You may have seen the news story today that a group of prominent community leaders in Washington, D.C. have filed suit that the liquor license for Trump International Hotel there should be revoked because he, as owner, is not "of good character."

I note this because one of the complainants is Rabbi Jack Moline -- who as longtime readers of these pages know -- is one of the Board of Directors of Elisberg Industries.  (You can check out more on the good fellow under "About Elisberg Industries / Our Corporate Board."  Or also read this article here that I wrote on Jack, with whom I've been friends since we went to high school and Northwestern University together.)

Hey, when our fine Board of Directors has been put together, we do our best to provide only the finest for our appreciated readers.

I've tried to embed the press release below, and it should work.  You can scroll to the last page where it shows the bios of the various judges, pastors, reverends and rabbis who have field the complain, and see Jack's bio there, second from the bottom.  I note, as well, that right below him is Rabbi Aaron Potek, who is says served as campus rabbit from 2013-2015 at...Northwestern University.

With the World Cup starting over the weekend, and watching England's exciting opening match against Tunisia (that was tied 1-1 through regulation and then England scored during the four minutes of Extra Time to win the game), I was reminded of an article I wrote here four years ago To the Day, June 18, 2014.  It told the story of perhaps the greatest sports miracle that I ever witnessed -- and concerned not only the World Cup, but England.  I thought it only appropriate to re-tell the story.

​Now that the World Cup has started, and the United States has come up with a miracle victory, I thought this would be a good time to tell the story of not only one of the greatest, unknown World Cup miracles, but one of the all-time great sports miracles, period.

It's how my family and I got to see the World Cup in London, 1966,

And I'm serious.

Okay, no, it's not the upstart United States hockey team beating the Soviet steamrollers.  Or the unknown Roulon Gardner defeating the unbeaten, invincible legend Alexander Karelin.  It's not Kirk Gibson hitting a home run on one leg, or Doug Flutie's Hail Mary.  But those are more remarkable physical achievements by talented athletic.  This was an act of otherworldly intervention.

When I was but a wee kidling, my family took a summer trip to Europe.  One of our stops was London, where as fate would have it, the British were hosting the World Cup that year.  As maniacal as we know the rest of the world is over soccer, England might be the home of soccer insanity.  In a land known for tradition, soccer riots are de rigeur there.  If you're not rioting, you're not trying.

Nonetheless, my dad thought it would fun to see a World Cup match.  (Note:  The concept of it being "fun" to see a World Cup match is not relatable for most soccer fans, most especially those who are the aforementioned British.  "Fun" is a nice get together for tea, or taking your dog for walkies.  Being able to see a World Cup match in England is closer to being life-affirming.)  And so, uncaring of the obstacles, my dad found out how to apply to the world lottery being held to get tickets   He sent in his form and enclosed his check, and then went on with his life.  Meanwhile, throughout England there was national prayer held nightly in homes throughout the country, if only the Almighty would grant them a ticket.

We got four tickets.  

But that's not the story, it's not even close to the miracle.  It's just the heavens warming up.  Because, you see, we just get four tickets to the World Cup, we got them for...the Opening Match!  Which would be filled with grand celebration and royalty.  But thing is -- that's not the story, either.  Because, again you see, featured in the Opening Match of World Cup 1968 was a team that it was likely British fans -- so knowledgeable of all the great teams in the world -- would dearly would love to see.

That team was England.

Yes, that's right.  By just randomly sending in to the worldwide lottery, we got four tickets to the Opening Match of the World Cup between England and Uruguay, held in London at Wembley Stadium.  And here's the thing:  no, that's not the sports miracle, either.

I should note that we were very happy to get the tickets.  Not "mad-crazy-happy, my life has been made whole" like anyone in England would have been to get those four tickets, but certainly happy.  But happy as in, boy, this will be fun.  I mean, to be honest, one has to put this in perspective.  Wembley Stadium is huge, after all.  It seats 90.000 people, which is 80,000 more than the town, Glencoe, we lived in.  So, the chances of seeing the match very well were small.  And not being mad-crazy soccer fanatics, not being able to see the game very well in the nosebleed section would certainly lessen the majesty of the moment.  But still, that didn't matter all that much, since I was pretty young and didn't know the rules of soccer all that well.  (I can't speak for the rest of my family, though I suspect I knew more than my mother.  You kick the ball and hope it goes in the net.)  But just being there in the massive crowd, somewhere, anywhere, amid all the excitement, that would be cool.  Just to be able to say we were there.  Wherever "there" was.

Where "there" was turned out to be -- okay, are you ready:  mid-field, center line, halfway up, directly across the field from where the Queen of England was sitting in the Royal Box.

