All those day before yesterdays

It was a whirlwind trip to Boston. After an 11-hour work shift threatened by a few computer system halts, I boarded the express to South Station. This was definitely an express trip, I was due back on board 24 hours after I arrived.

Got a little nap in at Chez Fitz -- of course, I was hanging with my Pearl Jam bud, Liam -- and then headed over to the hallowed ground of Fenway Park. Felt completely exhausted ... but if the delectable Sharon Gabet (best known as Raven Whitney on Edge of Night) tells you you're looking good, you go with it!

Loved our fan club seats, two sections over from Pesky Pole. We looked directly onto the stage in center field, more than I can say for the floor seats that seemed to be facing the right-field wall.

Main set: Release, Long Road, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town, Low Light, All Those Yesterdays, Given To Fly, Mind Your Manners, Why Go, Daughter/WMA,/Another Brick in the Wall, Even Flow, Faithfull, Grievance, I Am Mine, Down, Black, Do The Evolution, Masters of War, I Am a Patriot, Porch.

Encore 1: Strangest Tribe, Society, Just Breathe, Sleeping by Myself, Wasted Reprise/Life Wasted, State of Love and Trust, Comfortably Numb, Corduroy.

Encore 2: Draw the Line, Alive, I’ve Got a Feeling, Baba O’Riley.

We got two openers for the price of one -- "Release" and "Long Road." I immediately realized that this is a band tailor-made for sending their words and music into the open air ... and that it had been about 13 years since my last outdoor Pearl Jam show. (It wasn't until I made a chart for this blog that I realized I had never before gotten "Release" on one of my setlists.)

"Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" made an early entry into the set. With a woman whose back was tattooed with more lyrics to the song than its elongated title in front of us, our section was emotionally engaged in the show pretty quickly. And "Low Light," "All Those Yesterdays" and "Faithfull" drove me completely mad -- they're tracks from my favorite Pearl Jam album, Yield, that I had never seen live before.



They scorched through the first set with the likes of "Given to Fly" and "Mind Your Manners" and "Even Flow" and "Porch." At one point, Stone and Matt cracked me up by starting "Grievance." But then they stopped to do "Faithfull," and went back to "pledge their grievance to the flag" after that -- apparently they jumped a song in the setlist.

Of course, we were awash in Boston references and baseball references and Boston baseball references. It's not like I didn't expect that, but it still brought me out of my reverie to some degree. Former Red Sox hurler and fashion plate Bronson Arroyo joined in for "Black," even singing the background do-do-do-do-do-do-dos from the old days.

Eddie elicited some boos from the crowd when he mentioned loving the Cubs, and he chastised the crowd for not remembering what it's like to not bring home a championship for a very long, long time. But he added that his favorite American League team was the Red Sox, and all was right in the land once again.

It was horribly cute when "Youk" -- Kevin Youkilis -- brought out Eddie's ukelele, it was what one might call a natural. Later, sports personality, and I use that term loosely, Peter Gammons took the stage ... and then left it. I guess he just wanted to say "hi" to Ed.



One of the show's highlights was a cover of Bob Dylan's "Masters of War." I've heard/seen Eddie perform this with Mike at "Bobfest" a number of years back, but the full band sound was truly something to behold. I got chills. Until I looked to the side and saw the number of people streaming for the exits, then I got annoyed.

They took it down a notch in level, albeit not, in quality to start the second set. "Strangest Tribe" is a soulful song that I hadn't previously experienced in concert, and the show marked only the second time Eddie's "Society" from Into the Wild was performed by the band. "Just Breathe" and "Sleeping by Myself" kept us pretty chilled out until they rocketed into "Life Wasted," complete with reprise, and "State of Love and Trust."

In compiling my setlist chart, I saw that ELEVEN of the songs they hadn't performed before "for me." Granted, a couple were covers -- like Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" and Aerosmith's "Draw the Line" -- and I'm saving the best for last, but that seemed like an awfully high number. To share my bounty with the rest of you, they were in order of appearance ... "Release," "Low Light," "All Those Yesterdays," "Faithfull," "Masters of War," "Strangest Tribe," "Society," "Sleeping by Myself," "Comfortably Numb," "Draw the Line" and the holy grail, something they haven't performed (except for one other time in Boston) since their earliest incarnations, "I've Got a Feeling."

