Author: Jeff Tabaco

Tonight we’re seeing Take Me Out at The Studio Theatre. (You know, I used to live just a few blocks from there, and had never gotten around to seeing a show there until now.) Tonight’s performance is a benefit for One in Ten (a gay and lesbian arts organization you may know as the producers of Reel Affirmations, among other events), and there will be a reception after the show.

Yesterday I called them up to ask about tickets and was put on a waiting list since the performance had already sold out, and then this morning I got a call back saying some tickets had opened up. Score! I’m totally looking forward to it.

» Related: reviews of this production on Potomac Stages, and in the Post and Washingtonian.

[Update (June 15): Take Me Out was fantastic. Thom and I had a great time. He has written a thorough review (with which I agree), so check it out. And see the show if you can (as Thom notes, it’s not for everyone, but most of our readers would likely enjoy it); it runs through July at The Studio Theatre in D.C. Aside: the photo above is of my ticket and the day’s page from my Peanuts mini-calendar, which appropriately enough has Charlie Brown playing baseball.]

Last week the Post ran a series of articles on Metro’s problems. It includes some interesting graphics, including one (somewhat suggestively drawn, if viewed in a certain frame of mind, ahem) that shows which escalators in the system are among the longest. If you’ve taken the Metro here, you know that some stations are located so deep underground that getting to the surface can seem to take forever. (I’ve wanted to calculate how much time, say annually, I spend on Metro escalators.) The one at Wheaton, which holds the title of longest escalator not only in the Metro system but also the Western hemisphere, measures 508 feet long, almost as long as the Washington Monument is tall (555 feet).

The one I use every day at Bethesda (photo above by yours truly) comes in at second place in the system at 475 feet long. I often read a magazine or work on a crossword puzzle on the train, and then continue while standing on the escalator. I’ve walked it a few times, “for exercise,” I tell myself. Not fun.

This was a pretty relaxing weekend. On Saturday we stayed in most of the day, and in the evening went to Pentagon City for dinner and shopping. I got a pair of pants at Gap, and a shirt at Express.

Yesterday Thom wasn’t feeling well when we awoke around noon, so as the afternoon progressed, we kind of lost the momentum to go downtown for the D.C. Pride festival. Instead we lazed about (I did some reading and napping), and then curled up with a good movie, Sideways. Back when I saw previews for this in the theater, I didn’t think much of it, but after all the critical acclaim, I had to see it for myself. It was pretty good. Taut story and good acting. Aside: before seeing it, I had assumed the movie, being a road trip through wine country, took place in Napa or Sonoma, but in fact most of it is set among the wineries and restaurants of Santa Barbara County, in Solvang, Buellton, etc.

When I saw “Cat Kung Fu” in the New Yorker, I had to laugh.

Our cat, Alex, is like that, though lately his preferred nemesis seems to be his little Pooky teddy bear. (I haven’t rematched him with the cow yet.) Whenever he starts attacking his toys, Thom and I chant, “Kill it! Kill it!” We’re so encouraging.

I love his expression in this photo. He’s all, “What? I love my teddy bear!” [claw claw scratch scratch]

Today’s Times has an article on fashion for shorter men. (Also picked up by the other similarly statured Jeff, as I knew he would.) Though I’m considerably short, I usually have little problem finding clothes that fit. The trouble is in finding clothes that fit well. The article has a related list of retailers, and I will vouch for two of their mentions, Gap and American Eagle Outfitters. I’ve shopped at both, more at the former, and found some good (if occasionally bland) items there. Most of the shirts I wear to work these days are from H&M. Maybe I should pay a visit to Jimmy Au’s.

Aside: pants at Gap stores are arranged with the shortest, smallest sizes on the top shelf. Every time I wanted a pair of pants I would have to ask a salesperson to help me reach it. And it occurred to me: yes, I know we are a left-to-right, top-to-bottom-reading society, but still, why would they put a product literally out of reach of the very people who want it? (I later wrote an e-mail to Gap corporate, and got a noncommittal “we constantly review our store designs; we’re looking into it” response.) Incidentally, Gap stores now carry just the middle of their size range — other sizes are available on their website only — so my issue is kind of moot.

