G's Broadway Adventure

*SPOILER ALERT!* - This post may contain spoilers for Pee-wee on Broadway!  If you want to be surprised by the show then I suggest you avoid reading this post (though I do try to keep them spoilers to a min). xG

I love Pee-Wee Herman.  LOVE.

If you love me so much then why don't you marry me?

I WILL MARRY YOU.  I will call off my engagement to Matt and marry not only Pee-wee, but the entire show!  Then I'll let the show carry me over the threshold to our new house (the Playhouse of course) and make sweet love to me!  I will have little show babies with the show and, when we die, we'll be set aflame in a boat at sea.  THAT'S how much I love it!

...was the exact sentiment of the man seated at the end of our row at The Pee-Wee Herman Show on Broadway last night who also felt the need to speak-a-long with the entire production.

Where's the most annoying audience member, Globey?  Right... there!

Now lissen, I really do love me some Pee-wee.  See: farewell email to law firm where I was employeed for 8 (loooooong) years:

-----Original Message-----
From: Mcmurray, Glennis F.
Sent: Thursday, April 17, 2008 3:27 PM
To: NYC ALL
Subject: But What Am I?

Today is my last day in the firm.

Just like Pee-Wee Herman in his Big Adventure...

I'm off to find my bike.

PEACE

-Glennis

But, you guys, I wouldn't marry him.  I mean, he's kind of a man-child and I know from experience that's just a recipe for disaster.  (But speaking of recipes... we do have similar diets which is the most important foundation for any happy marriage!  Fried butter, anyone?)  So, yes, I love Pee-wee (LURV, in fact), but doesn't everyone?  And can't pretty much everyone quote him?  So it's not that impressive that you know Jambi's going to utter, "Meka leka high meka hiney ho" a few times or that Conky will give us the word of the day up top.  (The word was "fun"!  AAHHHH!)  And when you tout your impressive (yawn) knowledge of the show throughout said show (that I paid a lot of money to see) you're kind of asking me hate you for having a good time and that makes me feel like a beast so just shut up already!

Ahem.

Let me back this train up.

Paul Reubens is my hero.  I know I deem a lot of people my hero which means I've got a lot of heroes.  Nothing wrong with that, Chach.  I admire Paul's career and especially his chameleon-like transformations.  Need I remind you of his stint as Prince Gerhart on 30 Rock?



Best death scene ever?



Excuse me... what?  Paul Reubens on The Gong Show?



OK so that last one was just for fun, but he really is the greatest.  And ecu me?  This?  Yes please!

So what I'm trying to say is I saw this show soley based on my love of Pee-wee not really knowing what the show would be.  It ended up being everything I'd hoped for and more.  It was just like watching an episode of Playhouse (of the CBS variety) from the 80's only live and flashier and LIVE!  Seeing Paul as Pee-wee in person, in front of my face, on stage was to say the least thrilling.  The audience rose to their feet when he walked on stage and I had a moment of "this is actually happening" which I didn't expect.  I wasn't brought to tears (ahem man at the end of my row), but I was definitely moved.  I just... I just love him so much, you guys.  Paul Reubens, that is.  Where as some performers shy away from a role or character that made them (*cough*JonHeder*cough*), Paul Reubens basked in it, went with it and has taken it to the ends of the earth and back.  There's not a bit of me that doesn't admire and aspire to that.  Not only should you be proud of creating something people respond to and want to see more of, you should respect the fact that not many people will ever do something like that.  I understand wanting to diversify yourself, but why stop the train from rollin??  Are you too good for your character?!  (But seriously, no Napoleon Dynamite 2? What the fudge?)

OK, stepping off my judgebox now.

Lynne Marie Stewart, who now plays Charlie's mom on "Sunny", reprised her role as Miss Yvonne and was just delightful.  I honestly wish the show had just been Paul and Lynne on stage, maybe improvising, maybe just staring back at me.  Lurv.  Lynne had two snafoos (her petticoat slipped off and Chairry's wig got stuck on... Chairry) which she handled with all the poise and grace you'd expect a Groundlings alum would possess.  Also reprising his role as Jambi (Mecka Lecka... YES WE GET IT DUDE.  YOU KNOW THE SHOW.) was John Paragon.  Yay John!  He was always my favorite.  OK I may have had a crush.  My therapist would have a field day with that - "a disembodied head who grants wishes and asks nothing in return?  Iiiiinteresting..."  I choose to focus on the fact that he's trapped in a box allowing me to know his wherabouts at all times.  You're telling me you'd turn that down, ladies?



