Please, Mister Please

photo courtesy of Scott Lokitz

photo courtesy of  OnlyOlivia.com

So..last night I went to see Olivia Newton John with my roommate, his bf and a gal pal. Prior to that, I dashed to an HIV/AIDS fundraiser/house party/art auction with flowers in tow for the hosts...I was Hee-Hawing it up in honor of Ms. ONJ's early career choices, and just to be...well....me.

Anyway, before hitting the road, I grabbed some music to accompany me on my journey to the Fox Theatre. I'm not always the most tidy with organizing my CDs and I'd mistaken misfiled Madonna's American Life in my Buffy Once More with Feeling CD case. I slipped in the CD and hit play. I hadn't listened to Mrs. Richie due to an unfortunate emotional incident (namely making out) in the front seat of an emotionally unavailable (I'll name no names) guy's car.

Ya know how it is, it's all easy to go down memory lane, waxing all nostalgic about some stupid love song.... I thought American Life would be sullied forever. I guess I wasn't as emotionally traumatized as I thought. But I still liked hearing ONJ sing Please Mr. Please. She was remarkable.

Please, Mr., please, don't play B-17
It was our song, it was his song, but it's over
Please, Mr., please, if you know what I mean
I don't ever wanna hear that song again

If I had a dime for every time I held you
Though you're far away, you've been so close to me
I could swear I'd be the richest girl in Nashville
Maybe even in the state of Tennessee

But I guess I'd better get myself together
'Cause when you left, you didn't leave too much behind
Just a note that said "I'm sorry" by your picture
And a song that's weighing heavy on my mind

A NEW DÖ

Anne Romano meets Joey Lawrence

I really don't know what to think about this....

I stole this pic from here.

Opera

So, tonight, I went to the opera for the first time. Opera Theatre of St. Louis is an amazing experience. When you first get there, there's an enormous covered tent; tables set up for dining; folks enjoying lovely little picnic dinners; amidst a lovely garden of beautiful flowers.

It was magical. And that's not even the opera, as in singing part...

I don't think there's a bad seat in the house -- and what I saw tonight was "Flight," a contemporary production -- making it's American debut.

This is a brief review:

Flight is that rarest thing: a popular new comic opera with music that is instantly graspable and often beautiful. Optimistic yet poignant, it indulges sentimentality along with laughs. What matters is that Dove's music flies, the opera is fun, and people are going to love it.
-- The Evening Standard (London)

Well, it was very funny and the performers were incredible.

Add to that, the crowd that goes to the Opera is a really eclectic mix of rich white ladies, kooky older gentlemen in powder blue suits with bow-ties, and the regular assortment of power fags.

The best part of the night was a little girl prancing around in a Taffy Davenport outfit. She was an adorable bratty child and pranced around all night while the slender ladies with severe haircuts and big jewelry puffed on the cigarettes, their David Yurman bangles clinking and clanking. And then when it's all over, the cast mingles with the audience under the tents for drinks.

Just my kinda crowd.

In the Arms of Angels

I had some crappy news today.
I think it's always wise to call upon
a higher power when things get rough.

Some people are touched by angels...
some people are just touched.

Friday the 13th/Fathers Day

A Quiet Sunday at Home.

There's nothing like the weekend to renew, revive and recharge one's mind, body, soul and spirit. That is assuming of course, that the weekend goes normally. Friday night started out with a trip to Freddies, where folks were unusually frisky - a little on the overly frisky, but hey, it was Friday the 13th and a full moon.

Energizer's marketing goldmine at the Race for the Cure.

Saturday morning, I headed off the Komen Race for the Cure. It was a tremendous experience, as over 49,000 folks assembled on downtown St. Louis. There were some especially poignant moments for me. Breast cancer survivors wore pink shirts and were greeted with a pink rose as they finished the race/walk. There was an energy and spirit of hope and optimism. When I first got there there were stacks of blank In Memorial signs for the participants to fill out and pin to his/her outfit. At first, I was a little creeped out -- I thought they'd be mobile tombstones, until I saw sisters wearing the In Memorial tributes to their mom, who'd just died last week. I hadn't considered that for many this was their way to honor the women that this horrible stupid disease had taken.

T he ole even planner side of me kicked in and I was impressed by the brilliant marketing decisions that some of the corporate sponsors made during the event. Saint Louis Bread Co. had oodles of bagels, the Post-Dispatch gave away free papers and Energizer had fetching pink bunny ears.

After that I headed off to the store and purchased the third season of Buffy on DVD, which I've been watching all weekend. I updated the paper's site and did some laundry.

Today is Father's Day. If I were closer to home, I'd have taken flowers to my dad's grave -- instead, I spent the majority of the day driven to distraction, puttering and trying to stay busy.

Kelly made a pineapple upside down cake to take over to his folks. Jim surprised me with a Father's Day present from my kitty Varla -- The Kitty Treats Cookbook. It was a very nice surprise.

Integrity

Scout's Showcase Outfit

Gregory Peck and David Brinkley have died. All in all, they both most have been pretty remarkable fellas. Of course all the media folks are falling over themselves talking about their virtues and the impact of their careers in the national consciousness.

I really don't doubt their impact since I've spent a few too many Sunday mornings watching the latter and have enjoyed many films starring the former. By all accounts these guys had fully functioning moral compasses and acted upon their principles -- that's quite a feat for show biz folk.

To Kill A Mockingbird (the book and the film) resonated on a multitude of levels for me. Especially Boo Radley and that crazy little kid modeled after Truman Capote.

I still pee in my slacks every time I see Scout dressed as a ham.

Cleaning, Havoc and Despair

The Flying Wallendas

Last week was a crazy week. There were a ton of things to do:

-- The print version of the St. Louis Community Pride Pages went to the printer (the 2003-2004 online directory will be up in a few weeks).
-- I worked on the NPR affiliate's Wine Tasting
-- and I designed some fundraising materials for an AIDS Service organization
-- In addition to my own job

So.....I decided to have some fun Sunday night and attend the Circus Flora fundraiser.

I had an amazing time!

I'd never been to a circus. All the fellas were super muscely and all the gals looked like drag queens. Needless to say, it was spectacular.

My scary desk

So....back to havoc and despair..... I decided last night to clean my room. That was a mistake. I've now misplaced all my art and images backup files that I burned onto CD and I've lost the best photo I've found in a long time. It was an exceptional glimpse of 1950's newlywed Americana -- with a bratty child throwing a fit in the background. I'm trying to remain optimistic. Perhaps they'll turn up in some sort of orderly stack of stuff beneath the mounds of crap on my desk!