I am by no means a theater critic. I do, in fact, hate a lot of theater. Since meeting my husband 5 years ago, he has dragged me (often kicking and screaming) to numerous theatrical productions of various types. These types range in quality from local theater to big productions starring famous people. Bless his heart, he does try to take me to shows he thinks I might enjoy; anything dark or weird.

Over time, my aversion to theater has lessened to the point where I am less inclined to kick and scream, but rather let out a few moans of “I guess so” when he asks if I’d like to see something. This has also geared me towards keeping a weather eye out for shows we can see together; as it’s something he thoroughly enjoys doing. It makes him happy and I enjoy seeing him happy. I’ve also seen enough shows now to have a firm grasp of what the good ones look like.

Vanity Fair Cast Photo

On our way back home from Paris, we stopped over in Chicago’s O’Hare airport. As we staggered through the terminal, I spotted a poster for the pre-Broadway production of The Addams Family Musical starring Nathan Lane and Bebe Neuwirth. I was a little more than excited. When we came home, we bought tickets. They were expensive.

A week later, we were back in Chicago for Thanksgiving. Tickets in hand, we ventured to the big city to see a show that couldn’t possibly disappoint. I mean, we’re talking Nathan Lane, Bebe Neuwirth, and the frickin’ Addams Family. How could we lose? OK, so it’s a musical, but Nathan Lane, Bebe Neuwirth, and the frickin’ Addams Family! As usual, I didn’t set out with the highest of hopes. We’d already heard that the show wasn’t very good, but that Nathan Lane brought it to the table and served it up right. I was looking forward to seeing Lane and Neuwirth do their thing. I mean, these are top quality actors we’re talking about!

To be fair, let’s start with what the show got right. The costumes for the Addams ancestors were gorgeous and rather well done.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way….

The Addams Family Musical was probably one of the worst shows I’ve ever seen. Nathan Lane was out sick and his stand-by, Merwin Foard, took his place. The sheer magnitude of dissatisfaction in this misfortune hovered over the audience like a thick fog. It was, needless to say, a severe let down and the audience never fully recovered.

The curtain opened to a whimsical tune about Wednesday Addams no longer being a little kid anymore and taking the fictional Addams oath to honor the family’s macabre way of life. Instantly, you could tell the girl playing Wednesday was going to get on your nerves (AJB’s 13 year old daughter hated her). Not only was she unable to evoke the spirit of Wednesday, she was, sadly, a stupid little brat which conjured thoughts of ripping one’s ears off.

The creators of this show thought it would be awesome to take our beloved Addams’ into a new direction. Wednesday was now 18, she was in love, rebelling against the strangeness of her family, and filled to the brim with teenage angst. While the creators attempted to keep some semblance of Wednesday in tact, despite her new found mutinous behavior, she wasn’t anything even remotely resembling the little girl clutching a decapitated doll we know and love. This girl they called “Wednesday” had somehow met a boy (a really normal dude) and fell in love. They made out all the time.

Despite claims in the Playbill that the creators would disinherit the TV show and films, the major plot of the story was “normal family meets Addams’ and freaks out”. So much for new ideas. Normal boy’s parents meet the family. All hell’s gonna break loose now! The stereotypical Ohio business man and his quirky, poetry-spouting wife come over for dinner. What could go wrong? Wednesday begs her not-normal family to act normal for one night. There was a song about it.

During the course of the evening, Morticia has a mid-life crisis, Pugsley accidentally poisons the normal mother (of which he is later apologetic), Grandmama flashes her crotch and discusses her sex-life, the family plays a made-up game called “Full Disclosure” in which the “adults” of the family drink wine and tell the truth. Not sure why. Wednesday throws numerous tantrums, Gomez whines about not understanding anyone, and Ohio Dad fucks a giant squid; after which I inadvertently spoke out, “what the hell?” Fester fades in and out of being a weirdo-pervert to a wise narrator who falls in love with the moon – eventually copulating with it. The subject of “sex” was a major topic – because, you know, Morticia and Gomez just bang all the time – it eventually became uncomfortable and creepy, but not in a good way.

Cousin “Itt” makes a brief appearance and so does Thing. Lurch is ever present, but because he doesn’t speak, he’s the least of our worries…that is, until his big number.

