An interesting bit of news about New Yorkwas released yesterday. It seems that more than 50% of Manhattanites live alone; as in single, no spouse, no family. This doesn't surprise me considering that the housing stock in Manhattan is made up of more studio and one-bedroom apartments than anything else. But what I'm waiting for is some kind of acknowledgement that this is the case.
Soapbox please.
I have lived alone for the past 9 years. That's not to say I'm "single". I've been in committed relationships for most of that time. But that's the way we do things in Manhattan. No one wants to give up their apartment. It's a classically eccentric New York tradition. In one of the most famous examples, Woody Allen and Mia Farrow maintained separate apartments for years! Okay--maybe that's not the best illustration. The point is, this is nothing new to us, and yet, we single households are constantly discriminated against by society and in the media.
Coming off an election year, and still with the health care debate, all anyone cares about representing or protecting or benefiting is "families". As if these are the only people worthy of going to political bat for. Have you noticed? Listen carefully--no one ever talks about single people. It's "families, families, families." The message is loud and clear that the only acceptable choice in our society is to live as a family. This attitude, probably a result of a right-leaning socio-political trend driven by the religious right, even fuels the LGBT fight for marriage equality. We've gotten the message that in order to be legitimized by the mainstream, we have to imitate their lifestyle. I'm convinced it's the reason the fight for marriage equality is far more visible and passionate than ENDA. But shouldn't we make sure we're able to support our families by protecting our job security first? But I digress...
Manhattan was built for single people. Literally. Like I said, look at the housing stock. Now, the numbers even support that. And yet, New York continues this "family friendly", theme park approach to development and zoning that frankly most of us don't need, or, as in my case, want. I remember a friend who lived in Chelsea telling me that he and his partner wanted to get out because every new building going up was selling 3 and 4 bedroom apartments. "What comes with all those bedrooms? Kids!" There goes the neighborhood.
Now, don't get me wrong, I don't hate kids. On the contrary. I just don't want to raise yours and I don't want to live in a childproof world. I've made another choice. A legitimate, individual, American-as-apple-pie, free choice to live alone--just like the majority of Manhattanites. And there's nothing wrong with that. We're Americans, too.
Now, wish me luck on explaining this post to Scott who's moving in with me in a couple of weeks.
This week President Obama will sign a federal hate crimes bill into law. Hallelujah. 11 years after Matthew Shepherd's death, no one will ever be able to commit such a heinous act without being prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law as a hate crime. It's about time. But obviously we still have a long way to go to to educate people and eradicate homophobia. Sadly, I suspect, like racism, it will always be an element in our society and permeate the way people think and act toward gay people.
Yesterday, having read the news that Obama would sign the Matthew Shepherd Bill into law, I felt pretty good. I ventured out the door to buy a cup of coffee. As I stood waiting in line at the Dunkin' Donuts, my eyes fell on a stack of that day's New York Post. On the cover was Shane Victorino of the Philadelphia Phillies. His torso was photoshopped onto a woman's body wearing a cheer leading skirt. The caption read "Only in the City of Brotherly Love would Victorino be considered a slugger." Whack! Homophobia slaps you in the face. Way to stay classy, Post. Sure, it was a slam against Philadelphia as a second-rate city, but with strong homophobic overtones.
Just a few days ago Scott was saying to me "Remember those Scholastic Book orders from elementary school? You'd go home and ask you mom for money and then weeks later the books would arrive and you forgot all about them. It was so exciting. It was like getting a present." I have the same memories. Then Scott sent me this article that appeared in The Stranger. It seems the powers that be at Scholastic Books are exercising homophobic censorship. Go to the link to read the full story, but apparently they asked an author who featured a set of same-sex parents in her book to edit them out in favor of a heterosexual couple. Thankfully, she refused.
I had the opportunity to educate someone this weekend about homophobia, but I unfortunately I failed. I was hosting a garage sale out at my parent's house in New Jersey. A woman came by with a couple of kids, one of whom was in a Boy Scout uniform. He was about 12 or 13. He was selling Christmas wreaths to benefit the Boy Scouts. First he approached Scott who told the boy he didn't live there, and passed him off to me. I stalled passing him off to my mother as "the lady of the house". She didn't want to order any wreath from the Boy Scouts either, but gave the kid a small donation instead, mostly to spare us all any more awkward moments.
