one sexy motherfucker
date night in denver
Last night the SO and I went out on an actual date. It was a nice change from hanging out with the gang and just goofing off. If you're in one of them living together arrangements, I highly reccomend it. Nice way to break up the workaday monotony.
The date brought me to give a couple "reviews"...
As any of your "standard" dates goes, we started out with a diner at the Aubergine Cafe. If you are EVER in Denver, I highly suggesting calling about a week ahead of time and get yourself a reservation, and then plan on showing up, because the're giong to call you and confirm that day.
The food was excellent and the service outstanding (I've never had a waiter say things like "very good, sir" and "excellent" to me before - I think it has to do with the fact that I look like a little kid).
We had the Antipasto plate for an appetizer, then sat there feeling almost completely full - blame the homemade bread on this one. The main course was linguine with clams, which was teh first time I've even had anything with lemon peel in it that wasn't either gross or tasted like it didn't have any peel in it at all. The SO had a pasta/salmon steak thing that was just unreal.
The other thing I HAD to mention was the fact that we went early - around 4.30 - and it was the wierdiest thing, eating with the "early crowd". Mostly old folks. You could tell they had stuff to do after this and there was no tomfooleery to be had, just get me my food so I can get on with my life.
After dinner we went to the Denver Performing Arts Center and saw Sylvia (written by A.R. Gurney), possibly one of the funniest plays I've ever seen.
Being a lazy bastard, I haven't gone to look up the background of the show, but I think it world premiered here in Denver before moving off to greener pastures. Lucky for us, it came back.
If you've never heard about it, the basic story is about a middle-aged guy and his newfound mutt of a dog. His wife, however isn't what you would call thrilled with the whole new dog concept. From there you get to see one of the funniest and most touching insights into the classic "male menpoause" theme around, mixed in with a pretty damn accurate portrayal of what you KNOW your pooch is thinking about the events in its life.
How do you know this? The dog talks - duh. Sylvia was played by a perky (sorry, my fumbling grasp on the language can't find a better word) Stephanie Cozart, who must have spent a few weeks down at the local animal shelter just watching the pups mill around - she hit it perfectly.
No, she doesn't crawl around on her hands and knees the whole show (that would be too hokey), and she doesn't use one of them stupid "Rastro Retson" voices (which I will NEVER forgive Hanna Barberra for), but after a few minutes you completely believe shes a dawg. I'm sure you can imagine the obvious jokes that bloom from having a person playing a dog and I won't give them away (except for my personal favorite scene; I gotta admit I'd have never thought of a dog calling a cat a "little cocksucker").
Other than the three main characters, the cast was rounded out buy character actor Jamie Horton, who accomplished the task of playing three other characters, one of which a Pythonesque bosses wife. The audience was laughing so hard the scene ran about twice as long as it did in rehearsals, I'm sure.
The basic jist of all this blather is: If you catch word that this show is playing in your town - turn off the TV, go get tix, and SEE IT. Even for you that live in smaller towns - you'll get your chance; the show is small enough that a really talented community theatre could pull it off easily.
Melty just wrote a rant that should be in the hall of fame.
Bugg needs a hug.
You wanna see art in design? Check out the Fray.
Bill wrote me a haiku in response to my guestbook entry:
slappy, a kind manI'm not ("not that there's anything wrong with that..."), he's not, but it was still nice to get.
12 Sep 98
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