Friday, April 22, 2011

Eat Right

Who doesn't love Chick-fil-A?

No, really.

Who doesn't love Chick-fil-A? I've got a few words for you - most notably these: our friendship is OVER.

My friendship with Chick-fil-A goes back to junior high. Each weekend, my mom would drop my best friend Erin and I off at the Anderson Mall. She'd give us each $5, and with it, both of us would buy a Chick-fil-A Value Meal (back when they were in a box - remember?), the latest cassingle from Record Bar, and something absolutely "spectacular" from Everything's $1.

I still frequent Chick-fil-A. In fact, I often joke that my wages should be garnished by them and Target, and after spending a week in London, malnourished by the absolutely disgusting diets of the British (no offense), my first meal back Stateside was a Chicken Biscuit and a large tea. This is often my first meal - of the day, of a mini-break. "All great weekends begin with Chicken Biscuits" is something I believe as firmly as I hold to the inalienable truth that Cadbury Eggs should be sold year-round.

I also firmly believe in the values to which Chick-fil-A is committed. That's why I'm asking my three readers (Sissy, you've joined Mom and Daddy, right?) to take part in this week's Buycott (described in the video below).

I'll see you there! After all, those biscuits don't just eat themselves.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

"Something shocking"

While I'm still sailing on the Anything Goes bandwagon, why not post this "delirious" little clip?!

If you ask me, "it'd delightful. It's delicious. It's de-lovely."

And I'm not just talking about the tiny size of Sutton Foster's microscopic waistline.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Foster's "Top!"

Think back with me, if you will.

Back before grad school, back before the Four I Adore, back before Chick-fil-A served the breakfast burritos with which I am, admittedly, obsessed - way back then, I was a theatre reviewer. Well, that's probably overstating things. I went to the theatre and wrote about what I saw, and metro-Atlanta's Gwinnett Daily Post was good enough to publish whatever drivel I had written.

You with me? Good.

So, back then, I reviewed a certain show. Many of you have probably seen this show. In fact, most of you - MOM - probably love this show, and with good reason: Les Miserables is one of the most beautiful stories of redemption ever written for the musical stage. Its entirely-sung story is fool-proof, and I think we can all agree that this lyrical libretto, dripping as it is with pathos, makes it impossible for any company - regardless their level of professionalism - to mess up.

Right?

Don't kid yourself there, Jean Valjean.

In the late 1990's, a National Company of "Les Mis" toured through Atlanta's Fox Theatre. I was there, a pen in one hand and playbill in the other, ready to write the notes on which I'd base my review.

The curtain went up, and immediately, my spirits went down. I quickly realized that this wasn't the same "Les Mis" I'd seen so many times before. Instead of heart-wrenching, this lifeless production was heart-less. In fact, if you've seen the show, you'll know how epically the production failed when I tell you that, at a certain pivotal moment in Act I, I was squirming in my seat, screaming to myself, "Fantine, go ahead and cut your friggin' hair. In fact, I think I'll just cut the loss of the time I've wasted here, file my story, and get on with my life, because girl, you and your little cast mates have killed 'The Dream I Dreamed.'"

So much for "If you can't say something nice ...," huh?

Actually, I DID say something nice about this "Les" that so dreadfully "Mis"sed the mark. Its one (and ONLY) redeeming quality was the performance of its Eponine. Brilliant, beautiful, and heart-breaking, Sutton Foster's take on "'ponine" was the one positive part of an otherwise negative review. I came home knowing that hers was a star on the rise.

At least I was right about something.

From her terrific turn in that terrible tour, Foster's gone on to a Tony Award winning performance in the title role of Thoroughly Modern Millie. Among other Broadway smashes, she's also starred in The Drowsy Chaperone ("oh, I love it so much"), and, as of last nite, she is tearing it up as Reno Sweeney in the Roundabout Theatre Company's revival of Cole Porter's Anything Goes.

Ben Brantley is a theatre critic whose reviews carry exponentially more weight than mine ever did. He agrees with my assessment of Broadway's brightest light. In his New York Times review of Anything Goes, Brantley wrote:

"Who needs a brass section when you’ve got Sutton Foster? ... When she leads the show-stopping 'Blow, Gabriel, Blow,' you figure that if no horn-tooting archangel appears, it’s only because he’s afraid of the competition."

And who could blame him?

Sutton Foster, you amaze me and inspire me and make me so thankful I didn't skip the second act of that miserable "Les Mis."

In other words, Girl? "You're the Top."

Monday, April 4, 2011

Picture Perfect Friends

I make no secret of the fact that I am WAY outclassed by my friends. Just to name a few of these wonderful men and women, I offer these examples: there's Mandy. Mandy, witty and wonderful and as big a fan of basketball as I am, just wrote the single most brilliant piece about Facebook that I not only HAVE ever read but that I WILL ever read. Leslie can do math in her head AND has a concealed weapons permit, and Brooke?

Well, Brooke runs a photography business so booming that it prompted the Professional Photographers of America (PPA) to feature her work in the latest edition of their Professional Photographer magazine.

You should read it.

I haven't been this proud, since my nephew named his new Webkin after Rex Chapman.

Friday, April 1, 2011

If THIS doesn't make you cry with pride ...

... then you probably voted for Ralph Nader.



GOOOOOOOOOOOOO, C-A-T-S! CATS! CATS! CATS!