What brings sunshine to my snowy mornings

I know, I know, I know. It's been a week since the inaugural festivities and I owe everyone some inaugural ball updates. It is my sincere hope that that gets done before I bust this joint and leave on a jet plane this weekend.

In the meantime, however, I wanted to share a little ex parte communication I received this morning in my Facebook inbox that I brought a smile to my tired and worn face. (Ex parte, for those of you who don't watch as much Law & Order as I do, occurs when a lawyer takes a motion to the judge without the presence of the other party.)

The electronic audition notice for Full Monty went out a few days ago to the e-mail listserv to everyone and their mom in Baltimore theatre belongs. Since my name was listed as part of the production staff, I wouldn't have been surprised to get a note or two giving me a heads up that certain people would be coming to the audition. I certainly was not expecting something to light up my life like this did, however.

By the by, all names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Subject: hello my favorite sexagenarian!

OK, so I'm going to audition for THE FULL MONTY, and saw your name as vocal director. That doubles the reasons I want to do it (Three main reasons, in no particular order: 1. to work with you again, 2. to work with [insert name of cool director here] again, 3. My lifelong dream to wear tearaway pants). Will you be at auditions? I gotta figure out what to sing....I always do terribly at... auditions.

Speaking of the audition....will we have to show the goods at the audition? I just want to know how much fluffing I will have to do in preparation. HAHAHAHAHA

I laughed so hard I cried. Just when I think I'm sick of theatre (and theatre people more especially), someone reaches out to me and reminds me that there's this group of people in the world with my exact same constitution and sense of humor.

Guess who's gonna be belle of the ball.

I had to go down to the District yesterday to pick up our Inaugural Ball tickets in person. We're going to the Eastern Ball at Union Station, which initially gave me mixed feelings. On one hand, I wanted to go to the Mid-Atlantic Ball so that we had the chance of bumping into someone... anyone from Maryland. Someone who might have some distant connection to someone else that we knew in a previous life. On the other hand, I was excited about the venue. While I have no doubt that they'll make the Convention Center as snazzy as they possibly can, Union Station just seems like such a cooler space in which to have a ball. Then Mama Downbeats texted me to inform me that the main act at said ball we're attending is none other than James Taylor, the Maestro's favorite. That sealed the deal. I'm officially electrified to be a part of the inaugural festivities tomorrow.

I picked up Metro tickets for tomorrow as well while I was down there in the event that we decided that the Metro was the easiest way to get from point A to point be once entering the DC metropolitan area. Even the non-commemorative version have Obama's face on them. Instant souvenir!

So at any rate, the time is nigh! 24 hours and I'll be on my way to being a part of history. I'll be documenting my day tomorrow with B, Baltimore's free daily. Hop on over to B the site tomorrow to check out their inauguration coverage. And, of course, I'll be doing a wrap up here over the next few days.

...a little pre-occupied

That's the only way to describe my state over the past few days. You see, Mama Downbeats loves her only child so very much that she called me on Monday and offered me and the Maestro tickets to the hottest party in town. That's right... the Maestro and I will be painting the District red, white, and blue with the Obamas and the Bidens and everyone else who's partying like it's January 20, 2009.

I wasn't planning on going anywhere close to D.C. at all next week. I told the production team I'm working with on my current project not to look for me at all next week because, well, Kensington was just too close to the inaugural festivities for me to even think about venturing there. Heck, Baltimore might be too close to the inaugural festivities, so I'm not even sure if I planned on leaving my house next week.

But then Mama Downbeats called me at work on Monday afternoon with the gift that keeps on giving: the opportunity to get fancy and possibly breathe the same air as our new President. So immediately all of those acrid thoughts I was thinking about D.C. next week flew out of my mind and I screamed YES, WE CAN [go down to Washington for an Inaugural Ball as long as we don't have to pay for it]. (Sorry, I couldn't resist)

At any rate, I have chosen a gown. I've asked the Maestro to wear tails. I've been Tweeting my progress and researching all of the possible methods to get down to that side of the world when they've closed all humankind off from any sort of ground transportation. I'll keep you all updated on how it goes.

And if anyone has any sort of insight as to how to get to the Convention Center on Tuesday night, please throw it my way.

Doing my part

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