Aaaaanybroadwaybaby... I mean, really the entire cast was great, Chairry (voiced by the adorable Lexi Fridell), Phil LaMarr made the perfect Cowboy Curtis (and his bio alerted me to the fact that there was a Patty Hearst musical called "Patty Patty Bang Bang: The Patty Hearst Musical" - hello!) and for only having one line as himself, Drew Powell was great as the dancing bear (he also voiced Mr. Window and the Flowers).  The swoonie Josh Meyers killed me as the sessy Firefighter and I'm pretty sure I'm going to turn my laptop into Screeny after seeing "her" live, but where, I ask you, was Reba the Mail Lady!?  Maybe she needed a break after appearing in more episodes of a show than anyone, ever.  Boom!

Three things: according to Wikipedia Cyndi Lauper recorded the theme song for Pee-wee's show under the name "Ellen Shaw".



Second, they showed a Penny cartoon last night and by they I mean The King of Cartoons (played by Lance Roberts - fun fact: he played the Genie in 7,000 performances of Aladin at the Hypereon Theatre - I don't think I've ever done 7,000 of anything.  What am I doing with my life!?!  Ahem.) which made me realize I'd totally forgotten about Penny!



I can't find a lot about Anna Seidman, the voice of Penny, but apparently she is on Facebook and we have no mutual friends.

Third, Natasha Lyonne was a member of the Playhouse Gang in season one.  I couldn't find a clip of that, but I found a clip.. of her... watching herself on the show?  Weird.


I love the girl so, though it's weird, I highly approve.

Last I'll just say that my number one, big top moment of the show was Pee-wee's balloon work.  You have to see it to understand.  HOWLING.

Now, back to the BIGGESTPEEWEEFANSEVEROMGOMG.  As I said, they talked through the whole thing, but it wasn't just the talking.  I knew they were enjoying themselves which was why I kept my trap shut (something I often have trouble doing), but the fact that they looked around after each comment to see, I can only assume, who was impressed with their Pee-wee knowledge was really too much.  Did you really pay all that money to see a show so people could know how much you love the show you paid a bunch of money to see?  Doesn't that kind of go with the teritory of paying a lot of money to see a show opening night?  Wait, at one point Pee-wee makes microwave popcorn and the guy goes "Popcorn!  Hahaha!  Popcorn!  Hahahahahahaaaa I told you'd there be popcorn!" at top volume.  Oh brudda.  So they were a pain, but not a total distraction, and as the show ended we all started filing out of the theatre when I heard, "You keep your goddamn hands off me!!"  Surprise, surprise it was mouthy Jones and his partner starting a fight with a 60-year-old man.  Come ON.  They continued to fight as they walked out of the theatre and try as I might to catch up with them I missed it all.  I did catch someone coming down the stairs say, "he had his hands around his throat!"  REALLY??  I guess I just assume a Broadway production brings out the best in people and then I look around to find jeans, fanny packs and wife beaters and reality sets in.  I once exited a show to hear a woman scream, "Oh no you did NOT just stick your hand in my purse!  She's tryin' to steal my shit!"  Now DAS classy.

So, in closing I say: go see Pee-wee if you're a fan of the show, go see Pee-wee if you're not a fan, just go see Pee-wee.  It's one of those experiences you really should have before you die.  Wait, maybe the guy causing a ruckus in my row was from the Buried Life... they seem pretty douchie.  (Really, marrying a stranger in Vegas is something you have to do before you die?  Pu-leeeeez.)

Oh and if you do end up going - behave yourself!

Love,

Glennis

The Pee-wee Herman Show on Broadway plays through Jan 2.  More info here!

A Great Show! (I know you are, but what am I?)

Get A, How You Say, Clue

The evening started off innocently enough - a collaboration meeting between me and director at the Manhattan Inn with a smooth transition into piano-oke, McGinty-style, at the strike of 10.

