Meet Me in St. Louis, or: How did they pay the RENT on this place?

Some time when you have felt deeply philosophical, perhaps you have pondered whether or not it is possible to fit a full, restful vacation into a space of thirty hours or less. Perhaps you have thought such a thing to be impossible without some sort of time warp. If so, my friend, you would be wrong.

I believe in the restorative powers of the solo road trip. I spent about ten hours this weekend on I-64, sun shining, sky blue, fall leaves raining down upon me. Even had I no destination, this was a blissful time alone. Just me. Time to breathe! The days and weeks of work, people, events and activities crowding one upon the other -- it all melts away with that sense of freedom a blue sky and an open road brings.

However, I had a destination, and glorious one! It was only the thought of that meeting that prevented my pulling over to hike. I have never had throngs of friends, but the friends I have are exceedingly dear to me. Normally, I see J., with whom I went to school from seventh grade through graduation, a couple times a year for several days. We only had about two hours together this summer, a work-day lunch to catch up on the events of a year, and I had missed her desperately. J. and her roommate B., who would be a great friend if we only lived in the same state, would meet me in St. Louis. We had tickets to "Rent" at the Fox Theatre!

This was my first Broadway show, albeit a touring company. Considering I was raised on Broadway musicals and still hold singalongs around the piano that last well into the night, I'm surprised it took me this long! I don't count highschool productions, of course. If you're looking for a place to attend your first show, the Fox is the place to do it. The lobby areas are reminiscent of the stately turn-of-the-century (the other century) opera houses that I've been to -- gently curved staircases, glittering chandeliers, sconces and intricate details. The interior is rather bizarre. It was built in January 1929, at a time when Orientalism and exoticism were incredibly popular. There are sculpted elephant heads, pseudo-Hindu goddesses with Westernized faces, monkeys, Asiatic lions... every niche had a new melding of traditions. Altogether dazzling, if a bit odd.

Rent itself was great fun. I've known the show for years, of course, but I didn't entirely know what to expect. Several of the actors and singers were exceptional, though not without fault. Some of them were very young and inexperienced, which was mostly evident in their interplay with others. I learned young that "Reacting is the most important part of Acting." That, I think, is the most common fault of the young and otherwise talented. I've always thought that, had Jonathan Larson lived, he would have continued to do a lot of tweaking to the show; it rather needs it, I'm afraid. I love it, but that doesn't prevent my seeing a few flaws. Some things just don't work as well as they could, and many of those problems could be easily fixed. Of course, nobody's going to do that at this point, so I'll just enjoy the show as is.

We went to dinner after the show and picked apart the performances, the script, the details of life. What fun it is to be with other people who don't mind if you analyze things, who know you are having a wonderful time despite or because of the imperfections that you acknowledge! B. spent the night with her parents, while J. and I stayed up until the wee hours, talking with great gulps of conversation. I don't remember anymore what it was like to have enough time with her, to not need to spend every minute intensely because the minutes are so few. We even woke early, by went-to-bed-at-three standards, and had some time together with B. before we needed to hit the road.

Of course, a review of my trip would not be complete without a brief mention of the tourist attraction of Collinsville, IL. B. had grown up there, and it was a must-see for a first time visitor. I must admit, I laughed aloud when I beheld the World's Largest Catsup Bottle with my own eyes. It's the strangest looking water-tower I've ever seen. I gather that a ketchup (or catsup, if you prefer) manufacturer was responsible for most commerce in Collinsville for about fifty years. The Bottle has outlasted the manufacturer; makes one think ecologically, doesn't it?

A happy way to say good-bye to friends. After another gorgeous drive, I was home in time to practice and do my German, much like any other Sunday. Despite the fact that I didn't miss any practicing or studying and did only minimal lesson-rescheduling (I even gave blood and ran errands!), this weekend away has left me happily refreshed and satisfied. This may become my new fall therapy!