>Years ago, before I lived in New York, I was here with a group of theater-loving friends for a long weekend of Broadway and tourism. My friend Eileen was sitting on the stoop of our hotel when I came around the corner to meet her. She announced, “You just missed Matthew Broderick & Sarah Jessica Parker!” She went on to describe how the pair had hailed a cab, took a few photos with tourists before Sarah insisted Matt stop posing, “Honey, you’re going to be late!” They gave a quick kiss goodbye, Sarah leaving in the cab and Matthew walking over to the Helen Hayes Theater where Eileen & I would see him perform in Night Must Fall just a few hours later. Eileen described them as cute and petite and friendly to their fans.
I marveled at how normal that must have been for them. To each other, they are just two working actors in love, parting ways before heading to their separate jobs.
Tuesday night Christian and I left our respective offices in Rockefeller Center. We met on our adjoining corner and walked a few avenues together before we gave each other a quick peck on the lips. “Have a great show!” I said and waved goodbye. “You, too!” He answered, giving me the smile that tells me he’s happy in love and life. As I walked away, I overheard someone say, “Hey, that’s the guy from Chappelle’s Show!”
It was then I remembered Eileen’s star encounter and I grew warm inside. Now, I can’t guarantee this, but I have a pretty good feeling that even though we aren’t filthy rich or famous like the Parkericks, the experience feels just about the same. Here we are living in this amazing city doing what we love and sharing it with each other. It’s breathtaking at how happy it makes me . . . I can actually feel my heart swell . . . and even more overwhelming is how afraid I can be of losing it all.
At the Copa, Copacabana!
Seems you readers failed to pray hard enough. Thanks for nothing! The gown they chose at my fitting yesterday is a super-slinky gold concoction which pretty much blends right in with my skin. As the costume designer said during my fitting, “Oh, it will look like a nude, peek-a-boo thing.” My big ole white pasty winter ass is gonna look horrible, but, shhh, don’t tell anyone, especially not the hundreds of people that will be there tonight. I think I’m going to puke.
Then I’ll fit in my dress!