SON OF A GODDAMN BITCH! My heart is broken. Word on the street is that Ragtime, my beautiful Ragtime, is closing on January 3. This is so disappointing. But, God damn it, I am not letting this one get away. I said I was going to see it and I am. As soon as is earthly possible. It was supposed to be my Christmas present. I am not waiting until Christmas. As Coalhouse Walker said, I will not move from where I'm standing. And this is not over yet. A month to go? Fine. Absolutely goddamn wonderful. Let it be a month.
I'll be there at least once during this month. Make them hear you, right? Of course right. I will go see Ragtime, this show I love so much, and I will stand and scream and cheer and make them hear me. This show did not live long enough to gain a really loyal fan base. But there was a small one, at least. And I was one of them.
But here's the truth - there are worse things than this. Of course I'm very upset. I'm livid. I'm disillusioned. But still, there are worse things than this. All hope is not lost. I can still go see it. I'm sure you can infer by now that this revival means the world to me.
But what? In my ten-minute break that I took between paragraphs, I shot downstairs and got myself two tickets for next weekend. Like I said, I wasn't letting this one get by me. So, who's ready for a Ragtime blitzkrieg? I am, as you know, a mezzanine crawler. So my fourth row tickets are a rare treat. But that will not be all. In the weeks to come I will get to the Neil Simon as much as I possibly can. I don't care where I sit, cause this is freaking Ragtime. And since my birthday is conveniently three days after the purported closing, I'm thinking there is no other way I'd rather celebrate a new year and a birthday.
Well, so that's that. Ragtime is closing. Serves me right for being so awful about Birdie, I guess. Anyway, I'm still here, no one has died, and Obama is still president. Oh, Ragtime. I salute you. God be with you. I will miss you.