The Best of Times

is now. What's left of summer but a faded rose? The best of times is now. As for tomorrow, well, who knows?

Sorry. I've yet to stop singing that song since I soft-shoed my way out of the balcony at the Longacre last night after an impromptu visit to my favorite gay cabaret. The show is fun. Glitzy, glittering fun. I'm sorry I didn't have Lenora with me, but I still enjoyed myself. It's a great show. Better than Ragtime? No. Nothing I've ever seen has been better than Ragtime. But still good. Douglas Hodge is wonderful. VEANNE COX. Yay Caroline, or Change. I stood up for her at curtain call and I am not ashamed to admit that. And I sang along and danced and twirled. I was not ashamed. I was happy and sorry for everyone that was not. Every Republican needs to see La Cage. Albin summed it up for me, "Be NICE." What a hypocrite I am.

I've never heard an audience laugh quite so hard. Lots of screams and shrieks of surprise of surprise that made me wonder if Karen Weston was sitting in the mezzanine. I think I'll always remember when Georges and Albin kissed at the end and the audience went crazy for them. I thought that was really something special. Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, Fred Phelps, Pat Robertson - drop what you are doing and go see La Cage. Learn something. Laugh at yourselves at little. Everyone else is.

I also saw American Idiot yesterday afternoon. I am terrified of St. Jimmy. I will never not be terrified of St. Jimmy.