Last train to Narberth

On my last day with Peter Pan, I went to Easter service with my mother. We left early (right after Communion) and my mother drove me to Wynnewood station to catch the 12:01. I got to the theater at 12:30 and met Stephen Purdy, my replacement, in the pit. I showed him how to boot up the equipment and we talked through the book. Then I played the last show, talking to him all the while. Ten minutes after the show ended, I ran out of the theater to catch the 4:45.

I hugged Anne goodbye and said, "I'm off."
"I could see that from Day One."

As I was walking out, she said, "We'll be seeing you again, no doubt."
"No doubt," I replied tiredly.

Anne said to the other Anne, "Notice how excited he is."

Cartoon world

Above a doorway on Walnut Street.

Surreal scene

Kids and their parents waiting outside the Academy of Music to see Peter Pan. Note the banner for the Dali show (which I never saw. I waited too long to order a ticket).

Eugene H. Stivers 1921-2004

At my father's memorial with my high school friends Tim (Chris), Richard, and Emily. Emily said I couldn't take this picture unless I promised to put it on the blog.

Another thing I don't recommend

When I used an ATM recently, I found someone else's card in the machine. I decided to keep the card and try to locate the owner. But I forgot all about it until Thursday night's performance. During the second intermission, I called information and got the phone number of a person with the same name as the one on the card. It turned out not to be the right guy, and as I was talking to him, Jennifer (who was sitting in the pit that night) said, "His hands are up!" Meaning the conductor. I quickly closed the phone and dropped my hands on the first chord of Act 3.

Pen and pencil set

This is the coat rack at the Pen and Pencil Club, the oldest press club in the country. It is for members only. After opening night, I went there with Bruce Schimmel, an old friend (and founder of the Philadelphia City Paper) who was the first editor to publish my cartoons. He just waved at the security monitor and they let him in.

Economy car wash

My rental car originally smelled as if a raccoon had smoked a pack of Camels before dying. I decided to air it out by leaving the windows open overnight. I woke the next morning to rain; I found little ponds collecting in the inside door handles. I brought out towels to dry it; after I got over my anxiety, I realized that the bad smell was gone. So I don't recommend this method, but it works.

A brief affair

It was a gorgeous spring day, and I fell in love with Philadelphia all over again. (We broke up the next day, when it was cold and rainy.)

My final resting place

Here I am sitting at Keyboard 3. I'm behind everyone else and the only musician under the stage. I'm further from the conductor than I've been before. I do, however, have an incredible view of all three balconies and the chandelier.

Music of the night

The Academy is like the European opera houses that inspired Phantom of the Opera. It's got the chandelier and the golden nudes holding up the ceiling.

Jack Benny come back to life

When I reminded Bruce that this was my last week, he said, "My God. We'll have to have a party, or a wake, or something." I said, "Sure. If you get a casket I'd be happy to lie down in it." "That's the best offer I've had all day."

Master of our domain

The basement of the Academy of Music has a hallways full of signed and framed celebrity photos. I saw Pavarotti, Peter Nero, Harry Connick Jr., and this one of Jerry Seinfeld.

Harp sister

Anne Sullivan our harpist in Philadelphia. As I always do, I asked her if she knew Mary Jane D'Arville of the Virginia Harp Center.

She sure does. Anne grew up in Havertown, right next to Lower Merion where Mary Jane and I lived and went to school. Beyond that, they went to harp camp in Maine together and became like sisters. "Tell Mary Jane I have another lobster story."

I remembered seeing Ellen de Pasquale (of the famous Philadelphia de Pasquales) playing with the Cleveland Orchestra. Charlie de Pasquale was in my class at Lower Merion and I asked Anne if she knew Ellen and whether she had gone to Lower Merion. "I know Ellen," said Anne. "I taught her at Curtis."

Anne is a killer harpist. (Or as they say in Boston, kill-ah.)

Suddenly, she's looking very attractive

Maxine, who you see bending over, brought in Why Men Love Bitches, a tongue-in-cheek book advising women how to become the kind of rock that men want to dash themselves against. After the show, when the rest of us were going to drink wine, Maxine begged off, saying she had another engagement. I said, "Well, you're certainly a party-pooper..." and then it occurred to me, "actually, you're a bitch!"

The old soft shoe

In the bus on the way to the Cleveland airport, the dancers discussed their days working for theme parks, including weather so hot that if they stopped dancing, their shoes would stick to the stage.

Center of the universe, part 2

The wireless internet signals in my Cleveland apartment were weak, but I could sometimes get a decent signal if I put my laptop on top of the refrigerator.

The heart of Cleveland Jazz

These are Steve and Terri, two of the local Peter Pan musicians in Cleveland. Terri, who plays violin, you'll remember from an earlier post --- she ran the Cleveland Jazz Festival for many years and just recently got asked to run the Detroit Jazz Festival. Steve plays trumpet and teaches at Tri-C College, which is a pretty ordinary community college except for the jazz program. It was the original home for the Cleveland Jazz Festival 25 years ago --- the festival was pretty humble at first but now hosts the biggest names and has a $1 million endowment.

Steve was telling about some of his Tri-C students who have had successful careers. One, a trumpet player I believe named Dominic, was playing along with Louis Armstrong records at the age of 11. At age fifteen, they took him to Wynton Marsalis, who was playing at the Cleveland festival. After hearing the kid play, Marsalis said, "You are going to be famous." Dominic got a full scholarship to Julliard, and at the age of 20 has a recording contract.

Gypsy life --- gypsy rules

After many of the shows, Craig, Bruce, and Howard go out for steaks and martinis. Some of these sessions go on for hours. One morning at 10 am, I called Bruce and asked him for a ride to the Cleveland Orchestra concert at 11. He said, "Please go without me. I just got in to my apartment, and I'm toast."

And the wine improves the sound

This is the top of my rack in Cleveland. Since I don't get Internet in my room, I always bring my laptop to the theater. I check email during breaks in the show.

Tower of shopping

The historic (train) Terminal Tower is the center of Tower City, which comprises shopping, cinemas, and the Post Office. This week, it also hosts the Cleveland International Film Festival.

Cost-cutting suggestion

I went to see the Cleveland Orchestra today play Also Sprach Zarathustra. I noticed that the organist hardly played at all. In fact, they could have combined the organ book with the two harp books into one synth book and saved a ton of money.

But no giant ball

This is the other side of the pseudo-Times Square in Cleveland. Right at the base of the building, under the word "possible", is the Starbucks where I have done a lot of my blogging in Cleveland. Off to the right, out of the picture, is the Hunan Renaissance.

The divine Teri

I've gotten dinner a couple of times at the Hunan Renaissance across the street from the theater. There is a pillar inside that has celebrity photos attached. Two of them show touring stars of Phantom, including Teri Bibb, who I've worked with at Music Circus on Secret Garden (Lily) and Wizard of Oz (Glinda). She is the woman with long hair wearing a blue jacket.

Problem solved!

This is the building's garbage chute. I love the sound of stuff going down nine stories. It's really convenient for disposing of difficult people, not that I would ever do that again. Be sure to use a high-quality butcher's knife, not a steak knife from the hotel kitchen. That took forever!

Low maintenance pet

In the Cleveland Museum of Natural History, this is the stuffed body of Balto, perhaps the most famous dog in history. He spearheaded a delivery of diptheria medicine to Nome, Alaska, in 1925, and inspired the Iditerod dog race. There is a statue of him in Central Park.

But no Naked Cowboy

Cleveland's Theater District tries to be like Times Square. It has tall buildings surrounding a square, animated signs, and even a ticket kiosk.