Their Beatles song ("All Those Yesterdays") AND a Beatles cover? Let's just say my socks -- no, they weren't red -- were knocked off.

Almost doing anything for Damian Lewis

When I'm in-season at my job and for my own sanity, I generally stick to my regular schedule -- Fridays and Saturdays off -- so I can rest and recuperate. There are precious few things that make me divert from that course. Damian Lewis at TimesTalks would be one of those.

My first exposure to Damian came during the inaugural season of his Emmy-winning role as Nicholas Brody in Homeland. After that, I went back and saw everything I had missed ahead of that, including the amazing mini-series Band of Brothers and the offbeat procedural Life. I love all three of these to bits and pieces, and any given day of the week, I would probably tell you that any of them was my favorite.

Now there's a new one in the mix I haven't seen yet -- Damian is back on Showtime in Billions with Paul Giamatti. On the TimesTalks waiting line, I felt like the only one who hasn't seen it yet. Lots of glowing testimonials. Maybe enough to prevent me from waiting for the box set to come out and pay to watch it streaming. Of course, in the meantime, I could just continue my Homeland and Life rewatches, as well as Wolf Hall and a variety of movies that I already own.

There's something to be said for getting there early so you have a front-row seat. I met some very fine people who have many of the same tastes that I do. First, there was the artist known as Damianista -- she writes and coordinates the Fan Fun with Damian Lewis blog and companion Facebook group. She knew who I was the minute I got there. And we made a new friend, Joyce, who doesn't do the social media thing. We spent about 90 minutes discussing everything under the sun.

Until ... we saw Damian walking into the building. Holy crud, he's yummy. Anyway, when we got let in, Damianista, Joyce and I quickly slipped into the three seats in front of the stage.

Being a New York Times evening, it didn't seem too off the mark that the discussion started on a political note. (On "Brexit," he's in favor of staying.) I think most people who know of Damian Lewis do know that, although his American accent is flawless, he's actually a Brit. From there, moderator Cara Buckley delved into Lewis' personal history and his own opinion of the hedge-fund managers he researched for Billions, which prompted him to quip, "I was hoping it was going to be an easier evening than this. ... I just wanted to talk about what sort of [makeup] I was wearing on my skin. Whether or not I wore waterproof mascara or not during rainy scenes."

He had a great explanation about why he has been tapped to play working-class American roles, even though he comes from a privately educated background in another country. He called it a "genetic fluke," but I think that's seriously downplaying what he has to offer. He pinpointed it more clearly in regards to his casting on Band of Brothers. His demeanor meant he was well-suited for the maturity and bearing inherent in Richard Winters. And then once Hollywood saw he could do that convincingly, it became a lot easier to nab those kind of intricate roles.

Damian said he does identify with the characters he's been played, adding maybe his red-headed Irish blue-collar look helps him land some of those parts. But in Brody, Winters and Charlie Crews from Life, he appreciated their American sense of drive and desire, of wanting to build or achieve something with their lives.

Homeland became something of a zeitgeist, not in small part because he said the show "reeked of quality and class," mirroring real-life situations -- minus the part in which a CIA operative and a suspected terrorist get personally involved -- while still being able to entertain. Lewis nabbed the Emmy and the Golden Globe that first season. "I didn't know people could get that famous," he said.

He made us laugh quite a bit, whether it was talking about wearing a thong to get his character's walk right in The Escapist -- "it was a little divisive." He also detailed different groups of Homeland fans, including those who watched just to see the relationship between Brody and Carrie (Claire Danes) develop -- "They should have ginger babies, it's going to be so exciting" -- or liberals discussing what made for a terrorist act.

Damian's descriptions of his roles were as piquant as the parts themselves. Henry VIII from Wolf Hall was deemed "the lovable genocidal maniac." Brody from Homeland was described as "tumbleweed blown across the bleak landscape of his life," while Bobby Axelrod from Billions is "blowing the tumbleweed ... kicking it about."