Okay, that's the sports miracle.

Let me repeat.  With the entire world of sports fanatics converging on London, England, for the World Cup, we got four tickets to the Opening Match in which the host country England was playing, seated at midfield halfway up Wembley Stadium across from the Queen of England.

Seriously.  

And to be clear, this isn't the fuzzy memory of a little kid recalling things far better than they actually were.  Exaggerating for posterity.  No, I have photographic evidence.  

I took pictures.

​​(Sorry for the guy's head.  I wasn't great at composition at that age.)

Look directly across the field.  Do you see that "box" just below the horizontal white line, marking the upper level?  That's where the Royal Family is sitting.  Directly opposite us.  If you look closely, I believe that Queen Elizabeth is waving at you.

I told you I wasn't lying.

It was pretty remarkable.  As I said to my dad just a couple days ago, reminding of the story, if he had decided to sell these tickets it would have paid for the entire trip.  "And," he added, "your college education.  And your brother's." 

The crowd, the ceremony, the excitement, the game, it was great.  Memorable to one's bones.  Absolutely wonderful, historic.  There was only one disappointing thing about the match.  Ever since I knew we had the tickets, one of the things I was looking forward to seeing was England score a goal amid that maniacal crowd going soul-bursting wild for the home team.  (Even at that age, I grasped the concept of such drama.)  And the final score of the game between England and Uruguay was...0-0.  

Zippo.  Or as the soccer folks like to say, "Nil."  Or more accurately, nil to nil.

​​(More action photos from the collection of photo-journalist Robert J. Elisberg.  Notice the compositional improvement after many minutes of experience represented here by the lack of heads getting at least completely in the way.  Hey, when you're a little kid, people are bigger than you are.)

So, no bursting of massive cheers by the heart-loyal English crowd at the site of the goal for their beloved home team.  No cheers over a goal from anyone.  On the good side, at least we weren't there to see England lose.  In fact, just so you know, the zero goals were not the result of a mediocre team.  Indeed, host England went on to win the world championship.  They just didn't choose to get any goals that particular day.

Hey, that's the way some miracles go.  Sometimes, the fates decide to put the miracle in perspective.  After all, you shouldn't take the good and miracle for granted.

But a dozen years before Al Michaels asked the question of sports fans at the Lake Placid Olympics, I had already been able to answer the sports question.  Yes, I do believe in miracles.

When I next get together with the Queen, I'm sure we'll swap tales of that day.  No doubt it wasn't as much a sports miracle for her -- I'm sure she had an in, or went to a scalper -- but it was nonetheless quite a day of national pomp and circumstance, so I'm sure she had to have written about it in her journal.  For all I know, she's got snapshots of me in return.

When talking with my dad about this the other day, he noted one other thing.  "How did I get those seats??"

It was a miracle, dad.  The greatest sports miracle ever.  At least to some people.

Back over a year ago or so, I was talking with my friend Myles Berkowitz, who I've mentioned here many times.  (a filmmaker and writer-director-star of the movie 20 Dates, the inventor of LifeSize diet product; political worker, fundraising guru, entrepreneur, real estate something or other, ​professional Dad's Club president, and more.)  Despite his insistence to the contrary, his politics are not libertarian as he says they are.  He is, instead, a Mylsist, following a political foundation known to no one else in the world.  It is part very liberal, part a touch conservative, quite a bit libertarian certainly, and it also follows positions unknown to most mortal men.  And twists them all together.  He occasionally begins a sentence, "I know you'll disagree with this and scream at me..." and more often than not, I say, "No, I actually agree," which tends to stun him.  In fact, I agree with him about 60% of the time.  Maybe 25% of the time, it's worth considering.  And the remaining 15%, while I may disagree, I always admire his thinking that gets him to that place.  His ideas don't appear randomly, everything is given intense thought (giving rise to my oft-used admonition, "You are seriously over-thinking this, and driving yourself deep into the weeds.")  He is a Mylsist.

Another phrase that begins many of his sentences is, "You know what I'd do if I was in his place..." -- and I always stop him now and stay how much I dearly love that lead-in, because what follows is always a joy.  It's usually something that's incredibly smart, and has absolutely no practical bearing.  "That's great, Myles, it makes perfect sense," is usually the first part of my reply.  The second part generally is one of the following:  "You do know, of course, that you'd be..." -- and here you can fill in the blank -- "fired immediately / thrown out of the building / never re-elected for public office / sued / arrested for disturbing the peace / beaten to a pulp."  To which, to his credit, he usually laughs and says, "Yeah, probably."