We arrived promptly at 8:30, took our seats - wine in hand - at an empty table and set about talking all things "The Untitled Glennis McMurray Project". (OK, it has a name, but it's far too fabulous to share just yet should all the Glesbians spontaneously combust in a fit of frenetic anticipation.) All shop talk dropped, however, when the sweetest of all papers were dropped into our laps: the karaoke song lists. Had I been holding a baby she might also have been dropped. I said might. I love karaoke, but my passion for the empty orchestra has waned of late. It's too much trouble dealing with divas, screamers and drama just to share my sweet rendition of "Get Low" by Lil' John & The Yin Yang Twins. (Note: it's my jam. Do not steal.) But my love has again been renewed by the discovery of piano-oke. Something I once attempted with my own fingers for my dear friend Girty's birthday until realizing my pinaner playing has the smooth rhythmic tempo of a fish slowly dying on a rock in the blazing sun. Read: No skills. So read: I was excited.

I believe the joyous evening was kicked off with director-Kate's sultry rendition of "Natural Woman" which set the tempo and the bar. It was high and we were planning on hightening it with each song. A little healthy competition if you will. And you will. I was next and I attempted a new jem: "Suspicious Minds" by Elvis. No doubt my favorite Elvis song I had my doubts as to how it would play in this room having never sung it before. It started off well enough, but in the original key it started to fall a little flat. That was when my genius ego kicked in, kicked it up an octave and proceeded to kick every last patron in the proverbial nuts. Someone call the FD cuz this bitch was on fiya.

After my song I excused myself for a visit to the old water closet and, after doin' my biz, zippin' my shizz, washin' the filth and checkin' the smacker, I walked out with a spring in my step for I was ready for more drink and song. I was abruptly stopped, upon exiting the bathroom, by a ponytail-sporting, sunglasses-on-head wearing, European Jagwad. I didn't know he was a Jagwad at the time, it was only following this conversation that I put twos and twos togethsies.


JAGWAD: Excuse me. What is your name?

ME: (Only slightly put off that an advance is being made outside the ladies bathroom where he has been laying in wait.) Glennis.

Notice my slight hesitation did not stopping me from giving my real name. I was banking on the fact that this advance was only due to my killer set of pipes and that the next words out of his mouth would be "I own a record label..."


JAGDONG: Ahh. Hmm... I feel as if I have, how you say, met you before? What is your name?

He moves closer, I back away.

ME: I told you my name. I don't know if we've met. You don't look familiar.


JAGLOAF: No? It's just your... how you say... (references my ENTIRE BODY) is so familiar to me. I'm sorry, but I saw you up there and I just, how you say, thought I knew you. I had to say hello.

OK, so he didn't really say, "how you say" but he might as well have.

ME: (Only slightly flattered.) Well, thank you. It was nice meeting you.

Exit - stairs.


DINKOFF: Wait, I am so sorry. Are you, how you say, a, how you say, actress?

ME: (Annoyance growing.) Yep. I am. Well, it was nice meeting you.


POOPDRAWERS: Ahhhh yes, I knew it. You are so you have been on the Broadway?

He did say THE Broadway.

ME: No. Well, nice to meet you. I have to get back to my table now.

Exit - stairs.


ASSBALLS: You would have a drink with me?

ME: (Jesus!) No, I'm sorry. I have a fiance.


CREEPDOUCHE: Ahh. I am so sorry. How you say?

ME: What?


DICKBAG: Is your fiance... is he... here?

ME: No. He's not HERE. But he is (pointing to my chest) here.


WANKLOG: I'm sorry?

ME: In my heart. (Boom! High five, McMurray!)


CRAPSOCK: Ahh... I see you say. How? But... he is not... HERE? At the bar?

ME: (I'm pretty sure I visibly recoiled.) OK, WELL NICE TO MEET YOU.

EXIT - STAIRS, QUICKLY. BACK TO TABLE. SIT. Ease disgust by picking new karaoke song.

I recounted the events to Kate and we were both grossed and creeped out. But only slightly. There was karaoke to be sung, you guys! And for my next number? "I've Never Been To Me". Hey, lady? You, lady?

