On my way to the subway yesterday morning, I passed an Amish couple. You do not know what the word incongruity means unless you have seen an Amish couple on 42nd St., he pulling a rolly suitcase and she eating an ice cream cone, walking past the wax statue of Michael Jackson outside Madame Tussaud's.

Speaking of, right after the verdict, they put that statue out on the sidewalk instead of Nic Cage or Samuel L. Jackson, which I find in astonishingly bad taste. "Here, little Jimmy, go stand next to the statue of the pedophile and Mommy'll take a picture!"

Revolting. The Amish didn't flinch, but one of the great things about being Amish, one might imagine, is to be blissfully unaware of the Michael Jackson trial. Lucky, lucky Amish.

At work, the big show is getting so close to being sold out for the run that I broke down and bought a staff-rate ticket. It's half-price, so that's good, which is not so much free, but if there are no tickets, then there are no tickets, and I don't want to miss the show.

On the other hand, I was given a bottle of wine from one of the other shows, so that's two bottles of wine and one bunch of flowers from the two shows from this one production company, which ain't bad. I haven't quite come out ahead, but it's close.

Then was my last rehearsal before tech, starting after the tech of the one-acts, so we didn't really start until close to 10p. Didn't leave until 12.30a, even though the show is only an hour long. This was because I had to yell at them for a real long time.

I have rarely seen a more dreadful rehearsal that close to opening. Henry doesn't know his lines, it seems as though he hasn't looked at his script even once outside of rehearsal. Does he think that the lines will just fly into his head and out of his mouth when the elves and fairies sprinkle him with pixie dust?

It wasn't just him, though, everybody was going up, even perfect Phylis, and the Ride of Wakari sequence was the most hideous abortion ever to be seen on the stage and the whole thing was a nightmare.

I am assuming that they got the fear of God slammed into them, because as I always tell actors, I'm not the one up there looking like an asshole, that would be you.

But honestly, I don't understand why someone who can't learn lines would even want to be an actor. There is almost no worse feeling in the world than standing on the stage and realizing that you haven't a clue as to what to say next, so why would you put yourself through this ordeal? I am completely confused.

Tomorrow is tech for Kirsten. I don't want to hear one word about a bad tech meaning a good show, mostly a bad tech means a bad show because you are bad and don't know your lines or your blocking and don't talk loudly enough and cannot act, but that's less pithy.

This is the rehearsal Sheera was going to skip. It is to laugh.

Then I went home and collapsed and watched My Big Fat Guilty Pleasure, aka Hit Me Baby 1 More Time

This time is was The Knack (the reason to watch the show), The Motels, Tommy Tutone, the completely anonymous "What is Love" guy, and Vanilla Ice. Oy, Vanilla Ice? Give me a break.

Well, let me tell you guys, The Knack kicked some real big butt on "My Sharona", as well as the Jet song that totally is a Who song no matter how they say it's a Jet song, and The Motels and Tommy Tutone and "baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me no more" were perfectly acceptable

The shock of the show, though, was our little Robbie Van Winkle, who KICKED OUT THE MOTHERFUCKING JAMS! Who knew? Who knew that Vanilla Ice, of all people on the planet earth, singing "Ice Ice Baby", of all stupid rap songs, would make me jump around my apartment like a loon? "A1A BEACHFRONT AVENUE!!"

Annoyingly, I didn't have the whole thing TiVoed, so I didn't see Ice's cover of whatever the hell he covered (I don't know any of these new songs they are doing) or who won. Fortunately, the show is on Bravo and they'll repeat it again, so nobody tell me.

However, if Ice doesn't win, the fix is in.

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Last Updated Wed 22 June 17:34:09 2005