I actually don't get into a screaming match with him over this outlandish ideas.  As I said, even when I disagree, he has really smart thinking that gets him there.  The only time I find myself yelling at him is when he says something that's, in fact, incredibly fair-minded, thoroughly disagreeing with Trump or a Trump flunky, but trying to figure out how they could instead possibly have made a somewhat-similar point but done so in a sane way that would make sense and not be racist or misogynistic or fascist.  I've finally begun to scream at those and cut him off, because I can't deal with the over-reaching attempt to to explain the inexplicable.  My response is generally along the lines of, "MYLES!!  STOP!!!  I can't take it anymore!  Quit trying to figure out what they should have said.  We KNOW what they 'should have said,' but they Don't Ever Say That because they're racists and misogynists and fascists.  Which is why they say the hate-filled things they do!  So, trying to figure out what they should have said is pointless.  You are getting lost in the weeds.  Stop it!!  Stop it now!!!!!!!"  And usually, to his credit, he laughs (Myles laughs a lot) and says, "Yeah, you're right."

Two days ago, Myles called me up.  He said he had checked out my website here and caught up on a lot of what I'd been writing lately.  (It did not pass my observation that this meant he doesn't read my site here often, a point I mentioned.  In fairness, he doesn't have to since we discuss so much of what I'm going to write anyway that he has a pretty good idea.  But still -- that's no excuse.  But I digress...)  And he said, "Y'know, I didn't realize you write as much as you do.  You have an article every single day.  Sometimes even two.  And after reading all these articles you have here all the time -- I finally see why you yell at me to stop trying to figure out what Trump and his people 'should' have said.  When I do that, I see why it sort of makes your head explode."

"Yes, Myles.  That's it," I replied.  And yes, he laughed. ("And by the way, you should read my site more often.")

I must add too that in the recent California primary, his ex-wife from years back was on the ballot.  (And no, I won't say for which race.)  Myles is still in touch with her, and -- bizarre as it may seem -- even was giving her advice for her campaign.  (I told you he dabbled in politics.  I left out that he's a mensch, though I've explained that in other articles.  An annoying mensch, but a mensch nonetheless.)  I told him, however, that I couldn't vote for her.  And didn't.  And since she made the November ballot, I won't.  For all the positive things he told me about her, I said that I couldn't vote for someone who divorced him.  It wasn't just because of the general principle of friendship, it was more that, to me, it showed a profound lack of judgement on her part...  

I bring all this up for two reasons.  One is that I enjoy writing about Myles when the spirit moves me, since he's such a unique piece of work.  The other is because of that conversation I mentioned in the first sentence above that we had 10 months ago or so.

That's when he gave me one of this theories.  I always listen to his theories, pay them close attention, and either immediately accept them as really smart, or put them in limbo to see how they pan out.  Many crash-and-burn, and do so quickly, almost immediately, in fact.  But some flourish and show brilliance.  This is one of those latter.

What he said those 10 months ago was, "You know who Trump reminds me of?  I had this boss, and he was a maniac.  He would intentionally cause these horrible problems in the office.  Things would be a disaster.  And then he'd come in and fix them and say, 'See, look at how I fixed the problem.'  The problem that he created.  He loved intentionally creating chaos, and then telling everyone how brilliant and invaluable he was fixing it all."

The theory was interesting as to how it related to Trump , but I wasn't 100% sure if I agreed with the "it's all intentional" part.  Maybe one or two things, but I thought Trump was so maniacal that the chaos he created was mostly a result of his disordered, sick mind.  And I still tend to think that.  But -- I now don't think it's just "some of the time."  But a lot of the time.  Much of the time.  Maybe I'm even nearing the point of saying, "Most of the time."  (Maybe.)  However, it's become clear to me that Myles was right, long ago -- that Trump is indeed someone who  at least likes to intentionally create problems, chaos and disasters so that he can come in and say, "I alone can fix it."  That may be some obvious today to some, but Myles was insistent over a year ago.

What we have is a man who brought the world close to nuclear war by prodding Kim Jong-un, calling him crazy and "Rocket Man," threatening him with "fire and fury."  And then as the world starts pushing towards red alert, he says, "Hey, let's have a summit" and what an honor it is to meet you and how that terrific Kim Jong-un has got a great sense of humor, that he really loves his people -- and we no longer have anything to worry about nuclear war and can now sleep at night.  Well, of course, the reality is we have a massive amount to worry about, since the murderous repressive dictator who killed his half-brother and uncle still has nukes and got a deal from Trump without giving anything up -- and rather than sleeping at night, we have to stay wide awake and vigilant.  But to the Trump sycophant cultists, they see the world was on the verge of nuclear was and he "fixed it" (sic).  Never mind that he was the one who brought the world to the edge of nuclear war.  And that that hasn't even remotely gone away.