He'll soon be seen on the big screen in Our Kind of Traitor, based on a John LeCarre novel. He considers his role of Hector to be the ambiguous LeCarre character in the story, he's exacting revenge for personal reasons but softened by Stellan Skarsgard's bid to save his family. The idea of Damian taking over as James Bond was not referenced, but the idea of him playing Steve McQueen in a biopic was brought up. "I consider it a lot, but I'm not sure anyone else has."

I do think his feathers got a little ruffled when his success was mentioned in connection with that of Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hiddleston and Eddie Redmayne. As he pointed out, that is a tiny minority of actors who hailed from "posh" schools in Britain doing well at the moment. "There is every reason for you to fail, mostly because of typecasting. ... There are also a handful of actors, contemporaries of mine, who are doing very well as actors and they're wonderful and talented actors, but aren't big, big stars like Tom and Eddie, Benedict. [And some of them have taken the point of view that,] 'Oh, now, they're getting in on the act. ... I was going to be that star, but that got taken by a guy who got a nice education.'"

He told two very touching stories about Band of Brothers, one about the episode in which Winters and his company discover a concentration camp. Lewis and the rest of the cast were not prepped or rehearsed for it, as he explained, their harrowed reactions were very real. The other was about watching the final ep and seeing Winters' lip quiver. "It was the first time I had seen him express any emotion about the second World War. ... When he recounts the story of one of his co-veterans being questioned by his grandson, and his grandson says to him, 'Grandpa, were you a hero in the war?' And his grandfather says, 'No, but I served in a company of heroes.' It's difficult not to well up now, and Dick, his lip just quivers and his voice chokes, and it's epic. ... It's like a crack in a slow-moving glacier. It's an extraordinary moment when he just shows that little bit of emotion, because he's not given to that as a man."

After it ended, Damianista approached the stage to talk with him while the rest of us hung back and watched. And she said one thing and another and he nodded and she said another and another. And then ... "Paige'll do it." And I said, "I don't know what it is, but Paige'll do it!"

At that point, I went up to them at the stage. Bless her heart, Damianista introduced me as a "big fan." I think then I tilted my head, so he could see I was wearing my Life cap (the title being on the back of the hat). Damian extended his hand, saying, "Hi, Paige, thank you for coming." I think I got a two-handed shake on that.

Anyway, I found out that the "it" was a quick video they wanted me to shoot for the anniversary of Damianista's blog. It was arranged that she would go to the lobby and be taken to Damian from there. Great! Except for the fact that she disappeared in the throng of the exiting crowd and I couldn't find her again.

Now I wasn't exactly panicking during this time, because Joyce was with me and we were marveling over my unexpected introduction to Damian. I really didn't feel I should push my way through the crowd, so we just made our way to the lobby when we could, and then looked all around without success for Damianista.

Eventually I did find her, and the video had already been shot. So that was kind of a bummer, but I will never think of this night as anything but a big win. Especially since Damianista is my walking .gif -- repeating "Hi Paige, thank you for coming" -- at will. Won't tire of that any time soon.

P.S. from P.S.: Click here to read the fab Fan Fun blog of the evening, and below, the interview I almost recorded. I have to say, I am quite sure this person did a better job than I would have, since my heart certainly would have been beating double-time and my hands shaking even more than that.

Cuddling up with 'The X-Files'

Just some words of wisdom to Wizard World attendees. You have someone you absolutely must see? Make sure you do the VIP treatment. Otherwise your day will be filled with stress and loathing.

Public service announcement over. And rest assured, our trek to Wizard World in Philadelphia ultimately has a happy ending. It was just the getting there that took some work and patience.

We were going to see The X-Files trio of David Duchovny (whom I had never met), Mitch Pileggi and William B. Davis. The latter two I have crossed paths with at other smaller cons, so David was the big get. I was a little nervous about him, he's so smart -- and as Mark rightfully says -- doesn't suffer fools lightly. I didn't want to be one of those irritating fans that makes him roll his eyes.

