I love entertainment. I love entertaining and I love being entertained. Give me a ticket to a musical, cabaret, play, concert, movie, WHATEVER and I'm like a five-year-old in Willy Wonka's Factory. The colours, the sound, the energy, I just want to plunge into every experience like it's a pool of rich, dark chocolate.
But at what point does that rich, dark chocolate become too much? Is it possible to indulge in so much entertainment that I literally feel sick?
This week's challenge was to pack in as much as I could over a three-night period, starting with Eartha Kitt's cabaret at Cafe Carlyle. (For those of you who are too young to know, Eartha Kitt was Catwoman in the original Batman). Ms Kitt's entrance into this cosy, traditional style cabaret venue, was met with a gasp of excitement from the audience as she squeezed her way between the tables and chairs to reach the stage. Dressed in a tight fitting, red, sparkly velvet gown with a split to the thigh, this sassy creature exclaimed, "I may be 80 but I'm still burning!" And that she did, for about 75 minutes. Having gone to the cabaret by myself, I watched the show from the bar. Fortunately for me, there was a guy there who was also watching by himself so we joined forces and held the bar up together. He even offered to pay my bill at the end of the night, which I declined (then regretted slightly when I saw it. How could I have spent $200?).
My new friend, a 51 year old retired doctor from California who from this point on shall be referred to as "the doctor", told me he is visiting New York for a few days and was planning to see more shows. Now, before y'all get excited, we have absolutely NOTHING in common, apart from the fact that we both love shows. He asked me whether I would be interested in joining him for a jazz concert the next night. As my diary is pretty free until at least 2015, I agreed.
So what hot jazz gig does one go to on a rainy Friday night in New York City? One at the Time Warner Center featuring three-time Grammy winner and stuff of legends, sax player Branford Marsalis. I don't know much about jazz, but I know what I like and this concert was exceptional. The stage was set in front of a 20 metre high glass wall that overlooked the hustle and bustle of Columbus Circle. The view was absolutely spectacular and was the perfect Manhattan backdrop for an evening that was quintessentially, New York.
Now the theatre marketer in me is trying very hard to stop the audience member in me from writing this next line: if you want to see a great show in New York, you can almost always purchase tickets at the last minute. And that's what the doctor and I did for the matinee performance of Mary Poppins on Saturday. In the lavish style of Disney musicals, this show is a feast for those who love the magic of theatre. Fabulous songs, great choreography, incredible sets and set changes. The highlights for me were the upside down dance on the ceiling (proscenium arch) by the chimney sweeper, and Mary Poppins' exit - 'flying' into the auditorium for every audience member to get an almost close-enough-to-touch view of the show's star.
Being Saturday, we weren't going to stop with a matinee. The doctor had been invited to a Halloween party around the corner from my place on the Upper West Side. When I met him later that night, after he had made his appearance at the soiree, he told me about the house and that he estimated the host would have spend $100K on the party. WHAT??? I had to see this for myself, so I convinced him to take me through the place. Well... when we walked in, the owner of this gorgeous 6-storey brownstone townhouse was banging out showtunes on a grand piano and those who wanted to indulge were enjoying a singalong. Everyone was in costume and clearly having a great time at the expense of the host. The decorations were apparently installed by two of the "staff", a couple of Brazillian guys who, if I were judge, would have won 'best costume' for their Mardi Gras style pink and white cupcake creations.
Having satisfied my voyeuristic urge, we headed downtown to Don't Tell Mamas in the Hell's Kitchen area. We arrived at 11pm. It took 30 minutes to get in and almost four hours to get out! I had been wanting to check this place out for a long time and I'm glad I finally did. The concept is, a guy sitting at a piano ALL NIGHT, playing and singing, drunken audience joining in with whatever words they know, and anyone who wants to get up and belt out a tune can. And I did. My blues version of Hound Dog. I don't usually like to sing when I've had a few drinks, but with a couple of cosmopolitans under the belt and complete strangers in the crowd, do you think I gave a toss? I was so thrilled to have found yet another fun place in New York City to frequent as a single female.
I got to bed at about 6am and am now thinking I should head around the corner for some apple pancakes before my 3pm breakfast becomes dinner.
So have I reached the point of diminishing return with this weekend's smorgasbord of entertainment? Did I literally feel sick from my overindulgence? Nope. Any sick feelings are alcohol-related and could also have something to do with the 5am pizza. What these past few nights brought was an even greater view of the endless possibilities that this fabulous city has to offer. Brain food and soul food in abundance my dear friends and fellow lovers of all things artsy. And who knows, they could even be big on sports!
I wish I had more news to tell you on the job front, but alas, this is not the blog. It might be time for you to reacquaint yourself with the god of your choice, because I'd like to tell you some good news in my next blog and probably just need a bit of help from my friends.
Until next week, dive into life, embrace the unknown and dare to live.
Kaylie
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