Even some professional analysts have come around the the Myles Theory from long ago.  I heard one on MSNBC after the summit who said, "When an arsonist starts a fire, he doesn't deserve praise for putting it out."

I told this to Myles.  He didn't laugh, though, but immediately said, "YES!!  That's what I've been saying!"

Who knows what he'll say next time?  It may be...oh, a wee bit questionable, or really smart, but it will absolutely be worth listening to.  But I think that what he said more than a full-year ago about intentional, he was most definitely onto something early.  I still think a good part of Trump's chaos is merely the natural by-product of a chaotic mind, that can't help but be the case with a mind so diseased.  But it seems clear to me now that there's actually often a method in his madness, and intentionally creating problems -- whether to fix or blame on others -- is indeed a deep part of the sickness that is Trump.

Happily, I have a Myles Berkowitz to help get me through it all.  Not necessarily because he says things that are so wise and comforting -- he does, some of the time, though not remotely most -- but more because talking with Myles is such a thoughtful, insightful, and wondrously-observant distraction.  Not that it's necessarily way off-topic, indeed it can be utterly laser-focused on-topic...but that it comes from an angle that is off in its own Myles direction.

There's a very good, little restaurant in my West Los Angeles neighborhood, called The Nook, a quality bistro kind of place.  I know that the inveterate Chris Dunn has eaten there, as well, and didn't even require me joining him,  but had a family social night out all on his own, so it's not just me here saying it's a good place.

They send out an email newsletter that includes information about their special menu on several days they have during the week, one of which they call Laundry Day, which is Monday.  An email arrived today, and it's rare that I use the phrase, "Throwing shade," and even rarer when it concerns a restaurant, but this fits too well.

In fact, I admired the effort and low-key phrasing enough that I wrote back in praise, mainly to let them know that the risky joke (dancing the fine line for a business not to offend the customers) was appreciated.  But also, it was so good-natured.  I got a reply, "Haha. Thanks. Glad you enjoyed. Sometimes I just have to let it rip."

The subject line was -- "Go into Laundry Day Completely Unprepared."  Here's that portion of the newsletter.

Last month, I wrote (a lot) about going to back to Northwestern University for a sort of reunion/ fundraiser weekend of the Department of Communications, which ended in a big gala, ​A Starry Night, hosted by Stephen Colbert, filled with alumni performers from Broadway, movies and TV.  (And written by good pal of these pages, the Lady Shellington, Shelly Goldstein.)  I also mentioned attending an event of current students, part of the acclaimed American Musical Theatre Project, started a few years back by Dominic Missimi, which has turned out some impressive grads, like Heather Headley, and also presented some world premiere production and workshops for writers to work with students, all of which I wrote about here that describes the program better, and in much more detail.

The hour-long event was terrific, and I was impressed by all the performers who were showcased.  And I wouldn't be surprised if at least some of them join the list of illustrious alums from the school's theater department.  Unfortunately, there was no video to embed with the article, but I did my best to find alternative clips of some of the songs, as well as a few performers who especially leaped out.

Well, it turns out that there was video of the showcase, and they've just uploaded it onto the Northwestern Commfest site.  And I've embedded the full thing below.

The whole event is worth watching, since all of these young performers were truly impressive.  But as I said, two of them especially stood out.  And rather than find alternative clips and entirely different things (but it was the best I can do), I can now show them to you directly.

What impressed me with all the performers -- but most-especially with these two -- is that they don't just sing the songs, but perform them.  (A trait I've noticed with Heather Headley whenever I've seen her.  Clearly, this program is where they got it from...)

One person I mentioned in that earlier article was a recent grad, Meghan McCandless.  (And no, there is no truth to the rumor that all women in the Northwestern theater department have to be named "Meghan M."  It just works out that way.  Some get roles in Broadway shows, others get royal weddings...) She actually performs in three songs throughout the video, and it's worth checking them all out.  But if you only want to watch these two particular performance, this first one, a song titled, "I Need More," from a show Fly by Night that had its premiere production at Northwestern through the American Musical Theatre Project starts at around the 9:15 mark, and you can jump directly to it.

