I'll drink to that.

Eliza gave me a CD of Elaine Stritch at Liberty and I started listening to it on my way home from work yesterday. I meandered around the East Village for quite some time with Elaine, looking in Hardware Stores for this particular type of hook that allows you to hang things on a metal mesh grid should you happen to have one.

I didn't find the hooks. But I got caught . . .by musical theatre! Hang me on a metal mesh grid should you happen to have one.

When I arrived at my apartment, I had listened to almost all of the 2 CD set. I kept my headphones on while I took off my coat and fed the cats. When I finally sat down at my desk, I was WEEPING. It started when she did Ladies Who Lunch. I listened to it twice and decided (again) that Sondheim was a genius, and what a perfect song for Elaine -- my best friend Elaine Stritch who kindly accompanied me on my errands and with whom I spent a very emotional part of my evening!! What a perfect song for Elaine!

When I moved to New York, I had serious car stereo withdrawal for months until I got a pair of really huge headphones for my CD player. It makes music so much more intimate when you have your ears covered with headphones and you can walk around at liberty (HEY-OO!). Once, while walking across the Williamsburg Bridge, a piece of music became particularly inspiring, and I felt an onset of groove. I danced like crizayzee all the way across the bridge. I'll take huge headphones over the car stereo any day.

But, ELAINE STRITCH!!!!???? No, she didn't make me dance, that would have been the ultimate. But she really moved me. I listened to Ladies Who Lunch on repeat on my way to work this morning and teared up each time she sings, "And here's to the girls who just watch. . ."

So as soon as I took off my headphones, Katie called and wanted to come over and get some black and white photos I had of a Holy Bones rehearsal so that she could use them on the flyer for a gig we have March 17th at Pangaea.

Katie was on her way to Alphabet Lounge because Omri was doing a set. I invited myself. We drank Coronas and listened to a band that did a Chili Peppers Cover. I told Katie after 2 beers that I could play the drums and that I wanted to be a vocalist because "what a release." Omri showed up. The bands were all running behind, so Omri's booking guy told him to play as long as he wanted. Joking, Katie and I were like, "Hey! Awesome! We'll be right back with our instruments!"

Omri took me seriously and asked his partner with the dreds who's name was not one I'd ever heard before. He was like "whatever, yeah. . . what does a theremin sound like?"

And so guess who had an impromptu theremin gig in an smoky East Village bar playing what the trumpet player/guitarist with the dreds and my friend the keyboard player and lyricist described with skipping unimportance as "music you'd play with your friends when you're really stoned" all within not 2 hours of SOBBING with musical theatre icon Elaine Stritch!!?????

I was only supposed to play on several songs, but every time I looked over at Omri between the songs, he would smile and whisper, "we need you!" That was an extremely therapeutic thing to hear -- especially when you've invited yourself to a friend's gig, had like 3 Corona's and talked yourself on stage with the musicians. Before each song, dreds guy would cross the stage SO intensely and say whatever chords I was supposed to know, like "G# F," with MUCH importance and concern. I furrowed my brow for intensity and thanked graciously him every time.

I wore the glove.

It really felt wonderful! I surprised myself with how comfortable I've become with my theremin. I'm starting to feel as if I am developing my skillz and I really enjoy playing. Katie and Heather commented positively on my improvement, too. I think Heather said something along the lines of, "Wow!! Looks like playing 80's covers is really paying off!"

I play best when I'm grounded and I'm most grounded after I've wept.

So, thank you, Elaine.

Thank you, Elaine Stritch, Broadway Icon, for the opportunity to pull electronic music out of the smoky ether in a slow-core set with two stoned guys at a bar on Avenue C .

So here's to the girls on the go--
Everybody tries.
Look into their eyes,
And you'll see what they know:
Everybody dies.
A toast to that invincible bunch,
The dinosaurs surviving the crunch.
Let's hear it for the ladies who lunch--
Everybody rise!
Rise!
Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise!
Rise! *

*From Company by Stephen Sondheim