Snapshots With Guy

— Guy had said, “I’m on the corner of Ashland and Magnolia.” So I had my cab driver (who appeared to fall deeply in love with me during the course of our 15 minute ride) drop me off on that corner. It was a quiet residential street. Big beautiful houses with porches (Kate: “and PORCHES…”) and lawns and flowers … cars parked in the streets … quiet. I looked for the house number. Uhm … the house number was nowhere to be seen. The cab driver (who, as I mentioned, was now deeply in love with me) left the car idling, watching me wander around the suburban streets like an urban orphan. I finally waved him away, because I could not deal with the strength of his emotions for me, it was way too much pressure. But … there I was … on a random street … uhm … I felt like screaming out into the quiet: ‘GUY????” and see what would happen. Turns out Guy had given me the wrong cross street (he called me) and I had to walk one block down. He was standing out in front of his house … I could see him … we were the only two people out. He was like, “What is my problem? I totally gave you the wrong street. I’m an ass.”

— Guy and Sean’s dog, Cleo, appeared to fall deeply in love with me. (Maybe it was something in the air that day?) Cleo sat at my feet, back turned to me, as though to say, “Whatever. I am totally NOT madly in love with you right now. I’ve got a LIFE, lady.” But then I would catch her glancing back at me over her shoulder, in a kind of passive-aggressive way. Just to make sure I wasn’t going anywhere. Her behavior was so clear. It was so CUTE. She would also jump up on the couch right next to me, and stare at me at point-blank range. For no apparent reason. Just to suck the soul out of my body or something.

— Guy made gimlets. We ordered Chinese food. Delectable on both counts.

— Guy is about to go on tour with Sweet Charity and he has the male lead opposite freakin’ Molly Ringwald. Please. He gets to kiss Molly Ringwald, and that is pretty much all that needs to be SAID!!So if Sweet Charity comes to your town (I think the tour is starting in San Diego) go check it out!! Guy is amazing.

— I introduced Guy to “He’s a gay dancer boy” – the joke that Mitchell, Jackie and I have had for … oh … 15 years?? I can’t even remember the genesis of that joke, but we have kept it going for many many many years. The song goes like this: I would sing: “He’s a gay dancer boy” and Mitchell and Jackie would sing, as a chorus, “Yeah, he’s gay!” And we would repeat ad nauseum. Exeunt. The song has no point. It has no point to make about life, it draws no conclusions. It basically just DESCRIBES something, and then stops right there.

“He’s a gay dancer boy–”
“Yeah, he’s ga-ay!”
“Oh, hee’s a gay dancer boy –”
“Uh-yeah he’s ga-ay-ay …”

Guys. Shut up.

— Guy did his character known as “MGM Baritone”. It has to be seen to be believed. I actually find it rather terrifying – he was singing “Ol’ Man River” as MGM Baritone dude – and he came to the part: “Get a little drunk and land in jaaaaaaaail …” I watched him sing it … with all the crazy facial contortions (Guy actually left me a phone message about a year ago – AS the MGM Baritone – I could hear Kate laughing HYSTERICALLY in the background … Guy sang into my phone until the message cut him off. It is one of the funniest messages I have ever received.) But anyway, he sang – in that bullshit MGM Baritone way, “Get a little drunk and ya land in jaaaaaaaaaaaail….” His face was DEAD as he sang those words. It was somehow really terrifying to me. And I shouted at him, “THERE’S NO INNER LIFE! THERE’S NO INNER LIFE!” Please, MGM baritone, get an inner life. FAST. Do you have any FEELINGS about getting a little drunk and landing in jail? Or are you just DEAD inside? Apparently, whenever Guy becomes MGM Baritone now, Sean and Tim have to get up and leave the room, they are so sick of him. hahahahahahahaha

— We drunk-dialed Kate. Who is pregnant. Nothing like being pregnant and having your friends drunk-dial you. We put her on speaker phone. Guy did MGM Baritone. Kate howled. I’m sure Tim got up and left the room on the other end, like: Oh for God’s SAKE, MGM Baritone dude again?? hahahahaha Somehow I brought up our “Even for da babies?” joke – which I then had to describe to Guy. General hilarity ensued. “YOU GOT DA LION KING DOWN THERE??” Kate and Mitchell dancing at Berlin, singing, “Even for da babies – go girl, go girl …Oh – EVEN FOR DA BABIES – go go go girl … ”

— We missed Kate and Tim. We missed Sean, too – who is now on tour with Mamma Mia. Guy and I talked a lot about relationships. He and Sean have been together for 9 years. They’re an amazing couple. When you’re with them, you get that feeling of warmth and love and friendship and compatability so that not only do you think, “Wow, you two are so lucky” … you yourself feel lucky to know them. That’s what it’s like. So Guy and Sean are now both on year-long tours – they have split up their home – one dog is going on tour with Guy – one dog is on tour with Sean – and it’s stressful and hard to be apart – but great opportunities for both of them. Much talk about all of this. It was great.

— Oh – and then we watched Blast From the Past – which Guy had never seen. Obviously I have seen it. Ahem. Every time I see it, Christopher Walken seems funnier and funnier to me. “The Politburo …” his whispering voice, his hatred 6 feet back in his eyes. He’s so CAMPY. I love Walken for his campiness. Guy loved, too, seeing Sissy Spacek get to be funny. Drinking her martinis, and slowly losing her mind. And every time I get to the part where Brendan Fraser sees the ocean for the first time, I get goosebumps.

