Aw, this is nice. At the McDonald's All-Star Game, a showcase for the best high school basketball players in the country, a girl won the Slam Dunk Contest. Pretty cool, huh?
Of course, it helps that said girl, 17-year-old Candace Parker, is nearly 6-foot-4 and capable of palming a basketball. But still. A girl won the slam dunk contest. Hee.
Today I woke up, found out that the Yankees lost their season opener to the stinking Devil Rays, contemplated the fact that a classmate of mine from elementary through high school just died of brain cancer, and, in my usual show of stellar judgement, proceeded to go watch the filmed version of that most uplifting of musicals, Sweeney Todd.
I'm so depressed right now it's not even funny.
What I'm reading today: Dance With Demons: The Life of Jerome Robbins, by Greg Lawrence
The Yankees are opening their season with a game against the Devil Rays in Japan. At five in the frickin' morning.
That's just wrong.
Today, the Massachusetts Legislature approved an amendment to the state constitution that would define marriage as a union of a man and a woman, but allow gay civil unions. In order for the amendment to go through, it has to be affirmed in the next legislative session and approved by voters in 2006.
Basically, the proposed amendment is a compromise between the liberal stance of allowing gay marriage and the conservative one of not allowing any kind of legal union for gay couples. It was probably the sensible way for the legislature to go. But seriously, who are we fooling here?
The civil union 'solution' to the gay marriage 'problem' is a cop-out. Answer the damn question, America: Do you think gay couples are as valid as straight ones or not?
Legally, marriage isn't an institution tied to religion. You can be married by a judge, a ship captain, or a friend who was ordained by some online 'church.' So telling me Jesus wouldn't approve of having Stan and Dan get married isn't going to do much convincing. And try telling an infertile couple that their marriage isn't real because it won't produce children.
The fact that many Americans are willing to let gay couples have civil unions but not marriages is just a reflection of the fact that they're uncomfortable with homosexuality. If you look at the word roots, homophobia doesn't mean hatred of homosexuals. Phobia means fear. Yes, they say, it's okay for Polly and Holly to be together- as long as you don't equate what they have with what my parents had. Because that makes uncomfortable.
Well, that's just too damn bad. You can't outlaw what you're uncomfortable with. Gay couples and their advocates aren't fighting this fight so they can get health benefits. They want recognition that the love between two people of the same sex is just as real as that between a man and a woman.
So decide, people. Is it?
What I'm reading today: C Programming: A Modern Approach, by K.N. King
Man, do I like Richard Clarke. Remember, folks, vote for Bush and you get Dick.
What I'm reading today: Life: The Science of Biology, edited by William K. Purves
I just caught myself skipping down the hall. There is absolutely no reason in the world I should be skipping. None.
I need some fresh air.
What I'm reading today: C Programming: A Modern Approach, by K.N. King
I had a good night. My head is going to explode, but it was worth it. For the third week in a row(!) I saw a musical, in this case my school's production of You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown.
I've had the cast recording of Charlie Brown for a while, so I knew better than to expect anything resembling a plot. The musical is basically a string of episodic sketches- like short comic strips, now that I think about it. There are only six characters with a small orchestra, and no pyrotechnics, so everything depends on the actors' performances. Luckily, they did a great job.
All six of the actors were wonderful, with great comic timing. Every joke was nailed perfectly. Their singing was quite good, and the dancing, while nothing fancy, worked. The guy who played Charlie Brown was really good, but his part is quieter than those of Lucy, Snoopy, and Sally, even if it's "his" musical. The standouts were Snoopy and especially Lucy, but everyone was energetic and funny, which helped in the ensemble numbers.
The best song of the night was The Book Report, which basically documents four of the kids' ways of dealing with a homework assignment. In an audience made almost entirely of college students, Charlie Brown's rationale for procrastination got a big laugh:
Anyway, the whole cast knocked this number out of the ballpark. It was great.
***
Right after the show, I followed my hallmates to the movie screening room next door, where we watched Spellbound, a documentary about the National Spelling Bee. The whole thing brought back some not-entirely-pleasant memories of my spelling bee run in 8th grade. I actually made it to regionals (the level below nationals) before losing, but I didn't study. At the time, I regretted not working on it, but the movie reminded me that it was probably for the best.
The eight kids in the documentary ranged from the serious, driven Nupur to the downright weird Harry, who asked the documentary crew if their microphone was edible. (He was joking. I think.) The common angle that the filmmakers were pushing was that competing in the National Spelling Bee was a bit of the American dream for the these diverse children and their parents, teachers, and communities.
What I really liked about the movie was how generous it was to all its subjects- yes, we laughed at some of them, but no one was really being held up as an object of ridicule. It would have been so easy to make a movie about strange, geeky, maladjusted little freaky spellers and their horrible parents, but the filmmakers show the other side to each of their stories.
For example, the closest we come to a miserable kid with stage parents is the Indian-American Neal, whose father drives him relentlessly. The father spends most of Neal's segment talking about the incredibly elaborate study system he's set up for his son. Neal comes off as the incredible Robo-Speller- he meditates, studies all day, and seems to have almost no personality at all. Just when you want to smack Neal's father, he shows you the house he and his brother built by hand and exults in how America will reward anyone who works hard. You can't hate him.
