Much ado about doo doo

Ed called me this morning and asked if I wanted to see Shakespeare in the Park. I had 20 minutes to arrive at the Public Theater. His sister had arrived a half hour before. She told him there were 100 people in front of her and some 30 behind. When I arrived, Ed told me that I couldn't take tickets. That if people joined you in line to get tickets, you had to move to the back. I assured those around us that I was lending moral support. And so we waited.

A man came by counting tickets. He pointed to the girl behind us and told the rest of the line that there was a 99.44% chance that they would not get tickets. The line started moving. We shuffled our way to the front. When we arrived at the front, a man handed us tickets from a short stack.

From there Ed and I went to the Asia Society to view half of an exhibit of photography and video work from China. The other half is at the International Center of Photography. The exhibit is contained in one room at the Society. Photographers take center stage, while a room off to the side shows video works. I was surprised to recognize some of the work from a show in Chelsea that I attended with Jean a year or two ago.

I had to race home after viewing the exhibit. I spent the weekend watching two cats and a dog, which greatly defined my actions of the past few days. Lynda had called Thursday looking for someone to watch her cats, and my neighbor had asked me on Wednesday if I would be available to watch her dog. I had to feed the cats and walk the dog and leave the apartment keys with Hiroko so that Lynda could come by to pick up her cats that evening. I'm never watching a dog again; it's too much work. For the most part, the cats seem able to fend for themselves. And they use the toilet, which makes cleanup that much easier. If only they didn't shed.

The play was ok. The acting was hit and miss; the play itself dragged in the second act. As Ed commented, once you know that the entire play is a ruse, there's very little to recommend the second act.

On the way home, kids sold candy bars in the subway. They seemed to be selling them for themselves rather than for a school, but they were up front about it. I missed their announcements due to train noise. At one stop a man got on and welcomed us to his club before snapping his fingers and singing an upbeat version of "Ain't no sunshine when she's gone," before passing around a paper bag. As it filled with money, he beamed to the crowd and said, "Don't you all wish you had a bag like this?" Posted by eku at July 26, 2004 1:37 AM