After that, the kid went to ring other doorbells on the block while his mother stayed behind and browsed among the Garage Sale items. Now, I didn't want to burst the kid's bubble by telling him I think the Boy Scouts are a bunch of homophobic bigots. But I did have the opportunity to say to his mother after he left "You know, I didn't want to order anything that would support the Scouts because they discriminate against people like me." I wanted to tell her that the only men I ever knew who made it to Eagle Scout are gay. I wanted to tell her that municipalities across the country (including the City of Brotherly Love) are doing the right thing and not allowing a discriminatory organization to hold meetings in municipal buildings. But I didn't. I thought she might buy something so I didn't want to offend her. I sold out my civil rights for a potential $5 garage sale transaction. Way to stay classy, Michael.
PS She didn't buy anything.
Please, do better than I did. Speak up when you have the opportunity.
UPDATES: The LAPD has cut tieswith a spin off group of the Boy Scouts as the group's discriminatory policy against LGBT youth and leaders is at odds with the city's non-discrimination policy as is the case in more and more cities and municipalities across the country. It's hard to be happy about it, though. Scouting could be such a wonderfully positive organization for boys. And it's the kids who lose in the name of "protecting" them.
Also, Scholastic Books has released a somewhat confusing statementregarding the Luv Ya Bunches controversy. They insist they do not censor, but rather "review" books for inclusion in their clubs and fairs. (The LGBT thing aside, isn't asking an author to clean up language a form of censorship?) Also, they say that Luv Ya Bunches eventually passed review for their middle school book fairs. This is an interesting distinction since the book is about 4 elementary school girls and according to Amazon.com, is recommended for a 9 to 12 year old reading level. Pre-middle school age.
Hugh Jackman has received a great deal of press over the last 24 hours for stopping a preview performance of his new Broadway play, A Steady Rain, while an audience member's cell phone rang for almost a full minute. I think reports of Mr. Jackman's reaction have been greatly exaggerated. (One report I heard said that Jackman "ripped into" the audience member in question.) Actually, I think he was fairly patient. You can watch the clip yourself.
This made me recall a similar episode during the penultimate performance of Patti Lupone's Gypsy, during which some hapless audience member dared to take a picture. Patti's response was deliciously Classic Lupone. Watch and listen.
As an actor, I admit, I feel a certain degree of satisfaction when I watch these clips having had to perform through picture-taking and cell phone ringing and some even more distracting behavior. However, I never stopped the show. I can't. I'm not a star. Really, the only actors who can get away with these sorts or responses are the ones whose names appear above the title.
In the case of Jackman and Lupone, both have worked hard to get where they are and, in my opinion, are deserving of their success. And whether it's fair or not, their celebrity and fame gives them a certain amount of leadership within a company of actors. But, for example, if the picture-taking had happened during "Little Lamb", the girl playing Louise would have been expected to just soldier on through the song. Every actor knows the oldest rule in show business is the show must go on.
As actors, part of our job is to have the technique and concentration to continue in the moment despite whatever distractions may happen in the audience. You owe it to everyone in the audience who is not behaving badly and the rest of the actors on stage who are working collaboratively to create the reality of the play. One actor deciding to abandon that collaboration is arguably more distracting than any cell phone ring or camera flash.
Also, in our "community" of the theatre, as Miss Lupone so eloquently puts it, we, onstage, know that there is a staff of ushers and a house manager out there whose job it is to deal with offending audience members. You can't see it in the Hugh Jackman clip, but I promise you, there was an exasperated House Manager or usher standing in the aisle, arms waving wildly, trying to communicate to the cell phone ringer to get the heck out of the theatre. Someone from the stage jumping in to do this job makes the entire episode more humiliating and disruptive than it really needs to be. Now, I admit, this is the ideal philosophy I'd like to adhere to in the best of all possible worlds, but...these reactions, though I don't condone them, are kinda fabulous in an "actor's ultimate revenge fantasy" sort of way.
The great irony here is, that while recording these reactions may not be distracting, it is illegal. Can you imagine what Patti would have done if she'd known?
After many requests (okay, mostly from my mother), I'm making an honest effort to get back to blogging. Blogging filled a creative void for me when I was unemployed and helped me stay sane through the grind of a survival job. So here I am again, unemployed--but with a Master's!