In a film full of self-made immigrants, the rich, WASP-y Emily doesn't exactly elicit sympathy when she talks about her au pair and horse riding lessons, but for all her privilege she seems sweet and well-spoken. Even the silliest people, like April's mother, seem human. All of this makes the spelling bee scenes agonizing to watch. Who do you cheer for? Angela, the always-hopeful self-described "prayer warrior" from Washington, D.C.? How about Ted, the excruciatingly lonely kid from a small school in the Midwest? Or Angela, who makes up her own study methods since her parents don't speak English? I couldn't help but want them all to win. And I'm hoping I wasn't quite that dorky when I was in eighth grade. :)
What I'm listening to today: You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown (1999 Revival)
Today we dissected a mink in biology. I have to admit I've never done that one before-a couple of frogs, a bird, and three pigs, yes, but never a mink. But my little college is a bastion of political correctness, so the animals we dissect are leftovers from fur farms. Whatever.
The really annoying thing was that today's focus was on muscles only. It was driving me nuts. To me, dissection begins with a big old incision along the length of the torso to start exposing all the organs. Today, we spent all of class literally trying to rub the skin and fat off a mink so we could see its musculature. Pathetic. I want guts, dammit! And livers! And spleeeens! Muahaha!
***
Yes, I'm perfectly sane, thank you. Why do you ask?
In other news, thanks to my new time travel machine, entries from the past few weeks are going to magically start appearing on the blog soon. Or maybe I was just to lazy to finish them before. Who knows, really?
What I'm reading today: Stephen Sondheim: A Life, by Meryle Secrest
I'm back from fulfilling the greatest homework assignment ever: Go see a professional production of a musical. Ha! As if I needed an excuse. So for the second time in a matter of months, I was off to Broadway, which has to be some kind of record for me. The show to be seen: Gypsy.
I have to admit I was a bit nervous about seeing this production- some of the good folks down at ATC were consistently bashing the direction of Sam Mendes and, more importantly, the performance of Bernadette Peters, and the only previous experience I had with the show was from listening to the Ethel Merman-starring OBC.
So there were questions. Did Mendes suck the life out of the show? Could Bernadette dominate the proceedings as Rose without a mighty Merman-esque belt? Well, no and yes. In other words, I loved this production.
The night got off to a brilliant start in an unconventional way- the overture. Lead trumpet Chris Jaudes took full advantage of his solo, improvising and soaring higher and higher until he absolutely brought the house down. It was spectacular. How often do you want to give the lead trumpet a standing ovation?
The supporting cast surrounding Ms. Peters' Rose were consistently excellent. From Heather Tepe's saccharine sweetness as Baby June to David Burtka's great dancing as Tulsa in All I Need is the Girl, everyone shone. Tammy Blanchard shocked me and totally nailed Louise's transformation from an awkward wallflower to the brazen Gypsy Rose Lee. The actresses playing Mazeppa, Tessie Tura, and Electra were hilarious, even if the sight of Electra's "costume" at work probably scarred me for life.
But my favorite member of the supporting cast was John Dossett, who played Herbie. He invested the role with so warmth and dignity he almost took my sympathies away from Rose altogether. The Herbie on my cast recording sounds kind of silly in his limited singing time, but Dossett's interpretation just blew me away. I never cry at shows or movies, but when he left Rose I came about as close as I could. Truly an amazing job.
Then, of course, there's the biggest star of the bunch. Bernadette Peters was Rose, even if she wasn't Ethel Merman. In a way, her casting was downright inspired. Throughout the musical, Rose is supposed to be an overgrown child without the maturity to see the selfishness behind the show business dreams she has for her daughters. Only after Rose's Turn does she finally begin to grow up and realize she's "gotta let go." With her almost cutesy singing voice and brilliant comedic timing, Ms. Peters was a perfect woman/girl. I admit that it seemed her voice was wearing down under the stress of playing Rose every night, but she even used the strain to her advantage, to convey emotion and urgency. And she acted the hell out of Rose's Turn. I almost wished I hadn't seen her do it in last year's Tonys, so I would have been more surprised.
Of course there were occassional flaws- I didn't agree with everything Mendes did, but overall I thought the show worked beautifully. Let's face it, with a score and book like that, it's pretty damn difficult to kill the show. The only real complaint I have is with the ending, when Rose proposes a name for her and Louise's new act: Isn't Louise supposed to correct her? Instead she just walked off silently. That's just wrong; the whole idea is that Louise and Rose have switched their parent-child roles. Just a little niggling thing. Maybe I'm wrong.
All in all, I don't see what the chateratti were moaning about in this production. It moved well, looked good, and sounded great. The jokes were consistently on-target, from a frantically joyous Mr. Goldstone, I Love You to the aformentioned strippers in You Gotta Get a Gimmick. All the actors were completely convincing in their roles. People were cheering for the overture, and that doesn't exactly happen every day. Even the lamb was great. What's not to like?