But isn't this the Baldwin that used to be really hot?



Billy Baldwin--the hot one, right?

Yeah, not so much anymore.  I mean, check out the paunch!

(Which reminds, I better hit the gym soon.  But first, more Chardonnay.)

In this interview, Stephen Colbert discusses Carl Wilson's book Let's Talk About Love: A Journey to the End of Taste.  While the title of the book may seem a little negative as regards Celine, the book, it turns out, is actually quite measured and objective.  Of course, in the interview, Colbert is as eloquent and biting as ever, whereas Wilson looks like he just a did some meth in the green room to calm his nerves, and it didn't work.

To settle it, I think Colbert should have Celine on his show so that she can explain the mystery of her greatness.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Carl Wilson
comedycentral.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor NASA Name Contest

With the revival of Speed-the-Plow by Pulitzer-Prize winning playwright David Mamet about to hit the boards of the Barrymore Theater 20 years after its original Broadway production, I thought you might be interested to learn (or be reminded of) who originated the role of the ambitious secretary Karen in the play those oh-so-many moons ago.




Also, I'm not sure which is scarier--Leeza Gibbons's 1988 hair or Jennifer Beals's 1988 glasses.

Oh.... my .... God.

I just found out that the CBC (the "Canadian Broadcasting Corporation" for those non-Canadians out there) produced an unauthorized bio-pic about Céline Dion's life last year.  Here is the trailer:



I don't even know where to begin.

Watching this film is even more cringe-inducing than watching the real Céline Dion (which I sincerely did not think was possible). Seeing Enrico Colantoni (star of the NBC series "Just Shoot Me" and a graduate of the Yale Drama School, no less) playing René, Céline's grandfather-like manager/husband, made me feel sorry for the world.  And the woman playing Céline looks like her delicate, slightly prettier second-cousin. If that cousin were from Lebanon. (Not even close, people.)

I have already started growing my hair out so that I can play Céline's son, René-Charles, in the sequel. 

Yesterday, like most Sundays, I went to my Beginner's Jazz Dance class at the Broadway Dance Center because, in a nut shell, I like to keep it "butch."


(The guy on the right is not me.  Although he's close.)

So, anyway, after my class, I've developed this sort of routine where I go straight to the Juice Generation on 9th Avenue, just north of West 45th, where I have a "Protein Buzz" shake with raspberries and an "Antioxidant" boost.  (How's that for healthy?) 

Now, in case you're not familiar with it (and you should be!), Juice Generation is kind of like an independent, mom-and-pop version of Jamba Juice, except much smaller and grittier.  (The entire store is about 16 square feet, and it smells a lot like wheat grass.)


(This is not the Juice Generation on 9th and 45th.  But it's similar.)

Anyhoo, I went about my little routine yesterday, as I do most Sundays, except this time, just as I was leaving the Juice Generation with my shake in hand, who should I see entering the 16-square-foot space, but none other than Frasier alumnus and Broadway divo, Mr. David Hyde Pierce!


(DHP headshot, circa 1987.)

Now, this is not as huge and cosmic a coincidence as it may appear at first glance.  As much as I like to think there is such a thing as serendipity and fate, one can help these things along.  And I did so, in this case, by sticking to the same routine every Sunday. 

You see, DHP is currently starring as Lieutenant Frank Cioffi in what is (as far as I am concerned) an instant Broadway classic--Curtains, a fine show and, sadly, one of the final collaborations of the legendary musical theater writing team of Kander and Ebb.


"There's a special kind of people known as...  Show People!"

Now, it just so happens that Curtains is playing at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre, on West 45th Street between 8th and 9th Avenues--basically around the corner from Juice Generation (and literally next door to my dance school).  In fact, it's so close that I had already seen two other members of the cast in recent weeks, not to mention tons of stage crew, either at the Juice Generation or on my 1-minute stroll back to the subway on 8th Avenue after class. 

As it turns out, my dance class happens to let out just as everyone in the show is arriving for their Sunday matinée.  This obviously heightens, to a significant degree, the probability of bumping into a cast member of Curtains on any given Sunday, as they say, including Mr. Pierce, who is himself a member of that cast.

Nevertheless, I was pretty excited about the fact that I found myself buying a protein shake in the same little joint, and at the very same time, as a bona fide star of Broadway!  (Not to mention TV and movies.  Remember his supporting roles in Down With Love and Nixon?  'Nuff said.) 