This is me on my graduation day with my proud parents. They gave us medals! (The school, not my parents.)
One of the reasons I didn't get back to blogging sooner is that in the year or so since I stopped, I joined Facebook. Yes. I finally gave in. Peer pressure from the kids at school--for real. After all, I didn't want to miss out on all the newsy updates from my exciting new friends like "Tom is eating yogurt" (not his real name) and "Amy is going to the gym" (also not her real name). I might miss something!
As a result, I can now only think in short, third-person, declarative sentences about the minutiae of my life. I'm constantly thinking things like "Michael is appalled at the price of Heirloom Tomatoes" and "Michael thinks the A train should stop at 96 St." It would make for very short blog posts. Luckily, I don't actually publish these things as my Facebook status either--though many people do. You know who you are--not that there's anything wrong with that. By the way, this is one of the reasons I will never, ever, join Twitter. Unless it was to write something like this. (NSFW: language)
So, my dear, vast readership, I will attempt to update you on my status with an entire paragraph in the first-person:
I graduated from The Shakespeare Theatre Company's Academy for Classical Acting at the George Washington University(try fitting that on a resume) in late July. It was one of the best years of my life. I worked really hard and loved every minute. I made wonderful friends and learned more than I ever thought possible. I highly recommend it (especially to you who ended up here by google searching MFA programs). I spent August in DC working on my final "not-a-thesis" paper which is due on Dec. 1. I'm in good shape with that--I've fought the Facebook sentence structure as much as possible. I moved back to NYC the first week in September and am living with Scott in his studio apartment. It's cozy. But that situation may change soon. I'll keep you posted. Right now I'm adjusting to life back in the city and trying to remember what it was like to be an actor here. I went on my first audition the other day. It went well, but it was a long shot. If anything happens, you'll know. Right now I feel a little like Rhoda Morganstern at the end of her opening credits: "New York, this is your last chance!" Cue hat-throwing.
As a New Yorker who sometimes keeps a car in the city, I am normally not in favor of anything taking up a parking space other than a car. Today, however, I have to make an exception. New York City is taking part in an international event called Park(ing) Day. (http://www.parkingdaynyc.org/)
The idea is to convert conventional parking spaces into engaging, people-friendly public spaces for one day a year. The aim is to spark discussion on the importance of parks and public space in normally auto-clogged cities like New York. Parking spaces all over New York have been transformed into art installations, exhibits, or performance spaces, like "Shakespeare in the Parking Space", which I made a special trip to see.
In a spot located on Columbus Avenue between 60th & 61st Streets, some Fordham University students set up a simple platform and a bench (all one really needs to perform Shakespeare) and treated passersby to sonnets, monologues, some contemporary poetry, songs and the inevitable "original rap". Some of the Shakespearean selections included Hermia and Helena from Midsummer (pictured below), Juliet Act 4, scene 2, a marvelous St. Crispen's Day speech from Henry V delivered with all the gusto only a college boy can muster, and even a female Hamlet.
Hard-boiled New Yorkers, normally too busy to even look up from their Blackberries, stopped to listen, laugh, applaud and take pictures, including a group of construction workers on their lunch hour (pictured below).
I must admit my word-nerd, classical theatre-loving heart was moved to see this earnest group of students performing Shakespeare as it was meant to be: in the open air for the masses. I doubt Shakespeare could have anticipated the noise from buses and ambulances whizzing by, however.
It's good to know that if I don't get any work after completing my MFA in classical acting, I can always high-jack a parking space to perform.
Manhattan Chowder is back in the Big Apple after a wonderful year in DC. (More on that in future posts.) In the meantime, I've been spending the last week or so I've been home falling back in love with New York. She has been putting on her freshest face for me with beautiful September weather (mostly). A walk through busy Riverside Park yesterday revealed this photo: City kids playing baseball as only they do--under the Westside Highway with Trump's Towers looming above.
An interesting bit of news about New York was released yesterday. It seems that more than 50% of Manhattanites live alone; as in single, no spouse, no family. This doesn't surprise me considering that the housing stock in Manhattan is made up of more studio and one-bedroom apartments than anything else. But what I'm waiting for is some kind of acknowledgement that this is the case.