The other song, is from a workshop world premiere production the AMTP did of a show called, Michael Collins, about the Irish revolutionary.  It has book and lyrics by Ryan Cunningham and music by composer Joshua Salzman, both of whom received the Jonathan Larson Award, named after the songwriter of Rent.  The number is introduced by Cunningham, and feature the same student who played the title role in that initial production.  It's a very good song and a wonderful performance -- and unfortunately, I don't know his name.  I didn't catch it at the live event, and Cunningham says it so fast, I can't decipher it.  It's something like "Judson Dresner," but as much as I tried to do some research, it was for naught, and that's the best I can do.  But here he is and that song, "Live Like You're Going to Die."  The sequence begins around 26:45.

As I said, the whole concert is worth watching, there are quite a few gems, introduced by the program's director David Bell.  The performances begin around two minutes in or so.  Most of the introductions and information before the songs are pretty interesting, though you can always scroll past.  But if you don't want to watch the full thing, do at least jump to those two songs.

By the way, this freeze frame below is the other Meghan M., Ms McCandless.  So, if you want to scroll through for all her numbers, that's what you should look for...
​

I've mentioned that I went to see Audra McDonald in the afternoon on Sunday, and that it was a long day.  That's because in the morning I drove out to Agoura Hills (which is about 40 minutes west of me)  for the 49th annual Topanga Banjo and Fiddle Contest.  I know this isn't for everyone, but it's so different from expectations that I suspect a lot more people would enjoy the day than think so.

I don't go every year, in large part because it's a drive to get there.  Also, it's a fun thing to do with others and I just haven't usually been able to get others to join me.  (Go figure.)  Though sometimes.  So, usually I head out on my own.  But this is something I love.  Hey, I even took banjo lessons!   I think I've probably forgotten it all, but the trusty fellow is sitting there in the corner, and every once in a long while I take it out an strum away and annoy the neighbors.  (I have a wooden device that mutes the sound, and it does that well.  The problem is that it makes the banjo sound like a guitar.  And if you're going to play the banjo, the Whole Point is that it sounds like a banjo...)

Once upon a time getting to the Topanga Banjo and Fiddle Contest was much more convenient.  The early years were held on the athletic field at UCLA, not far from me.  The first time I went was probably around its 10th year.  A lot of fun, though it was mainly just the main stage music, along with a few booths, and it has expanded greatly since then.  Initially, they moved to another college athletic field, which wasn't that great, but eventually wound up in Agoura Hills at the Paramount Ranch, fairly near Topanga, so it's not only a terrific venue for the event, but now an appropriate one, at last.  They've probably been there for about 30 years, give or take.

What's best about the current location is that you're in the middle of Malibu Creek State Park, so you're surrounded by trees, which not only adds a wonderfully more-rich atmosphere than dormitories, college buildings and an athletic track, but there's also now shade around the outskirts of the main field, (if you choose to wander in them or take a hike), which believe me helps A LOT some years, when the sun pounding down can be brutal, especially if you stay there all day, which can about nine hours.
​

But also what's nice is that the Paramount Ranch has been a location for a lot of movie and television filming, most notably as the town for TV series, Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman.  And that too is part of what makes the area so good for the festival -- what with the Western town structure, it has an old-timey feel.  ​
​

The thing about the TB&FC is that while once upon a time it was mostly just that main stage for the contest, it's now really turned into a festival.

The contest itself is made up of a massive range of categories -- divided into instruments, solo or group, singing, backup and more.  And they further divide things according to level of performance:  beginner, intermediate and advance.  In the past, all those were mashed together, which was fairly fun to see, though the quality got a bit ragged.  Now, though, they've gotten more clever -- they realized that they have all these structures, so the lower levels of beginning and intermediate have their own areas.  That breaks things up wonderfully and lets you wander around more for variety.  The main stage is for advanced.

(I'm going to post a bunch of videos I took, but not to worry, none last more than 30 seconds.  So, if you're not big into this kind of music, it's just for flavor.)

Much of the fun of the festival transcends just what's on the stage.  There are so many areas to explore.  Lots of booths for arts & crafts.  An area of food trucks, including some good aromas for barbecue.  (I brought my own food, but maybe next year...)  And one of my favorite things -- the jamming areas, where musicians gather together and start playing with one another.

Much of the fun of the festival is that they also have performance areas that have nothing to do with banjo and fiddle.  Rather there are structures for things like the Cowboy Storytelling competition, or Western dancing competition or Cowboy singing, or things like that.  This was the latter --

When I wandered into the barn to take a look at the dancing competition, they were on a break, however another feature of the festivities is that there are professional groups performing throughout.  And the group on stage were extremely good --

Good as these small, professional groups are, one of the highlights of the day is that – to break up the contest on the main stage (where the advanced musicians perform), they have serious professionals, some with national reputations, performing every few hours, maybe four times or so during the day, doing half-hour sets.  I think the reason for this isn’t just to add variety, but it gives the judges some much-needed time off.

