Oprah in the Park

That is what I would call it if Ms. Winfrey ever did Othello.

Anyway... went with Ron and his sister Cynthia and her husband Joe to see "Hamlet" in Central Park.

Here is what you have to do to get a free ticket to this show which starts at 8pm:



You have to get in line in the park the day of in the morning. We got there with chairs and water and food and reading stuff at 8:30am. Then you have to hang there until 1pm when they start giving out tickets. Two tickets max to each person in line. They are very strict on cutting and people showing up late to join friends. I think it may even be punishable by death, which is okay if it happens in front of you and you are iffy about getting in anyway. We were iffy. We were there at 8:30am and had still had Iffy status.

A woman even fainted. From the heat, not the status.

Turns out we were one of the last to get a ticket and these were in seats with "limited leg room" which means if you don't have to be bring legs, don't.




See where I am in that book? I started it in September! Arrgggh!

Cynthia and Joe catered a lovely wine and cheese and bread dinner on my terrace since Ron and I waited all day for the tix. It was really perfect and I was so thrilled to entertain. And with my preparing food for others hangups, it being catered was perfect.




A catered affair

Then it was steps from my Upper West Side flat to the theatre in the Park. Lovely, lovely, lovely.

Our seats.

Well there was no way 4 tall people could have folded ourselves into these seats. There would have been a blood clot and then death for certain.

I went to talk to the nice usher who sent me to speak with her manager at this obviously sold out event. The three New Yorkers I was with stood in our unsittable seats and lovingly mocked me for even trying (I was told later). Well, this naive Californian managed to talk us into 4 amazing seats just left of center that the manager was holding!!! I merrily waved them down from the crippling gods and we continued our lovely, lovely evening. I did end up sitting next to a crystal meth addict lady (poor thing) who finally got escorted out of the theatre. I thought she was mentally handicapped, but all the New Yorkers around me told me at intermission she was out of her mind on crystal.

Naive Californian.

Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?

It was really satisfying. Some great lines.