As the night progressed so did our drinking and as I returned to my seat from a not-so-great attempt at "One Night In Bangkok" (hey, they can't all be winners) I saw that the Monstertool was sitting at the table next to ours. Thankfully he didn't make things any more uncomfortable. He just relentlessly stared at my face. How flattering, right ladies? Dude... back it up. I decided it was time for another visit to the ladies room and after my biz, as I exited the stall, Kate walked in saying, "I think he's waiting outside the door. Wait for me and we'll walk up together."

Gimme an S! Gimme a T! Gimme an A! Gimme an L! Gimme a K! Gimme an E! Gimme an R! What does that spell??! No, seriously, Jagoff, tell me what that spells, apply it to yourself and hit the bricks. Thankfully, when we walked out he was nowhere to be found.

Now here's the thing about McGinty-style karaoke. It's awesome. It's so awesome and so great you never, ever want to leave. And the back room at the Manhattan Inn that houses said karaoke is one of those rooms that I dream of having in my future mansion. Exposed brick, tables encircling a white baby grand center stage, strange, moss-like chandelier overhead and, of course, Joe McGinty on keys. I got, how you say, a little caught up. After a third friend joined us and we were on our 3rd bottle of prosecco, the room started to get the spinnzies and I was along for the ride. I excused myself again to splash some cold water on my face. I had a pretty clear head, but felt ill, y'all, and was kickin' myself in the ayz. I carefully walked down the stairs of yee old Manhattan Inn, opened the bathroom door and, when both stalls were taken, slumped in the seat outside the door. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted, who else, F*ckfaceJones again. A stall emptied and I rushed into the bathroom avoiding him even seeing me, or so I thought. I splashed cold water on my face, got my wits about me and went back outside. And there he stood.


JAGOFF: Excuse me?

ME: DUDE. (I screamed.) LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!!

Exit - stairs. Two at a time.

I decided it was time to leave and as Kate paid the bill, I joined third-companion, Marcy outside where she told me she'd spoken to Jagoff's friends to find out if, you know, he was just a drunk douche or if he was, how you say, a Total Creepball? Apparently their conversation went:

MARCY: Is your friend... drunk? Or is he, you know, trouble?

JAGOFF'S FRIEND: Do you have a boyfriend?

Sooo... there you go. A creep is a creep is a creep.

As we started walking home together we wondered what we'd do if Jagoff et al followed us. I said that, without hesitation, I'd turn to him/them and, using my best Clair Huxtable impersonation, would say, "If you don't exit my site line immediately I will call the cops and have you arrested for harassment" and if it came down to it, I KNOW how to take care of myself. Thumbs in eyes, knees in groins, man on ground.

Here's the thing, I don't want to be a jerk and ignore any man who tries to talk to me. I do think it's hard out there for a guy as well. I have sympathy for the man just trying to make a move and getting rejected before he even begins. I do believe there are nice guys out there. I really do. And, I mean, listen - if they want to compliment my pipes who am I to stop them? I just couldn't help but wonder if I'd been too friendly when he first approached. I mean the waiting room outside the bathroom was a creepy place to approach me, true, but I figured he was waiting to use the facilities, not stalking his future skin-blanket. I feel like I handled the situation well, but something about that night bothered me more than just the creepy, unwanted advances. I felt really great that night. I mean, I felt really great. I've had issues in the past with hiding, in one way or another, because of unwanted advances from men. In fact that was part of the reason my pal Marcy and I started Dance Dance Party Party. Sometimes, sadly, men just don't get it. My smiling at you does not mean I want your man meat grinding on my lady rump! And after the incident at Manhattan Inn I started to feel like going back into my "hide yoself" shell, but then I stopped and stepped and backed that train up. *beep* *beep* *beep* Why should I stop being fabulous because YOU can't take a hint? Answer: I shouldn't. No woman should. We should all be able to flaunt it, work it, walk it and sass it without a man stalking our shit.

Today I saw this in Jezebel. Well, fuck.

Be great, be fab, be the best you you can be and just know there are going to be a few stinkers out there. Unfortunate, but true.

Love,

Glennis