None of the above is actually half of the show’s overall problems. Problem was, the creators of the show just don’t get it. They have absolutely NO idea who the Addams Family are, what they’re about, or why we love them. Morticia would never, in a million years, have a mid-life crisis. Ten years in the future or not, she would not lament the appearance of crow’s feet. She would, in fact, rejoice that they were called “crow’s feet” and that like a fine wine, she only gets better with age. Gomez would continue his usual half-crazed antics, be cool, fence, crash trains, and smoke cigars. Pugsley and Wednesday would grow up, but continue to celebrate who they were. Grandmama would always be Grandmama and Lurch would always be Lurch. There is, you see, a great deal of pride in being an Addams. While I suppose it’s OK for characters to grow or change, they shouldn’t change into an entirely new family no one cares about. Because the TV show is an integral part of who the family is, you almost certainly can’t pretend it doesn’t exist.

They’re creepy and they’re kooky, mysterious and spooky, they’re altogether ooky, The Addam’s Family.

At their core, they are what a family should be. They’re not perfect and sometimes they embarrass you, but they love you for who you are…even if you’re dead, demented, or covered in hair. They are, above all, about tolerance, tradition, and love. The people who produced this musical totally missed the mark. They managed to turn the undying affection of Morticia and Gomez into a sleezy sex-fest. Yes, we know they bone all the time, but their implied love-making and copious amounts of arm kissing was always far more romantic. We don’t need it spelled out.

Aside from the horrifying diversion from the truest sense of the family, it was painfully obvious that the actors were aware of what they’d gotten themselves into. The missing Nathan Lane, replaced with the poor man’s version of “Raul Julia meets Robert Goulet” wasn’t able to pull off jokes Lane could have done in his sleep. Bebe Neuwirth, whom you’d assume would make the best Morticia ever, ended up looking like someone’s mom dressed as Morticia for Halloween – in one of those “Gothic Enchantress” costumes you see at Target. Frankly, Bebe just doesn’t have the cleavage to pull off the lowest of the low-cut Morticia costumes. And sadly, her big number “Second Banana” fell absolutely flat as it continued the theme of mid-life crisis comparing herself to an old plum. Morticia, insecure? Never. Ever.

Should I even talk about the cruddy set design? Talk about cheap. Just about everything looked borrowed from another show and none of it conveyed the grandeur of the Addams residence in all it’s Second Empire, deliciously dilapidated decor. Cobwebs? Not one. I also don’t have space/time to discuss the ugly choreography and the sad use of major-key songs versus minor (more spookier) songs.

The Addams Family Musical was disappointing on every level. We tried to think: Even if Nathan Lane had showed up, would it have made a difference? It might have…a bit. Nathan Lane is pretty awesome, but I’m not sure even the great Nathan Lane could carry a dead weight like this. Bebe couldn’t. I wouldn’t be surprised if this show ends up having one of the shortest runs on Broadway ever. They might even set a new record. Thing is, that’s sad. This show had the potential to be something truly amazing.

If it tells you anything, AJB’s kid’s have been making fun of “Second Banana” for days. If this wildebeest of a sham crosses your path, turn around and walk the other way. You’re better off renting the goofy Addams Family Reunion movie with Tim Curry and Darryl Hannah. That’s not saying much.

I often think about the differences in the passing of time. It goes slow when we’re kids and fast when we’re adults. Is it simply about having a basis of reference? An hour is only 60 small minutes and each one of those is 60 small seconds. I guess knowing how long it takes to do something, takes the fun out of it. When you’re a kid, you have no concept of time beyond being home before sunset. You also don’t care about time. You don’t wear a watch until you get your first one in 10th grade and even then, you often forget to wind it. When the battery dies, you stop wearing it. Or at least, I did. I still have the watch my Dad gave me in 10th grade.

This year hasn’t passed any faster than all those that came before it. So why does it feel that way? Once Christmas is over it’s on to New Year’s Eve and the whole thing starts all over again. Except this time, you’re a year older and perhaps a little wiser.

2008 was the year I started my freelancing career. In January I was liberated from Hot Topic the same day my Grandpa Ernie died.

In February we had a lunar eclipse and I took a really great photo of it. We also fired our gardeners and I took on the yard. I’ve regretted it ever since. Poloroid announced they were ceasing production of their iconic instant film.

