All About Me

Have I mentioned lately that I never EVER pass up free tickets?  Just in case you haven’t heard, I’ll state the fact again; I’m a complete and total [ticket] whore.

As with all whore-related professions, it’s incredibly important to advertise your availability and proclivities.  A gal needs to announce her whoredom as frequently as possible via every available medium, preferably while wearing sequins.  Trust the Elly on this one.  For yesterday, I scored a pair of tickets to see the invited dress rehearsal of All About Me.

I’m not a huge Michael Feinstein fan.  To be brutally honest, I can hardly tell him apart from Michael Bublé, Steve Tyrell, or the hordes of similar sounding singers.  I’m not likely to swoon for any jazz singer on Broadway unless its Harry…and then someone better have a mop ready.

Michael kicked off the show with a song, then popped down to his piano for a little monologue, expounding on his love of the Great American Songbook, “or the Rod Stewart Songbook as its come to be known.”

The horror.

Did I mention that because the show is still in the rehearsal stages, the theater bar wasn’t open?

On the other hand, I love me some Dame Edna.  She makes me giggle.  Of course I love her, right?  She’s a catty old drag queen and I’m a total sucker for drag queens.  If it were up to me, I wouldn’t frequent any establishment that didn’t have a queen or two scattered about.  Those gals make me look like I’m of a perfectly average height, even downright dainty!

The Dame did her usual shtick and tormented a few members of the audience.  At one point she described a female patron’s outfit as appropriate for a special occasion.  “Not this occasion, mind you, but something special…like helping a family pet give birth.”  Girlie rocked her rendition of “Single Ladies” (yet another song that I’m content to listen to on endless loop), but her performance of “The Dingo Ate My Baby” we my favorite part of the show by far.

I worry about Her Royal Edna when she’s shuffling about in her jewel encrusted hot pink stilettos.  There were several times I shrieked aloud because she came so close to toppling down the stairs in those things.  Oh the sacrifices we gals make to look good…and she did look good.  I think she must have at least fourteen members of her costume staff on permanent bedazzler duty.  Her frocks nearly blinded me.  I swear she’s just about the shiniest thing I’ve ever seen on a stage, and that’s including all those stages with stripper poles from my music biz days.

Because the show is far from open, it isn’t really appropriate to “review” the piece.  I will say there’s a LOT of work to be done.  My biggest concern was the lack of chemistry between Michael and Edna.  I mean, the basic premise of the show is they hate each others guts but DAMN.  I think there’s more affection between Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie.  To be fair, neither of their solo acts is overly conducive to partnerships.  Sharing a stage is clearly a foreign experience for them both.

Regardless, I had a blast and would eagerly watch it again.  Both Michael and Edna are super talented and I suspect the show will come together marvelously…so long as they stay away from any more Rod references.  Personally, I’d like to see Michael don one of Edna’s glittery gowns for the big finale, but I’ve yet to be consulted.  Go figure.


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22 thoughts on “All About Me

    1. I love the Dame, but the best thing? What about Andy Gibb? Olivia Newton John? Paul Hogan? Men at Work?

      Remember when they filmed that Facts of Life movie in Australia?!?

      I may or may not be fascinated with the entire country.

  1. I have no idea who the Michael dude is. I love Dame Edna. Like you, I’ve had a lifelong love affair with drag queens. Once did my makeup once after a show and my gosh, I’ve never looked so good. Or sparkly. And kissing me might have been dangerous. All that glitter on my lips felt kind of sharp…but I rocked that look.

    ♥Spot
    .-= Spot´s last blog ..Why Lu rocks and a desperate plea for money… =-.

    1. Can Jordan sing? Oh hell, Edna can’t sing so I reckon it doesn’t matter. I bet Edna was a wicked rebounder in her day. Can you bedazzle high tops? Have I already found my next craft project?

  2. How fun is that! I saw Dame Edna several years ago on Broadway, and then a few days later when she hosted the outdoor “Broadway Cares” fundraiser with Bernadette Peters…. awesomely hysterical, vulgar and yet somehow sweet!

    And as for your earlier references, Michael Feinstein little known talent galore, Michael Buble overrated egotistical hack…. there, now is all clear!

  3. OKay, it’s already Wednesday and I never got back to you… Shame on me.. So sorry – I’ve been drowning in gold sequins of my own(well, they’re mine until later this week, when the bride purchases the veil) and getting a massive neck-ache in the process.

    Man, I would’ve been miserable with Edna.. I just don’t find him funny, maybe earlier in life he was but now he’s just…Not. And I love drag queens but he fails to do it for me. And Feinstein? Well, haven’t we Jews suffered enough?

    And as a consolation prize for my tardiness – later today I have some fabulous pics to send you of my devastatingly gorgeous man. His new movie is out in May – the trailer is droolworthy. I’ll be there with a towel. Join me! I can’t bear to torture my dear husband with this..

  4. I LOVE DAME EDNA!!!!! I last saw her in NYC and I swear, she gets funnier every.single.time. Oh, and uh, I get free tickets to Dr.Phil. Anytime. He’s practically a drag queen…and well, for SURE his wife is!

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