Last time I saw the show it was a bit lower on broadway, somewhere in the theater district. It was a birthday present... last year. It was not quite as funny as when I saw it from really far away from the really cheap seats in a small theater on 43rd street. This time it was all close up and on television and much closer than I wanted to be. And in the beautiful beacon theater on 74th street. I used to live on 73rd street, just around the corner. Sexaholix was funny, what amazes me though is the perfection, the precision with which such a show happens. Everything was exactly the same as it was when I saw it in person. No new jokes, no new inventions or additions, no substractions or shortcuts. Everything timed perfecty, exactly the same. Except that the guy and his girlfriend are not together anymore and that he is probably much bigger now...(financially, for sure, no?) how many shows has it been since last year December?, and now the bigger theater. Now this is success. I guess. How does it feel for him, telling all these love stories again and again, even though the truth is moving farther and farther away from him. I could imagine that he enters a tunnel at the beginning of the performance and just rides that train, until he comes out the other end, with the audience standing up for another ovation, the moment better than anything ever, for a stage performer. It is like this quote at the beginning of Trainspotting, I bet... and I am not going to say what it is, as this blog is blocked on many browsers already and probably can not be viewed in any American library. If not now, soon.
What happened today?, where was I?... let me think... just a second.