So I couldn't resist.  I looked right at him and I said, "You know, I think I've seen just about every member of the cast of Curtains come in here at some point!"  He smiled and said, "Well, we do have to fortify ourselves!"  That's when I noticed he was wearing a blue denim jacket with a little Curtains logo on the front and a humongous Curtains logo on the back.    So I said, "You know, I really loved the show.  I even have the song Show People downloaded to my MP3 player, and I listen to it whenever I need to get motivated."

(Now, just as background, if you're not familiar with the show--and you should be!--the song Show People is a big show-stopper in which the entire ensemble, dressed to the nines, gets into line formation, while dancing and belting out a musical homage to the world of show business and, more specifically, to the sheer awesomeness of living the life of a performer.  Ahhh!  I get chills every time I hear it.  AND it's funny!  So suck it, Ben Brantley.) 


Actual photo of Ben Brantley, New York Times theater critic and professional spreader-of-darkness.

Anyway, there I was, just letting DHP know that I often listened to the music from his show to get inspired, and that's when he made my day.  He said, "Oh really?  Are you in one of the shows, then?"

Beg your pardon?  Was he asking if I was in one of the shows--one of the Broadway shows?  Was he asking if... I was a Broadway actor?  It took me a moment to process what he meant by that question...  And I finally realized, yes, YES!  David Hyde Pierce was asking me if I was in a Broadway show! 

Holy crap.

I was speechless.  And my heart was beating so hard, I thought it might explode.

After what seemed like ages, I finally managed to pull myself together, and I mumbled, "Well, uhm, no... not yet!  But I'm trying!" 

He smiled and wished me luck, and I wished him a broken leg for that day's matinée. 

And with that, I dashed out the door with a Raspberry-Protein-Buzzed shake in my hand, and a major buzz in my head.  (And it wasn't the antioxidants!)

Just another example of why I can't seem to give up my addiction to this crazy town we call New York.

Elizabeth: "Excuse me, miss, but I believe the other stewardess forgot my carry-on bag."
Carla: "Je m'excuse, your Majesty, but I am not a stewardess.  I am the First Lady of France."
Elizabeth: "Oh, I see.  Well, could you fetch my carry-on bag anyway?"

In this third, and final, installment, Darren and I present Fisherman's Wharf and Alcatraz prison (as well as demonstrate the importance of knowing at least a little actual information about the landmarks that you are supposed to be presenting).

The San Francisco adventure continues in this video log.  Darren and I got brunch in the Castro, but we could not have prepared ourselves for what was in store.  I'll let the video speak for itself.  Enjoy.

Last weekend, I visited San Francisco for the first time.  I flew out to L.A. on a Thursday night, where I met up with Darren (a boy from out there I'm seeing), and the next morning, we drove up the 101 from L.A. in his New Beetle convertible (nice!) to spend the weekend in San Fran.  

It was a LOOOONG drive, but worth it in the end.  It was my first time in Central California, and it was just gorgeous.  We stopped for lunch in Wine Country, in a little town called Solvang, which is Danish for "Forest Hills, Queens, But Cuter, and with Mountains."


Darren and me, in front of a Danish bakery in Solvang, California.  (Great coffee, Solvang!)


Look at those mountains!  (But what's with me and the coffee?)

We finally got to San Francisco late Friday night.  We had dinner in the Castro (aka, "Gayville") and didn't really start exploring the city until the next morning.  But, oh, what a city it is--really steep hills, with a lot of Victorian-style, low-rise (or as I like to put it, non-"sky-rise") buildings, and evidently, very, very cold, damp weather in February, as you will see from this video log.  (You will also see that, for some reason, I styled my hair that day like Gordon Gekko in the movie "Wall Street.")

For those of you who think I made up or might have exaggerated the whole inappropriate "soul sister" thing that Celine does, check out this video.  She actually turns to Sherri Shepherd (the young black woman on The View) at 1:08 and sings "Ooh-woo, girlfriend!"  Then, at 7:01, in response to a question from Whoopi Goldberg (the older black woman on The View), Celine prefaces her answer by saying, "Well, listen, girl!"  

I'm cringing.  Big time, girlfriend.