Week 8 - Tomaytoes, Tomahtoes...

Like most Australians of the television generation, I grew up on a healthy diet of English and Aussie shows: Bill and Ben; Noddy; The Wombles; Playschool, Skippy; Cop Shop; A Country Practice; The Sullivans; and the early days of Neighbours. It was an era when on-screen Aussie language and humour was experimenting with its own identity, but still genuflected deeply to its UK ancestory.

Then something interesting happened. A strange new language and way of life was beamed into our lounge rooms. It was... American. Suddenly, boys in my neighbourhood rode their bicycles like they were 'the Fonz' from Happy Days. My entire Year 5 class was hooked on Welcome Back Kotter. And for a short while, I tried speaking with a lisp because I thought Cindy from The Brady Bunch was cute. Which she was. But I wasn't.

With such a strong educational background in American culture, you can understand why I felt so well prepared to take on the streets and peeps of New York. Heck, I've heard it all. I know my rubbish now goes in the 'trash'. I know that when I dine in restaurants, an 'entree' is like an Australian 'main'. And I know that when my fringe starts to dangle into my eyes, I just head on down to the hairdresser for a 'bang trim'. Yep. There isn't a single Americanism that could stump me. Except, maybe, for 'Turducken'.

This week is huge in the USA, with Thanksgiving to be celebrated on Thursday in every home from coast to coast. Family members travel from everywhere to spend the day together gorging on festive food and sharing in the spirit of togetherness. Me? I'll be spending the day with a friend in San Diego where we'll be joining her friends for some fun and Turducken.

Now, I have to be honest, when this word was first mentioned to me, I got a bit excited because I thought it was a new swear word that I could add to my trash vocabulary. Instead, I'm told, it's a chicken stuffed in a duck stuffed in a turkey, with lots of stuffing! How about that. We'll be dining on a bird orgy. And just in case that's not quite enough indulgence, my San Diego gal pal and I will head to LA for a weekend of fun and celebrity spotting.

Speaking of which, I know you may be curious as to why I haven't spilled any stories about celebrity spots in NYC. Truth is, there haven't been any that I didn't pay to see! But I did have a couple of little showgirl treats this weekend that are worth sharing.

On Friday night I frocked up and took myself to see Broadway legend Chita Rivera in cabaret at Feinstein's. I was smart enough to bat my eyelids at the concierge when I arrived and as a result, scored myself a table that licked the stage. I felt so honoured to be literally two metres away from the energetic 76-year-old belter who sang and moved like a 20-year-old Broadway hopeful. The highlight? Hearing the best cabaret arrangement I have ever heard of "All The Jazz".

Saturday night was destined to be one to remember, and it was.

PART ONE. A dear friend of mine in Australia put me in touch with a New York film-maker, Rick McKay. I am pleased to say that one of Rick's documentaries is one of my all-time favourites - "Broadway: The Golden Age" - a film about the rise of Broadway theatre, as told by the performers and composers of the day. Rick invited me to a 'friends and family only' rehearsal performance by recent octogenarian and longtime Broadway legend, Barbara Cook. So on Saturday evening, I met Rick for the first time (in a cab!) and we headed downtown to a tiny black-box studio space. Rick introduced me to Barbara before we joined the other 30 or so guests. For Barbara, this was just a run through with a trio of piano, bass and drums in preparation for her two performances this week with the New York Philharmonic. For everyone else in the room, it was a privilege.

PART TWO. From this once-in-a-lifetime experience, I headed back to 21st century reality in Soho for a night of cocktails with a Canadian friend of a friend whom I also met for the first time that night. We spent the night at a couple of bars, desperately trying to outdo one another with tales of the most ludicrous life experiences we have ever had. My 'part two' night of debauchery couldn't have contrasted more with the first part of the evening if I tried. So if you're wondering why this week's blog is a little later than usual, blame the coctails.

The Canadian reckon's there's no such thing as a Turducken, which either means that Canadians speak a whole other language again, or someone is having me on. Either way, I am so happy to be spending this week's Thanksgiving holiday with an American family in the USA.

Until next week's California correspondence, Happy Thanksgiving!

Kaylie