In March, I turned 33. I didn’t talk about my birthday and can’t remember what I did. A full year passed since my Dad died. March was hard. I did an amazing photo session with an old boyfriend. I got into an accident on the 5-FWY in which my car was damaged and the squirrel died. My baby brother announced that his (hated) girlfriend was pregnant – this would cause a devastating family rift that is still unresolved.

In April, I went to Japan. A life’s dream come to fruition. April was a good month. I also learned why you shouldn’t get wasted on a long flight home.

In May, a friend I’ve known since first grade got married. I went to the wedding by myself. Gas prices were the highest in my lifetime.

In June, Wall-E came out. It remains one of the most beautiful movies I’ve ever seen. I saw Peter Murphy at the House of Blues. The Apricots on our tree came in. I had this wild idea of making jam, but the fruit went bad very quickly and I missed the boat.

In July, AJB and I went to Chicago to see his mom. The cicada were in full force. That month, we attended Comic-Con in San Diego and even though I wrote about it, I never published the post. I just did. I embraced Twitter and got into more trouble with the law – expired tags and mysteriously missing insurance information.

In August, we had what might have been an attempted break-in or maybe ghosts. My sister visited for a weekend. I made a YouTube video to take part in an online piano teaching experiment. I still haven’t started because the book is expensive.

By September, the heat was getting to me. I didn’t write much and didn’t get a whole lot done over Summer in general. I did some photo shoots here and there. I started up with a cool vintage clothing store that offers self satisfaction over heaps of cash.

In October, Obama-fever was setting in. AJB and I celebrated our 4 year anniversary by getting engaged. I voted early in Norwalk and waited 4 hours. My sister came into town and helped me pick out my engagement ring. On Halloween, we drove out to Vegas to canvass for Obama.

November, Obama won the election and all was right with the world. Mostly. We stayed in Nevada until the 5th. AJB bought my ring and presented it to me on the Haunted Mansion ride at Disneyland. A week or so later, we traveled to Florida for a theme park convention. I had a headache for three days, but got to meet lots of people and saw Universal Orlando and Islands of Adventure. Starbucks unleashed their Gingerbread Lattes as “Ginger Snap Lattes”. My brother’s baby was born. Welcome Micheal Joseph Simental.

In December, we traveled to Chicago and New York. I saw Jersey Boys in Chi-Town and Liza in Manhattan. My brother, my Mom, and I saw Frankie Valli in San Bernardino. Bettie Page and Majel Barrett died. Christmas came and went. I was unprepared but it all came together in the end. I announced to my family that AJB and I were getting married – they all knew something was up, but thought I might be pregnant. LOL.

And now, here we are. The end of 2008. Is it just me or do years get more and more momentous as you get older? A long time friend got married, my grandpa died, I started my career, I went to Japan, Chicago (twice), New York, and Florida. I traveled more in 2008 than any other year. My brother had a baby and I got engaged. 2008 was filled with excitement and many life changing events. 2009 brings new promise, but I am hesitant to say it’s going to be great because I just don’t know. I do know that in 2009 I will be planning my wedding, turning 34, and getting married. The uncertainty of this economic crisis is casting a dark cloud over the new year. Who knows what the future will bring? *We are all interested in the future because that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives.

See what happened in 2007

*Crisswell, Ed Wood

Trustworthiness

I spent a rather lackluster weekend in outskirts of Chicago. I’m not sure what I expected, but it went by quickly and we spent quality time with AJB’s mom (whom I like very much). AJB grew up about 40 minutes outside of Chicago-proper in a small town that can best be described as “Normal Rockwell”. Aside from being completely opposite of how I grew up, I find that despite how beautiful it is out there, I am unnerved by the constant grinding sounds of the cicada and the sheer volume of khaki shorts. It’s not Los Angeles, that’s for sure. There is also this sense that the white people out-number the colored people (or, people of color) and that when people stare at me, it’s because they really haven’t ever seen a girl with blue hair – which let’s face it, what year is this? Although there is something sorta sweet about being that naive, I can’t help but feel uneasy when I’m there. Perhaps it’s the stares or the startling lack of ethnic diversity. It could be the cicada or the “boring, normal, fine” mentality of it’s community. Whatever it is, I’m glad to be home.