In the latest New Yorker, there’s a David Sedaris story entitled “Turbulence,” which deftly links a bunch of things that I often find both enjoyable and frustrating: air travel, crossword puzzles, and well, other people. It opens,

On the flight to Raleigh, I sneezed, and the cough drop I’d been sucking on shot from my mouth, ricocheted off my folded tray table, and landed, as I remember it, in the lap of the woman beside me, who was asleep and had her arms folded across her chest. I’m surprised that the force didn’t wake her — that’s how hard it hit — but all she did was flutter her eyelids and let out a tiny sigh, the kind you might hear from a baby.

Under normal circumstances, I’d have had three choices, the first being to do nothing. The woman would wake up in her own time, and notice what looked like a shiny new button sewn to the crotch of her jeans. This was a small plane, with one seat per row on Aisle A, and two seats per row on Aisle B. We were on B, so should she go searching for answers I would be the first person on her list. “Is this yours?” she’d ask, and I’d look dumbly into her lap.

“Is what mine?”

If that doesn’t hook you in, I don’t know what will. Check it out.

It occurs to me that 10 years ago (almost to the day, a bit past), I graduated from high school, St. Ignatius in San Francisco. I haven’t heard anything about a reunion for my class; perhaps planning was overshadowed by the school’s 150th anniversary of its founding, which culminated in a celebration at the campus last Saturday (my Bay Area vacation had ended just a few days before, so I wasn’t there). I found some photos of the event on the web, and here’s San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom, with faculty member Bob Drucker (if memory serves). Gee, does Gav ever not look like a million bucks?

But back to graduation, sometime when I’m back at my parents’ house, I should dig up my valedictory speech. (And make Thom watch the video.) I do remember that the inspiration for it came from a poem I had found by T. S. Eliot, called “At Graduation 1905.” The opening stanza:

Standing upon the shore of all we know
We linger for a moment doubtfully,
Then with a song upon our lips, sail we
Across the harbor bar — no chart to show,
No light to warn of rocks which lie below,
But let us yet put forth courageously.

Goodness, can’t you just hear the strains of Gaudeamus igitur? While it might be nice to have a reunion, I still keep in touch with a few of my friends from those days, so I’m not completely out of orbit.

Just to catch up on the past few days: on Saturday Thom and I had planned to go to a cookout in Maryland along with Sheldon and Gretchen, but Thom had been having back and leg problems (he saw a doctor this morning), so we stayed home that day and took it easy.

On Sunday afternoon, Sheldon and Gretchen stopped by for a nice visit, and that night Thom and I watched the Tonys on TV. Speaking of Broadway, as I’ve mentioned before, we’re going to New York at the end of July for Thom’s birthday, and have lined up tickets for a few shows: The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, Spamalot, and La Cage aux Folles. Usually we see two or three shows per trip, but if we make it four this time, we might see The Light in the Piazza as well. We’ll probably swing by the MoMA as usual.

[Update (June 8): La Cage just announced that it is closing on June 26. Thanks to Jere for the heads up in the comments.]

Last night we met up for dinner at Cosí in Bethesda, and then went to the Landmark Theater (Bethesda Row) for an advance screening of Hayao Miyazaki’s latest movie, Howl’s Moving Castle. It was all right. Though I periodically got distracted by how wispily drawn the hero is (I don’t want to say “typically anime,” since I don’t know enough to confidently venture that far), the scenic animation is otherwise great. The story is pretty interesting and it has some engaging characters, with a cast of voices led by Emily Mortimer and Christian Bale. (The eclectic bunch is rounded out by Jean Simmons, Billy Crystal, Lauren Bacall, and Blythe Danner.)

By the way, an interesting article on Miyazaki by Margaret Talbot appeared in The New Yorker earlier this year; an interview with Talbot is also available.