So, I'm a Broadway nerd.
It's embarassing but true.
I mean, my pays-the-bills job is musical theater.
I'm like, a full fledged homo.
This past summer, my mother took me to New York to see, among other shows, Grey Gardens and I (we) cried for weeks.
I sobbed through the entire second act.
Grey Gardens, you guys.
And by you guys, I mean, you gays.
My folks are moving to the Village (Greenwich) for a bit, subletting a celeb's apartment (I'm not allowed to tell who) for 4 months to live out Mom's dream of being...well, Woody Allen.
Anyway, the last time mom and I were together in "her town", we saw Grey Gardens. If you ask either of us to discuss, we'll cry. Beware.
And SO moved was I by that performance, I planned to contact Chirstine Ebersole and woo her into friendship via drinks and gushing.
Um, turns out, she's a right wing extremist!
Are you kidding me? You're one step away from Liza. You're pulling this shit now?
Nooooooo, Mrs. Rich!
Fuck. Who the hell am I supposed to befriend now?