Not that I love the congestion, the lack of any one language, the smog, or the fine layer of filth on everything around here, but well, I kinda do love it. I’ve always believed that the place you live in defines you in a way. Or at least, it says a lot about who you are. You choose the place, you become part of the scenery, and visa versa. I’m sure people from the Mid-West think that Angelenos are fake, plastic, snobs. Well, some of us are. And while I’m sure there are quite a few lovely rebels hidden behind the Squares in khaki shorts, they are fewer are farther between. I guess what I mean to say is that Los Angeles wears it’s heart on it’s sleeve a little better. Mid-Westerners, in their undying need to fit in, hide it well, submerge it behind their jobs and their kids. Mid-Westerners are not defined by diversity, they are in fact defined by how un-diverse they are.

Naturally, this is why I oppose my very own brother living amongst the faceless crowds of “boring, normal, fine”. I suppose I feel he deserves better. Then again, I think everyone does. I simply don’t understand how living that sort of life is fulfilling. Is it? Do people in the Mid-West look back on their lives and think “Damn, I wish I’d shook things up a bit!” And it’s not that they don’t have culture, it’s just not as raucous as the kind we have here – or in any major city. There is some value to living the picturesque Normal Rockwell life, but at the end of the day, I guess all I can really say is “Different stroke for different folks.”

Eventually I would like to get a real taste of Chicago. I’ve been out that way several times and the only real feel I’ve gotten has been behind the window of the passenger side. I am most positive that Chicago is where all the real weirdos live. All the color and music and culture. Strangely, you don’t have to travel very far to lose it.

I digress, I think Highland Park is a lovely little town and there is a part of me that thinks it’s just dandy and wouldn’t it be nice to raise kids there? A place where you can sit on your porch, drink Countrytime Lemonade, watch the world go by, and listen to kids call out “Olly, olly, oxen free!” as they run around on perfectly manicured lawns.

I’m just glad to be home. I’ll get back to my own brand of status-quo and remind myself to shake things up from time to time.

Noteworthy items:

I haven’t had time to go through or upload my Comic-Con pics. As usual, I made it a point to take pictures of the people no one was taking pictures of. That’s my fave. The chubby Wonder Women, the old masked vigilantes…they’re the real heroes. I mean, seriously, if you’re old and fat and you’ve got the balls to dress up like a comic-book character, you’re A+ in my book. It takes real guts to dress up like that to begin with. Part of me loves the balls-to-the-wall attitude of these people, part of me finds it amusing, but mostly, you should see the looks on their faces when you ask them to take their picture…like you just made their day. The great thing about Comic-Con is that everyone there is willing to have their picture taken. For a few days, they’re celebrities. And with the total mass assimilation of Comic-Con, some of these people show up on new sites and in magazines. How great is that? Warhol said everyone gets their 15 minutes.

I’ll post Comic-Con pics when I get back from Chi-Town.

Along with that, I’ve spent a good deal of time going through images from several paid shoots. It got to the point where my eyes were starting to cross. I’m done, for now. I can’t complain. Being busy means I’m doing something right.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve jumped on board the Twitter band-wagon. I’m not sure why. My brother put it fairly accurately: It’s like text-messaging…except you’re texting yourself. I get the concept of Twitter, but I haven’t figured out why it’s necessary in life. I’ll admit, it’s moderately fun to post mini-updates from my iPhone (as if anyone cares), but right now the only person on my list if AJB and I don’t think he reads it all that often anyway. I also think that once I start poo-pooing things like Twitter, it means I’m old. Get off my lawn, kind of old. I figure, as long as I at least see what all the fuss is about, I’m doing alright. I’ve also integrated into my blog, which is kind of neat. It also automatically posts daily Twitter updates, so if you’re not Twitterpated, you can at least know that at some point yesterday I was doing something….not all that interesting enough to blog about. Do you care? I don’t see why anyone would.

We live in such a extreme realm of voyeurism. We need constant updates from our friends and must keep tabs on them at all times. Frankly, Twitter is kind of sick, but you didn’t hear that from me. Once again, I find myself contradicting myself. If I dislike Twitter, I should dislike blogs. Right? Besides, news of this week’s earthquake in So. Cal hit Twitter before it hit the news. I guess that counts for something.