Don’t Tell Mama, but Cabaret’s Dirty!

•June 23, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Am I just desensitized or is this a bunch of hoo-hah? TUTS’ Attendee Responses to Cabaret

Maybe I’m just a dirty girl, but what is all the fuss about? Houston- strip-club capital of Texas!

So I wrote THIS.

Tria Wood aptly pointed out that a tour of the Mendes version came to Houston in 2000. I even saw it… featuring Leah Thompson, who- despite being my childhood girl-crush and a capable singer/dancer- couldn’t act her way out of a paper bag on stage.

I see the show tonight. (Thank you, former colleagues!) Will report back with even more uninvited opinions…

Classical music accused of snobbery? You don’t say!

•June 9, 2009 • Leave a Comment

A friend of mine- who happens to be an opera conductor- posted a link to this article about classical music’s alleged elitist tendencies.

I certainly have opinions on this matter, but before I share them, I’d like to hear from YOU.

Please take a moment to fill out my very short survey… it will be most appreciated!!

So won’t you be my neighbor

•May 26, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Just a reminder that I invite you, at any time, to let me know when I’m being a jerk.  Go ahead.  Any time you wish.  But here’s what that means: in return, I reserve the right to tell you that you’re being a jerk.  Deal?  So here goes…

Howdy neighbor,

I know we don’t know each other that well.  I know that, despite that fact, we’ve seen each other in varying states of undress.  That said, you seem like a pretty cool person.  And it seems that you’re a pretty swell neighbor, too, despite not taking the trash to the curb very often and that propensity of yours to slam the door.  (I suppose you could take issue with my singing in the shower at the top of my lungs, so let’s call us square on that front.)  But I have to ask your opinion- or rather, your preference- about something.  You see, I have a dog that eats most anything.  You might think there are limitations to that statement, but… no, not really.  So, when I see him hovering over a pile of broken glass downstairs, directly under your door, I get a little upset.  When I see him trying to eat the cigarette butts in the same area, I am also not pleased.

I am not a detective, but here’s what I think may have happened: someone at your place was drinking and smoking outside and dropped their wine glass from the balcony.  They probably thought, “Whoops! Let me clean that right up,” went back inside to get the broom and dustpan, and then, either had a heart attack, got mugged or was abducted by aliens before they could take care of the mess.  I imagine, by the time they were revived, recovered or returned, they had forgotten all about the cigarette butts and broken glass downstairs.  And that’s cool- I totally understand.  Furthermore, I imagine since our yard is strewn with all kinds of interesting paraphernalia- a downed TV antenna, a rusted basketball goal, a variety of dying potted plants belonging to a former neighbor- it’s easy for a pile of broken glass to go unnoticed.  I mean, we are just renters after all.

But here’s the deal: I don’t like bleeding puppy paws.  And I really don’t want my dumb dog to ingest glass and start bleeding from the inside.  So, it’d be really awesome if that pile of glass could go away.  And maybe the cigarette butts, too, for good measure.  I would do it myself, except that I only have an ‘inside’ broom and don’t really want a bunch of glass in it.  In other words… I don’t want to.  So, here’s my question: Would you prefer I leave you a note about this, knock on your door and tell you, or passive-aggressively blog about it?

Let me know when you have a chance- thanks!

Cheers,

JR

PS: I know I am being a jerk.  No need to tell me this time.

New Soap Box Erected

•May 23, 2009 • 1 Comment

The cat is out of the bag now, so here it is: some of the blogs that would normally be appearing here will now be posted to my new blog on Chron.com.  A Chronicle staffer with a sense of adventure (and perhaps questionable judgment) invited me to be a part of their City Brights stable.  This is exciting as it’s a new platform through which I might occasionally be able to share something of value with a different audience.  The arts are sadly unrepresented in most publications (excepting the NY Times), so here is my humble effort in the campaign.  You can find the blog, Heavy Artillery, in City Brights, in the Featured Reader Blogs, and occasionally on the home page.  I make no promises to behave myself and will probably do a lot of whining about arts funding.  Consider yourself forewarned.

Sarah, watch your back.

•April 17, 2009 • 1 Comment

I haven’t managed to blog in a while.  I promise I will get back to it soon.  In the meantime, fun with drag!

I came across this picture of a guy friend of mine on Facebook and believe it goes nicely alongside a picture of Sarah Silverman.  Voila!

sarah-look-a-like1 sarah-silverman

Boys, don’t underestimate all the great career possibilities that accompany dressing like girls.

Cheers!

To all you Twaters out there:

•March 23, 2009 • 5 Comments

If you don’t want to read about my last meal, unfollow me.

If you don’t want to read my feedback on a movie or TV show I just watched, unfollow me.

If you don’t want to hear about the bizarre incident I just witnessed on the highway, unfollow me.

If you don’t want to hear the side-splitting comment I just overheard from the drunk girl sitting next to me at a bar, unfollow me.

If you don’t want to know about the great party I’m enjoying (where you just might be welcome), unfollow me.

If you don’t want to hear about the causes dear to my heart, unfollow me.

If you don’t want to see a picture of something that made me smile, unfollow me.

If you don’t want to see a clip of a video that made me cry my eyes out, unfollow me.

If you don’t want to hear a song that made me giggle, unfollow me.

If you don’t want to read an article that inspired rage in me, unfollow me.

If you don’t want to read more about the world news I felt like sharing, unfollow me.

And if you don’t care to know the details, the minutiae… that serve as sign-posts  marking the handful of notable moments making up my life each day… then, go right ahead and hit that ‘unfollow’ button.

But don’t put me down for sharing.  And don’t judge those who enjoy this connection- perhaps only virtual- we share.  The world is a lonely place, and we are constantly grasping for common ground.  As the digital age pulls us farther apart, must we criticize a tool to bring us together?  The wonderful people I’ve met, the fun quips of strangers, the goings-on at events across the country, the helping hands when I have a question… these are the things that have sold me.  With ‘140 characters or less,’ I know I am not alone- through the highlights and the tedium.  And that means something.  And doesn’t it mean something that I want to know the minutiae of your life, too?

They say the beauty’s in the details.

Thanksgiving

•March 3, 2009 • Leave a Comment

I recently returned from an out-of-state funeral.  Sad, as funerals invariably are, the event brought a family together that is spread out across the country… a silver lining when one was most definitely needed.  While there, I met a host of people and upon meeting one gentleman in particular, I remarked to my companion that he seemed like a genuinely kind-hearted person.  My friend responded by saying, “He is a good person, but he’s had a hard time of it.  The man has just never really gotten a break.”

And as I watched this man with his family- his attentive, attractive wife and his bright, loving children- I couldn’t help but think he was luckier than most.

As we are all scaling back, conserving, and minding our pennies, it seems we are starting to identify the unique opportunity for renewed perspective.  How can we obsess about the future, when the present needs our attention?  How can we get carried away with what we don’t have without appreciating what we’ve had and taken for granted for so long?

The silver lining of this economic crisis is that the details are being swept to the periphery, bringing into focus what is really important.  It serves as a reminder to us all to not let the next time we see loved ones be at a funeral.