Life upon Broadway’s depraved stage revived Tuesday.
Tavern on the Green’s outdoor terrace — the place the slogan “I Love New York” was born — fed and entertained 180 individuals. Tables, drinks, waitstaff and meals for $40, $50, $60 and $90 — relying on your pockets.
Deciding Broadway wanted a rebirth, showman Tony Marion first known as Tavern’s Jim Caiola, then did his factor on social media, digital ticketing and sound and lighting designers.
Me: What if it rained?
Tony: “We’d reschedule.”
The evening starred Ariana DeBose who was Donna Summer on Broadway and will probably be Anita in Steven Spielberg’s rejuiced “West Side Story.” That play — starring Rita Moreno — received born onstage in ’57, turned a movie in 1961 and now these Sharks and Jets with Ansel Elgort and DeBose reopen in a reopened film home Dec. 10.
From the e book “Super Pumped: The Battle for Uber,” all about this Uber-ride’s experience, comes the collection, “Super Pumped.” Joseph Gordon-Levitt performs the finally dumped founder … Fifty years after premiering, the Waltons are schlepping again to TV. It’s “The Waltons: Homecoming” with Richard Thomas, who starred as John-Boy, narrating . . . Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner, of “War of the Roses,” reunited on “The Kominsky Method.” Turner had a cameo in Season 2 and can star in the upcoming Season 3.
He may run our city
“Our Town,” a longtime well-loved Upper East Side weekly, was began by very good smartmouth Ed Kayatt. Lawyer Arlene Kayatt, who was his spouse, nonetheless writes a biweekly column about our city. This is now the paper’s fiftieth anniversary. Among those that started his starting at “Our Town” is one now working to be mayor of our city — Curtis Sliwa.
Memorial Day weekend. A lone unhealthy factor is coping with certainly one of the worst phrases in the English language: houseguest. I don’t do the Hamptons. I as soon as had a spot there. Forget it. I made the mistake of inviting a pair who thought weekends meant 12 days.
We had Postum, Ovaltine, tea, buttermilk, chocolate milk, half-and-half, Turkish espresso, Italian demitasse, Chock full o’Nuts, Maxwell House. He needed Sanka.
The pillow we gave the husband got here from this “My Pillow” man who’s hustling on each TV station besides a cable outlet in Australia. Like, who cares what a kangaroo sleeps on? But this houseguest needed solely a rubber pillow. Rubber. That’s like laying your head in a potty.
We took him to the ocean, he needed a pool. Put him in a automotive, he needed a motorbike. Sun? He prefers shade. Dinner was steak. He’s vegan. We poured wine. He drinks vermouth.
People who don’t curse ought to by no means even mouth that four-letter phrase “houseguest.”
One Memorial Day out east was so crowded that on its cockamamie one-lane street you can attain Amagansett provided that you have been born there. For a 10-minute breakfast at the Hampton Inn in Hampton Bays, one yenta waited 40 minutes. A waitress lastly led this 35-ish girl to a desk with: “You won’t like it here. This place is for young people.”
I by no means need one other nation home. I don’t do ants, caterpillars or houseguests. But I take part loving the idea of Memorial Day. Patriotic songs corresponding to “God Bless America,” “Grand Old Flag” and “America the Beautiful.” It makes you hark again to the glory days after we all pulled collectively as a substitute of aside. It made you proud to be an American.
Sylvia: “I hear you’re not going to Paris this summer.”
Rhoda: “No. That was last year. This year we’re not going to Rome.”
Sylvia: “Vacationing locally, one thing you’ll learn is that the clean restrooms are always locked.”
Only in New York, youngsters, solely in New York.