Okay, I have now rested and recouped after my whirlwind NYC trip (which did, indeed, resemble the voyage of the SS Minnow in the sense of being fraught with mishap.) Here's the basic lowdown on what happened. It's funny now, but was not so much at the time.
After making a mad dash to the Atlanta airport after BCT rehearsal on Thursday, I found myself too late to board the plane. This was aggravating, but not entirely unanticipated, so I got a hotel room near the airport, had a snack and watched tv, and booked a seat on the 6:40am for LaGuardia. The nice little hotel shuttle dropped me off at 5:15am, I checked in, had breakfast at the airport, and nestled into my seat for takeoff.
6:40 - no takeoff.
7:00 - "Ladies and gentlemen, it will be a few more minutes before we depart."
7:25 - "It will be a few more minutes."
7:50 - "LaGuardia is fogged in. Please exit the plane.
At this point, distress is beginning to settle in. I managed to get a 9:30 flight to JFK, which would get me there in just enough time to grab a quick sandwich and take the train into the city to my 1:00 audition.
The 9:30 flight left promptly at 11:05.
Distress has now become a full-blown ulcer. I have now left several messages for the contact person at the auditions (who turned out to be amazingly sweet and understanding) and the thought of an affordable train ride has been tossed out the window. I finally disembark (now at JFK) at 12:52. I jump into a cab, beg the driver to go as fast as possible, and make my third or fourth "I swear, I'm on my way" phone call. I arrive only 25 minutes late, which is bad, but not awful. When I burst through the door of the audition, there is an extremely nice, pleasant-looking lady waiting for me. She introduces herself as Nancy, and says that she has been asked to wait and read Mrs. Howell opposite my Mr.Howell. Great. We have a few minutes to look over the scene, and then we go into the audition area.
I had a chance to share a hello and a hug with Lloyd Schwartz (my friend who wrote the show) and to introduce myself to the accompanist. After singing, I read the scene with Nancy (who made a GREAT Mrs. Howell, by the way) and assumed I was done. To my happy surprise, I was also asked to read for The Professor and The Skipper (guess I'm waaaaay too old for Gilligan) and after a quick "good to see you" with Lloyd, was off on my way.
Did I mention my head shot and resume were in my bag, which I left at the airport? Luckily, I had emailed both of them in to the production team earlier.
By now, I decided that it was all up to God, the universe, and the casting team, so I looked forward to a couple of nights in NYC. I called my friend Jonathan Goldstein, with whom I was staying, and we arranged a meeting place just off Times Square. For about an hour I wandered blissfully in the drizzle and grey of a New York November afternoon, thrilled to be in the city again. Once I connected with Goldstein, we had a great time catching up while we rode the train back out to JFK to get my bag...
...which had been sent to LaGuardia.
Yes, this was annoying, but after a couple of beers in the airport Sam Adams Cafe, we decided just to laugh it off and consider our train trip as good an environ as any for visiting. We finally got back to Goldstein's place (on 191st Street, about 2 hours from JFK) had some dinner, and crashed. I slept on a small loveseat with a chair pulled alongside for stretching-out purposes. No king-sized bed has ever slept better...I was out like a light.
The next day (Saturday) dawned cool and overcast. I borrowed a shirt from Goldstein, and we set out for the Museum of Natural History, which was ridiculously crowded, so we wound up at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, which was delightful. While we were there, Delta Airlines called and asked to deliver my bag. Since I had less than 24 hours left in town, I decided just to send it back to JFK, where I would pick it up for departure. The rest of the visit was great...a nice hearty dinner, drinks at some fun East Village bars, getting lost on the subway twice (another funny story) and keeping my fingers crossed not only for myself, but for Goldstein, who was up for the role of (no joke) Rev. Billy Graham in a play.
Sunday morning came, and I trudged back to JFK, only to find that my luggage had been sent BACK to LaGuardia. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Fine, just send it to Birmingham. I made it back to Atlanta, and drove home without incident.
Indeed, the "tiny ship was tossed," in keeping with the Gilligan theme, but all ended well. I got home just fine, Goldstein did, indeed, get the role, and I am still hopeful that I will be among the "seven stranded castaways" on tour this spring.
This has turned into an epic posting, so I will close for now. I would, however, like to return a shout-out to my friend Aaron, who is performing in a professional production of "A Christmas Carol" right now, and sent me a nice break-a-leg on his blog. Thanks, Aaron, and God Bless Us, Every One!
In today's News From The Motherland...man cuts off own head with chainsaw to protest eviction...I would have thought a strongly-worded letter would be sufficient...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/hampshire/7737721.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
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