Saturday Night's All Right

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This morning saw me at Circus Flora's excellent, enchanting production (and I mean "enchanting" in the most chest-thumping, grunting, heterosexual of ways) under the big tent in Ansonborough Field, where I mostly marvelled at the performances from the animals in the show, many of whom seemed smarter than a lot of people I know. There was also a live band who sounded suspiciously

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like Yanni, a passel of rubber-boned gymnasts who leapt about the stage, on and off a quartet of horses, among a series of outrageously high swinging rings and ropes, across a highwire, and, of course, each other -- and when I wasn't clapping or mopping my face, all I could think of was, Good Christ, what do these people pay in life insurance premiums? The inside of the tent was a swamp, and one suffering matron of a patron succumbed to the heat as we were all walking out for intermission. Unfortunately, she fell without a net.

At the moment, I'm off to catch Tristan & Yseult, then to what remains of the Reggae Block Party and Redux's Animal Time exhibit opening. I'll be in the recording studio with very funny New York sketch comedy outfit Elephant Larry tomorrow morning, so check back for that podcast sometime tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, bring a fan with you everywhere. (The kind you wave at yourself, not the kind that waves at you. Unless they happen to come in one handy unit.)

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