When I was there, they had Jenna Moynihan and Mãiri Chaimbeul from Boston, who played celtic fiddle and harp.  They were absolutely terrific, and charming with their banter.  (At one point, Ms. Moynihan said they'd be singing a song by a wonderful singer-songwriter and asked the crowd if they knew of him.  There was total silence.  And after a proper beat, she added, "So, I'll take that as a Big No.")  Here's only a very short 30-seconds of their playing, but if you want to hear more, you can find their new CD, One Two, which they were selling at the event, here.

The day was great – and the weather (which is often blistering) cooperated lovingly and was in the upper-60s.  I was sorry not being able to take full advantage of that, but as I said I had an hour drive back into the city to meet up with Mark Evanier so that we could go to the Audra McDonald contest.  Er, I mean, concert.
 
It's a joyful festival, beautifully organized, and they've been doing this long enough that they've got the thing down to a T, running impeccably, a fine bit of cooperation between festival folk and the park rangers.  If there's a part of it you're not enjoying, or have heard enough of one kind of music for the time being, you just walk around the spacious grounds to find something else.

For those interesting in knowing more about the Topanga Banjo & Fiddle Contest, and live in the Los Angeles area (or plan to be there next year in late May…), and you might want to see it live, it’s a joy and you can find the link to it here.

Plink, plank, plunk...

There are good things and bad things about living in Los Angeles.  It's not anywhere near my favorite place to live, but there are plenty of terrific things, and so I just focus on those as much as possible.  Two nights ago, I discovered one of the Really Good Things about living in Los Angeles.

This is sort of a tale about that -- just on the good side of "Nyah, nyah, nyah," but it's impossible to tell this without a touch of that coming through.  But mainly it's a heads-up for people who living in Los Angeles who might want to get tickets -- REALLY SOON before they're gone.
​
But first, I have to say that I don’t know how on earth it slipped under the wire for me.  However, I just found out about it totally by accident yesterday.  But this is the notice I saw --

Tickets for "Henry IV," staged by Tony Award winning director Daniel Sullivan, featuring Tom Hanks in his Los Angeles stage debut as Shakespeare's greatest comedic character Sir John Falstaff, with Harry Groener as Northumberland, Hamish Linklater as Hal, and Joe Morton as Henry IV.
 
Yes, seriously.

I don’t begin to understand how this was kept under the wire, almost to the point of being a secret.  I’ve told a bunch of people last night – all theater fans, all in the film and TV Industry – and not one of them knew about it.  I didn’t find out about it – and as I said, only by chance -- until after I got back from Chicago.  (I get a daily mailing about theater in Los Angeles.  I almost never check it, because it doesn't change that much from day to day and sometimes I even think about unsubscribing, since I check it so rarely.  But every once in a while I decide to take a look, and on Monday night I just decided to open the one that came in.  And there was the news.  In fact, I didn't even see it at first.  Initially, I merely scrolled down the list of shows and checked one out, but it didn't offer much information.  And then, off to the side, my eye caught a small notice.)  And so, though tickets had gone on sale a few days before -- and two weeks before to patrons of the Shakespeare Center that's putting this on -- it was so under the wire that tickets were still available. 

How on earth does this stay a secret???  For that matter, how on earth are there still tickets, in a small, outdoor venue (about 600 seats) with a limited-run of just 24 performances ???  Mind you, I’m not complaining.  Because it’s so little known, that’s how I was able to get tickets.  And am able to tell friends and readers here about it.  So, thank  you, L.A. for being clueless.  But – how utterly bizarre. 

Just inexplicable.

And Hanks aside, it’s a good cast, with a terrific director.  About a year-and-a-half ago, I wrote here about seeing the world premiere of a dark, political satire by Jon Robin Baitz, Vicuna, about a character loosely based on Trump. It was wonderful, though I saw it literally the night after the election. And it was the weirdest experience I've had in the theater.  (I'm acquaintances with Baitz, and he acknowledged that the whole thing was weird.)  Anyway, I bring this up because Harry Groener -- who plays 'Northumerland in this Henry IV -- starred as the Trump-like character in that play, and he was terrific.
 
The show runs from June 5 through July 1.  I got a couple of tickets last night.  A fair amount of tickets seem to still be available (most off to the side, though not all), and they aren’t cheap, but a bit less than Hamilton.  Mostly $149 or $169.  Some nights are a little more ($189) and a few performances MUCH more ($500 -- I'm guessing those are fundraisers for the organization).  The outdoor venue, as I noted, is pretty small.  It's located in the Japanese Gardens on the West Los Angeles VA grounds.  (Near Jackie Robinson Stadium, where UCLA plays baseball, if you know the area.)

