This is really an inaccurate quote since we were not the only people in New York City, we didn't see Sarah Brightman ... but it was a weekend to do different things and try different experiences, so in that sense, it was an Unexpected Weekend provided in part by Song airlines. Let me splain. It all started with a serendipitous moment when I was raving about Song airline to my cousin's wife. I spotted the Song semi-truck and then spotted a parking spot 30 seconds later and 30 minutes later I had won a round trip ticket to New York City. As with most things, there were stipulations to use the ticket and the major one was that the ticket had to be used prior to October 30, 2005. PRESSURE!
So Frank and I looked at our schedules, contacted Song and discovered that the only time we could use the ticket was less than ten days after our return from Europe. Oy vey. We opted for a long weekend in Manhattan and decided to wing it (i.e. nothing planned other than a visit to Malle on Long Island).
The Flights
Song airline does many things well. The entertainment options are great - music, games, movies, food, etc. The flight attendants seem to enjoy their jobs - though the night crew need to silence the inside voices! Don't promote shaken martinis, then complain about being delayed for having to make a martini! And don't complain when you are still standing next to the people who you made the drinks! RUDE! Our return flight was much better. For some reason, it felt like we had less leg room in the exit row than the regular row, so all I'll say, is be careful of exit rows.
Just Another Cow Town
I have had a feeling for awhile that Red Eye flights should become a thing of my past but I still have that lingering lack of vacation time to balance my discomfort. Besides, either I'm getting bigger and need more recovery time or the planes are getting smaller. We arrived at 6:30 in the morning and took the A train to the 14th Avenue station, walked past the hysterical little art displays (Click to see Photos!), and dropped of our luggage at the Chelsea Pines Bed and Breakfast.
So keeping with the "do the unexpected" weekend theme, we tried not to replicate our past experiences and were successful for the most part. The Chelsea Pines Bed and Breakfast is an affordable place to stay in a central location. The staff, however, could best be described as indifferent. We could come and go with barely a head nod to indicate that we were flesh and blood. The nonsmoking rule is apparently not applied to the office staff and seems to permeate through the movie themed rooms. And the color schemes. I'm not sure if it was intentional or if there was a sale in the alley of a side street, but the colors were reminiscent of a Cuban brothel that hadn't seem some love for awhile. Not that I've been in a Cuban brothel with my own eyes, let alone one themed on the great late actor Jeff Chandler.
I don't think I'd use the word "small" to describe the room. Perhaps "narrow" would be a better word. The toilet was large enough that a backup dwarf from the Wizard of Oz could sit comfortably and still shut the door (do the math). The shower was wide enough to allow my shoulders to brush the sides if I stood with my back to the shower head, so it was pretty much a sideway shower option. The bed was pushed up against the side of the wall to allow for a little walkway on the right. If you've been to summer camp and spent a week on a mattress placed on a board, you'd have an understanding of the comfort level of the bed. Suprisingly, we slept in late each morning, though I would venture that it was due to jet lag instead of the "comfy" mattress.
ANYWAY, we arrived, we dropped off our stuff and then began to wander. Now I'm going to get in trouble for this, but at this time of day the NYC neighborhoods are kind of like miniature ghost towns. I would not have been surprised if a tumble weed had rolled down in front of us and Frank says San Francisco is a cow town! There is nothing happening and honestly it is a little eerie considering the throngs of people that begin to emerge by 9:00. We had a pleasant walk (by ourselves and the occasional dog walker) and spent a bit of time looking for someplace to eat. Now, I have a theory about diners (which Frank loves) and I am ok with a meal at a diner for breakfast and in a pinch, lunch. Dinner is sacred. We're in flipping New York City and a diner is not going to cut it! Following the breakfast, we headed over to the South Seaport to wander and to see what would be on the boards for halfprice shows on Broadway. Options were limited and we were tempted with forbidden fruit - Spamalot .
To Be Scalped or Not?
Not that it is a great moral dilemma, but when is it ok to purchase tickets from a scalper? Honestly, the greater discussion we had surrounded our concern over the legitimacy of the tickets. Would we be able to see the show? To be fair, we tried to get tickets for the show before arriving in town and the only awailable seats were partial views (i.e. 15 minutes of the show could be heard but not seen!) and cost $10 less than what we paid for center balcony seats. We would have had to pay Ticketmaster a service fee of $7.50 each, so really it was just a matter of seeing the scalper in person! Obviously we took the seats and saw the show, which was absolutely hysterical. It was hyper-produced, funny, fast-paced and irreverent. My kind of show and totally unexpected.
We saw a total of three shows over the course of the weekend, Spamalot, Sweeny Todd (w/ Patti Lupone) and The Light in the Piazza. One could argue that they were all musicals, but each was unique in its own right. As mentioned, Spamalot was the over-the-top parody of the traditional musicals with Monty Python humor.
Sweeny Todd was the opposite kind of production in that the actors were also the musicians and everything was played onstage without scores. I can't say that I want to run out and buy the broadcast album but as theater experiences go, this was a memorable one. Here's what an online article had to say:
Celebrating its 25th anniversary, Sondheim's musical masterpiece is set in darkest Victorian England and tells the infamous tale of Sweeney Todd, the demon barber who forms an enterprising business relationship with Mrs. Lovett, the
proprietress of the downstairs pie shop.In this chilling and unique production -- a vision of director and set designer John Doyle -- no one leaves the stage and the players are also the pit musicians, with each of the ten actors playing at least two instruments each.
The Light in the Piazza was magical. The thrust stage and the set is one that a road-show would be hard pressed to replicate. When the mother cried, we were close enough to see the tears running down her face. And the fact that it was in English and Italian added to event. Here's a brief summary of the story.
THE LIGHT IN THE PIAZZA takes place in Italy in the summer of 1953. Margaret Johnson, the wife of a well-heeled American businessman, is touring the Tuscan countryside with her daughter, Clara. While sightseeing, Clara, a beautiful,
surprisingly childish young woman loses her hat in a sudden gust. As if guided
by an unseen hand, the hat lands at the feet of Fabrizio Naccarelli, a handsome
Florentine, who returns it to Clara. This brief episode, charged with coincidence and fate, sparks an immediate and intense romance between Clara and Fabrizio. Margaret, extremely protective of her daughter, attempts to keep Clara and Fabrizio apart.As THE LIGHT IN THE PIAZZA unfolds, a secret is revealed: in addition to the cultural differences between the young lovers, Clara is not quite all that she appears. Unable to suppress the truth about her daughter, Margaret is forced to reconsider not only Clara's future, but her own hopes as well.
Going Out
As I mentioned, diners are for breakfast! We tried new restaurants and returned to a couple of favorites. At night we tried to wander to new locations and thanks to Frank's old friend Charlie and his girlfriend Eva, were introduced to a couple of local places that we might not have ventured in to. Good times. We even ran into Gerard at the Eagle and had a little chat. Gerard is the writer, director, producer of the show, Forbidden Broadway. If you have a chance to see the show, say heh!
I have to say that the most memorable evening out was when we traveled with Noah and his ark to dinner. There was thunder. There was lightening, and my shoes with a hole in the sole sucked up so much water that my right foot was basically a mobile lake.
Aside from meeting old friends, Betsy, Malle, Grandma Uzman and of course Charlie and Eva, it was a relaxing little weekend that felt more like a vacation than our vacation. We found Billy's Bakery (the new Magnolias) rode the Roosevelt Tram and purchased a new pair of shoes. It was a full, yet relaxing weekend and as always I look forward to our next adventure in New York City (coming some time in 2006!).
