Icarus

There are times when, like Icarus, the soul can soar above reality, and my trips to New York are always among those times. I find the power of the theater...and especially musical theater...to lift me out of myself and carry me beyond reality to the euphoric.

And so we pick up the tale of my most recent journey at the halfway point.

My friend Gary had to return to Chicago on Wednesday in order to attend another opera, leaving me to my own devices for the next three days. The first thing I did after he left was to run back to the Longacre Theater for a ticket to see La Cage aux Folles a second time. I know, I had my choice of a more than a dozen other shows to see, but I'm like a little kid at a carnival. If I enjoy a particular ride, I want to get right back on it.

When I was acting in college productions, our drama teacher would tell us, before every performance: "Remember, you are real people doing real things for the first time." That actors and ensembles can do exactly that--convince the audience six or seven times a week that what they are seeing is fresh and unique is nothing short of amazing. The cast of La Cage was as vibrant as it had been the Sunday before, even though I was surprised and mildly shocked to see during the matinee that ninety percent of the balcony was empty. The performers deserved a full house! And once again, Douglas Hodge's rendition of "I Am What I Am" all but lifted the roof off the theater.

The problem with having a wonderful time is that it passes far too quickly. The days were filled with touristy-type things, including my first ride on the Staten Island Ferry (which in my country-bumpkin mode I was amazed to find was free!), meeting face-to-face for the first time and having dinner with fellow author Joe Albanese, and meeting a loyal reader of these blogs, John Bidwell, with whom I've corresponded for quite some time now. Interesting, intelligent people who added greatly to the overall pleasure of the trip.

I'd not been back to New York since making two separate trips in 1999 to see Swan Lake during it's initial New York run, and I ended both of those trips by seeing Swan Lake on my last evening. I determined to uphold the tradition and got a ticket for the Friday night performance.

It was the tenth time I'd seen it, and it might as easily have been the first. It is still the most powerful and moving stage production I have ever seen. And when, at the end of the standing-ovation curtain call, they announced that cast members would be in the lobby taking money for an AIDS project, I was able to get within two feet of one of the breathtakingly beautiful swans in full costume and makeup. I wanted to speak to him...to tell him how much the show meant to me, and how very, very lucky he was to be young and beautiful and part of such a glorious experience. But I am me, and I merely put money into the bucket he was carrying, smiled, accepted his "thank you," and moved on.

My return flight to Chicago left exactly on schedule, and it was (a toddler in the seat behind me being the exception) the quietest flight I can ever remember, giving me plenty of time to reflect on the preceding week. When we began our long descent into Midway, I had to listen to be able to hear the engines. It was like a long, soft sigh.

We landed exactly on time, had a few minutes delay waiting for a gate, and started unloading passengers at 6:18. "Your baggage will be arriving on Carousel 8," the flight attendant announced, then repeated, "Go to Carousel 8 for your baggage." I went to Carousel 8 for my baggage and after 45 minutes of waiting asked a guard why they had not gotten the baggage off Southwest Flight 3009 from LaGuardia. "Oh, that's on Carousel 4," he said. By the time I got there, steam coming from my ears, there was only one bag left on Carousel 4....mine. I made my way to the subway and got home at around 8:40. It was raining.

Reality had returned. Icarus had fallen.

New entries are posted by 10 a.m. Central time every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Please come back...and bring a friend. Your comments are always welcome. And you're invited to stop by my website at http://www.doriengrey.com, or drop me a note at doriengrey@gmail.com.