If you’re interested, you can get more information and tickets here. 

One of the good things about living in Los Angeles.

Today is the 94th birthday of Broadway lyricist Sheldon Harnick, who won a Tony Award for Fiddler on the Roof, a Pulitzer Price for Fiorello!, and such other musicals with Jerry Bock as She Loves Me, The Apple Tree, The Rothschilds, Rex (with Richard Richard Rodgers), and the opera Captain Jinks and the Horse Marines -- and much more.

I interviewed him years ago when I was a student at Northwestern, and he returned to campus as Homecoming Grand Marshall.  I made a radio documentary from it and two decades later when I finally tracked down his address through a mutual friend to send him a copy -- and when I told my mother that I finally found someone who knew where Harnick lived, she said, "Oh, you mean, Aunt Joan?"  I was floored.  I never had any idea that they grew up together and went to college together.  Though. no, she didn't have her address.  When I sent him the radio documentary though and explained my further connection, he sent a handwritten note back, and the first line was, "OH, MY GOD!!!  JOAN SERED!!! (which was her maiden name.  And yes, this is the Aunt Joan who I wrote about here back in January for her surprise 90th birthday party.)  Though they've periodically crossed paths over the many decades, I was able to get them together seven years ago when we all saw a production of his show She Loves Me at the Writers Theatre in Glencoe, Illinois.  (And yes, this was the production I've written about several times that starred Jessie Mueller before she left for Broadway and won a Tony Award for starring in the musical Beautiful.)

But enough of all that.  On with the show.  Here's a wonderful, hour-long interview with Sheldon Harnick from four years ago when he was 90, and you'll see he's vibrant and entertaining.  My only suggestion is that you skip the ponderous first three-minutes from the host. 

Back in Los Angeles, and the elves taking care of the homestead left it in reasonable shape.  The flight was crowded but fine.  But the whole trip began inauspiciously.

I got a cab to O'Hare and within about two minutes the drivers's phone range.  He had it on speaker, so I could hear the conversation -- though he was still holding it in his hand while driving, something which didn't thrill me, though it got worse.

The caller was from an insurance company handling the accident he'd had last week!  (And no, that didn't thrill me either, though in fairness I don't know whose fault it was.  Though in equal fairness, given that he's driving while holding his phone and talking, he's not getting the benefit of the doubt.)

They talked for a couple minutes about what company she's calling from and never quite clarified that.  (English wasn't the driver's first language.  I don't say that pejoratively, just explaining why the details of the call weren't getting settled and taking longer than they might otherwise.)

The insurance woman asked if this was an okay time to talk, and the driver did mention that he had a passenger and asked if he could call back later.  It seemed like that would end the conversation...except that it continued and touched on another topic, which got the insurance lady interested in pursuing it.  Eventually, I heard her ask the driver if he could discuss that now.

At which point I couldn't take it any longer and called out loudly, "NO!  He can't, he's driving!!" 

The driver took the hint, said he'd call back and immediately ended the call.  I actually think he appreciated me saying that because I sensed he didn't want to hang up on an insurance adjuster.  In fact, I mentioned that that, in part, was why I called out so loudly, so she'd hear it and know it was my "fault" for him hanging up, and not his.  It turns out I was right, and he was appreciative that I'd done it, which got him off the hook.

​But still -- pretty odd.

​

Among the many performers participating were --

Stephanie D'Abruzzo (C93)
Nancy Dussault (BSM57)
Gregg Edelman (C80)
Craig Bierko (S 86)
Ana Gasteyer (C89)
Kathryn Hahn (C95)
Heather Headley (C97)
Marg Helgenberger C82)
Laura Innes (C79)
Brian D'Arcy James (C90)
Richard Kind (C78)
Gary Kroeger (C81)
Stephanie March (C96)
Seth Meyers (C96, H16) -- on video
Dermot Mulroney (C85)
Tony Roberts (C61)
Kimberly Williams-Paisley (C93)

There were a few other performers who I didn't recognize by name, but when I saw them knew who they immediately.  And not everyone did a musical number or sketch, but rather introduced others and told stories to tie things together.  

(And I must add here, too, that the Head Writer for the event was my pal, the occasionally-mentioned here Shelly Goldstein.  It was a terrific evening, and hats off to the Lady Shellington, who also performed in one of the sketches.)

