice, and it was great having dinner and socializing, but...she could have said SOMETHING!  I think there's another restaurant in New York.  At least one.  Even maybe Italian food. Fortunately, her partner loves meat and doesn't get it often (obviously).  He packed on a few slabs.

Finally, K and I went to the Museum of Natural History (for a generation, always heard in Walter Cronkite's voice).  Which is big.  A long walk.  My highlight picture is this --

Yeah, butterflies.  Awesome, eh? Amazing, eh?

Sorry about the lack of comedy.  M needs to turn his game up some. :)

Funny First Day

Day one of the 2015 Spring Break trip left us laughing.  Sometimes even on purpose!

However, we have to begin day 1's recap with what may be a daily "contractor story."  See, both S & H's are in the midst of builds or remodels, making for more conversation about floor tile than you would think possible.  Yesterday's "ah oh" was on the drive in when the H's contracted texted a photo -- never a good sign.  Since he's supposed to have been done already (though he insists he isn't really behind), to be texting pictures mean something has gone awry.  And, yes, something had: the vanity, once unpacked, had a big crack in it AND the faucet was broken.  What to do?  He was working on repairing it, though he wondered about "matching the glaze."  SMN!

Also heard on the drive in were the following comments.  I will allow your imagination of fill in the context:

M:  I like it on top.
M:  That didn't look like six inches to me!
B:  Do you like kinky boots (was she really talking about the play)?
M:  What's the red light for K?
S: (In NYC)  There's a Starbucks here?
S: (a bit later)  There's another Starbucks?

After much milling and waiting, we were checked in the apartment (someone tell them that using a jack hammer at 7:30 isn't conducive to vacation-goers), parked the car, and made our way to the M&M store, where, it turns out, M had an audition (signified by his initial on his chest).  Here's the photo of said audition --

I don't think he got the gig -- something about not being sweet enough.

Then we saw *A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder.*  It was the second time the H's have seen it; it's awfully funny (you kill off six people in six different ways to get to be the earl, what's not funny?) and a good start.  M (maybe based on the disappointment of the audition) thought it was funny and entertaining but weak, "the book is thin...there are only like three good songs in it."  There's your review.

From there, through traffic and taxi shift change to dinner, where the waiter delivered the funniest line of the day.  M ordered the "loup de mer" with a "if that's how you are supposed to pronounce it" and I followed with my best Oklahoman of "I'll have the black bass."  Without a beat the waiter says "that'd be black base, sir."  Touche.

The highlight meal, for those of you hungry for food porn, was the free range chicken (aka quail?) shared by B & K.

It was delicious and so was the fish.

Then off to an evening show -- this time Terence McNally's *It's Only a Play.*  Insert appropriate Laurel & Hardy joke here, which would be appropriate since the play was full of that kind of routine. M loved it because there were more inside theatre jokes than an episode of Slings and Arrows, but it's not really a play (you knew I couldn't resist playing off the title) but a series of jokes looking for a plot.  Martin Short, we all decided, despite being like fifth billed, was the star and quite good -- Matthew Broderick, Stockard Channing and F. Murray Abraham all were decent, but none looked like Tony contenders.  Just tired actors working on tired material (there's that review).

Speaking of which, it's Day 2 and we have neither tickets or plans except lunch and dinner (yes, we came here to eat, duh) so look forward to day 2's post, whoever you are (or aren't) -- it has the potential to rehash more tired jokes and unhash some food porn.  Adieau!

Into the City

Yes, intrepid Reader, S&H are at it again!  In the long tradition of *How not to Have a Vacation,* we are traveling together again, this time to New York City -- the Big Apple.

For background: for some years, we went to D.C. to see plays, mostly Shakespeare.  However, this year there was nothing there we wanted to see in February (or now), so we have substituted this trip for that one.  It's a lousy substitution in terms of budgeting -- if you don't know, New York is more expensive than Washington (duh!) and we are staying longer.  Ah oh.  Bank account alert!

Last night we ate the "the best place in Bloomsburg."  Let me just say, when "the best place" in a town is BYOB, well, one wonders.  Three of us had steak; Michael had the crab cakes, Barb the scallops.  We had a delightful time.

Now we are going to NY and Michael is already singing.  Despite my Monty Python admonition -- like here.

But we're going off to NYC to see how to love and murder, to keep a delicate balance, maybe what a skylight looks like, some museums, some food (I think the list, if kept, is contemporary American, Brazilian, & Italian [who knew?]).  Maybe even some fun. :)  More later...wish us clean travels into town & a good day of matinee and dinner.