— Then we started to watch The Celluloid Closet and we both passed out on the couch. I think we might have even passed out simultaneously.

— I woke up on Sunday at 7 am. Guy had gone off to bed – obviously he had woken up at some point – He left me sheets and a pillow – but – uhm – I slept all the way through the night. Fully clothed, including my bra – which – ICK. I hate sleeping with that contraption on. But the gimlets got the best of me. I woke up with no hangover at all, though. Maybe because we drank water all along with our gimlets??

— Morning quiet. I was the first one up. I could not find any coffee. This was … I can’t even talk about it. It was so awful. I had to settle for tea. I am such a drug addict. I sat outside with my tea (BAH) and my book (a Georgette Heyer romance, if you MUST know) … I wrote in my journal. It was early morning. Dew dripping off the grass and all that stuff. Beauty!!

— Guy eventually woke up and with him came Cleo. Whose love for me only had grown stronger during the intervening separation of nighttime. Oh – and Guy found coffee. I had already basically SCOURED the kitchen … but I had NOT looked in one of the green china canisters over by the sink. So Guy made a pot of coffee. At the first sip I started to feel like a HUMAN BEING again. Seriously – this addiction is hard-core.

— Guy and I then watched some stuff on YouTube. We watched Judy Garland sing “As Long As He Needs Me”. We marveled at her. We talked about her. Her naturalness – the way she suddenly and compulsively hugged herself at the end of the song – nothing is calculated, nothing looks planned. It’s larger than life – and it’s almost too raw sometimes to look at – her gestures are spastic … yet … they are never EVER manipulated by her. She’s extraordinary to watch. Guy said a really great thing: “Every single song she sings – it’s like she is going to die the second AFTER she finishes the song.” Every song has that intensity – that in-the-moment rawness – that desperation to connect … Life or death. It’s life or death for her. Always.

— Then we tracked down the classic Grover “skit” from Sesame Street – Grover Near and Far. We HOWLED watching it. His little skinny blue furry body running back into the distance, with his arms flapping, his breath coming in pants … “Neeeeeeeeear …” run run run back until he is very small – then Grover SCREAMS, throwing his head back to the sky, “FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR” – etc.

— We also found the famous opera-singing orange. Guy had not thought of this in – YEARS – so we watched it, and laughed so hard we cried.

— We sat in the kitchen and became completely mesmerized – as in: we could not move – by the ongoing cross-fading slideshow of pictures on his Mac. Sean had uploaded, uhm, 5,000 photos? And they were in constant rotation. Sean’s a wonderful photographer. Guy and I just sat there staring, occasionally commenting – Guy would point out people either I knew or didn’t know – telling me where this photo was, where that one was – there were photos of Guy and Sean at the Grand Canyon, Guy and Sean wearing sombreros, Guy and Sean in Sedona, Guy and Sean in Florence, Guy and Sean on the Great Wall of China, Guy and Sean swimming through the oceans of Venus, Guy and Sean catapulting up into space, Guy and Sean tesseracting into another dimension … The guys have been everywhere. I also saw photos of Kate and Tim’s wedding (uhm – which we all were IN) – and I don’t think I’d seen ANY photos before! Kate – have I?? They were gorgeous photos. Classic. Absolutely glowing. It was great to reminisce about it. How amazing it was.

— Eventually, it was time to end our sleepover. We got in the car and headed for Newark – where Guy would drop me off at the Amtrak station. The second we hit Newark – we got lost. We lost track of the signs pointing the way to Penn Station. There were purple signs – with arrows – telling us: Penn Station. Or Federal Buildings. Or Historic Sites, or whatever. Those sorts of landmark signs were all PURPLE. We drove on Broad Street (which lives up to its name – sheesh – it’s like a boulevard in a crumbling ex-Soviet state – miles across). But anyway – we were doing fine – following the purple signs – but then suddenly: no more purple signs. We were desperate for a glimpse of purple. “Where are those purple signs?” This, naturally, became a song. Sung to the tune of “Purple Rain”.

“Purple signs
Purple signs
I want you to come with me and we’ll follow purple signs
Purple signs
Purple signs
Let’s keep moving forward and go to the purple signs …”

Etc. We kind of couldn’t stop singing “Purple Signs”. Even though we were lost in Newark.

I still can’t stop singing it.

“Purple signs
Purple signs
Let’s drive on down ol’ Broad Street moving to the purple signs …”

Finally: we got a glimpse of purple. We took a wrong turn. We saw a terrifying tavern. We backed up. We backtracked.

We kept singing:

“Purple signs
Purple signs
Don’t keep directions from me, please don’t leave me, purple signs …”

We saw some more purple signs. And next thing you know I was on my way home.

A beautiful weekend with Guy. I feel refreshed.

And remember: keep your eyes peeled for Sweet Charity the tour! Guy will be singing and dancing his way into towns across America with Molly Ringwald on his arm for the next year!

“Purple signs
Purple signs
Good weekend, gimlets, Guy and Cleo, and those purple signs …”