Fun, too, was that had a chance to finally meet my email buddy, Morty Schapiro, who is the president of Northwstern.  And I had a nice talk, too, with Pat Fitzgerald, the football coach and former All-American linebacker on the team.  (I told him that I knew my dad -- who had season tickets for 51 years! -- would want him to know how important Northwestern football was to him.)  Both fellows were extremely nice.

And finally (!), something I didn't think would ever happen, but the elves back in Los Angeles taking care of the homestead were jealous, something I didn't think in their DNA.

So, back to the show.

Seth Meyers wasn't able to attend in person, though the show evening with a very funny video of him and Stephen Colbert, sitting at the elegant, fictitious Northwestern Lounge in New York.  They reminisced about both having majored in "Talk Show Hosting" while at NU, with minors in Quips, Chit Chat, and Pretending to Listen to a Boring Guest.

The opening number was a funny duet performed by Stephanie D'Abruzzo, who got a Tony nomination for her role in Avenue Q which won the Tony as Best Musical, and Ana Gasteyer, best-known for her years on Saturday Night Live.  One of my few quibbles of the night is that, being such a big admirer of D'Abruzzo, I'd have loved to have seen her get a solo number, but with such a line-up, I understand the limitations...

Colbert didn't have a great deal to do throughout the show, although he did introduce several performers and told his connections to them from his time at school -- including a story of his classmate Harry Lennix, who plays the FBI Director on The Blacklist, being the first person to come up to him on the dais after Colbert's controversial speech at the White House Correspondents Dinner (basically, it had to do with George W. Bush and others on the dais being totally silent after a somewhat-concerned Colbert finished, and Lennix saying to his friend, after looking the panelists over, "Fuck all these people"), and he also stuck around to close the evening.  But in addition to the very funny opening film Colbert delivered a 10-minute monologue that was wonderful.

(When he mentioned that he takes on the president every night on his show, there was applause through the room.  He laughed and ad-libbed, "I don't know if you people are applauding because you like what I say, or if you are supporting the president.  I don't think I want to know.")

There was a great trio of sorts with Broadway performers Gregg Edelman -- who had been in the musical City of Angels, and sang a song from the show -- Brian D'Arcy James and Richard Kind.  Terrific as they all were, it was D'Arcy James who had one of the highlights of the evening.  He starred in the Broadway musical version of Shrek, as well as Something Rotten, and was in the Tony-winning musical Titanic.  But as it happens, he was also the original 'King George' in the initial off-Broadway version of Hamilton (returning to the role after the show moved to Broadway, rejoining the cast later in the run), and he performed his show-stopping number from Hamilton, "You'll Be Back."  And it was the best rendition of the song I'd seen.  Most versions play 'King George' as a bit foppish, and make the song comic, though with a dark underpinning.  D'Arcy James however sang it more as a very angry father, controlling his fury while leaving his love on the surface, and it was funny but far more malevolent -- and he brought the house down, getting everyone to join in on the "La-dee-dah-dut-dahhhhs" at the end.

Another highlight was Craig Bierko, who in 2000 took on the risky job of following in Robert Preston's footsteps, and starred as 'Prof. Harold Hill' in the Broadway revival of The Music Man, getting a Tony nomination (as well as winning other awards for it) in the process. He enthusiastically and superbly recreated two songs from the show -- "Trouble" and "76 Trombones."  (One of my other quibbles is that the number was oddly staged at the end -- they made it fun, bringing out some of the Northwestern marching band, but it was done in a way that didn't allow the audience to really applaud, and you could tell they were ready to explode.)

End-staging aside, here's Bierko performing the number in full during an appearance with the Boston Pops, under the direction of Keith Lockhart,

And the show closed with the luminous Heather Headley, who deservedly had two numbers in the show.  The earlier was during a film montage honoring many alumni of the School of Communication.  If you don't know her work, I'll rectify that in coming days.  She was in the original cast of The Lion King, then starred in the lead role of Elton John's Broadway version of Aida, played the Whitney Houston role in a musical version of The Bodyguard on the West End in London and recently returned to Broadway as 'Shug Avery' in ​The Color Purple.

(I should also note for regular readers of these pages that Heather Headley’s first song was a tender ballad performed while a montage was shown of special people they wanted to honor from the School of Communication.  One of whom was Newton Minow, father of the oft-mentioned here Nell.)

This isn't from the event last night, but five years ago, and it's not a great video, but this is the song that Heather Headley ended the night with, "Home" for The Wiz.

Not shockingly, she brought the crowd to their feet.  And with Stephen Colbert returned for some brief comments, and the wonderful evening ended.