But I have to say, in all that I saw, David was warm and thoughtful with everyone who came up to him. Which was some feat, since it was hundreds of people in an hour span, with lightbulbs going off every 30 seconds in the photo op and items being thrust at him to sign every 30 seconds after that.

First was the photo op. And the VIPs lined up -- hundreds of them -- to go ahead of the regular folk like me. I was about 10th on the plebeian line, waiting patiently for my turn. At least until some ballsy woman stopped David after her picture was taken to have him sign his new book for her. The handlers tried to stop him, the photographer wasn't thrilled about the delay, everyone on line moaned and groaned. But he did it anyway.

So I might not have been in the best mood when it was my turn, especially with little time to get everything done according to David's show schedule. But that all dissipated in an instant. I think he said hello before I even could. And then I gave him some instructions -- "Cuddle ... cuddle!" And cuddle he did, that man can take direction. "Don't leave until I get your autograph," I said only half-kidding as I bid farewell.

Technology being what it is, people can pick up those photos upon exiting the booth. Well, we're supposed to anyway. I looked for mine and looked and looked and didn't find it. Then the worker pulling them out of the printer looked and looked, and then he had the guy at the computer looking for me to print it out again. He couldn't find it. Kept asking questions like "Did you have your glasses on or off?" and "Were you with someone else?" Finally it popped out one of the printers ... and it was good! I was shocked that it's one of the better ones I've taken.

But if I was cool and collected for the photo op, I probably was pretty much the opposite for the autograph portion of the program. Although Mark had staked out a place 10th on line while I waited for the picture, he was displaced for the VIP line. No matter long how he waited, we weren't going to be able to get a signature until all the VIPs went through, even if they arrived at the last second.

With everything so tightly managed -- photo op, followed by an hour of autographs, followed by the X-Files panel -- there wasn't a lot of time if things got stretched out. Since I had prepaid for the autograph and David wasn't signing after the panel, it was then or never. It started feeling like it was going to be never.

But eventually we did get to snake our way toward him. I did snare a nice 8x10 photo of David and Gillian from the table. Because I paid for an autograph and had my own item, I figured, hey, I paid for a photo, might as well get one, even if it remains unsigned.




I told David my name and as I was spelling it, he said there wasn't time for personalizing on my book because they were running late. That I understood. But it drove the rest of my prepared speech right out of my brain. I tried to say I was happy to get to meet him, but that came out in a jumbled mess that even I rolled my eyes at. He was such a gentleman, not bursting into laughter on the spot. And he did say, "Thanks for coming, Paige" as we departed.

Mark and I made our way to the Terrace Ballroom for the panel, which started late, ostensibly because David was busy wrapping up the other hundreds of autograph seekers. When he, Mitch and Bill finally took the stage, Mitch cracked everyone up by quipping that he had to pee. Which I also had to do by this time.

There wasn't a lot of new information (for me anyway) imparted during the panel, but the guys had a really nice rapport with each other that made it a lot of fun. They were each asked how they got their roles. David quickly piped in that he was having an affair with Mitch and that's how the latter became Skinner.

Bill told a story about how he originally was up for a role that had a couple of lines, but when he got his, it had no lines. But it all worked out for the best, Bill said. Except for the other guy, David added. Bill shot David a mock look of exasperation and berated him for stepping on the punchline.

Two kids were induced to ask questions by people who brought them to the event. They both showed some attitude and made everyone laugh. So much so, that David invited the second one, Max, to sit on the stage with them. And Max proceeded to make faces and react to things being said like a pro. David said someday when Max is on stage at a convention, someone will ask him how he got his start and he'll tell the story of being part of The X-Files panel.

Remember the David "doesn't suffer fools lightly" thing? Well, when a woman tried to get the trio to flesh out an answer by restating what she'd already said, David lightly chided her that her "question hadn't gotten any better." That was the kind of stuff I was looking to avoid.

And I was on one of the microphone lines soon after the session began, but alas, I wound up being too late. I was still about 10 questions away (five people in front of me on my side, five at the other mic) when the Q&A ended. I was fine with that, other than wishing that instead of the  gobbledygook that I said on the autograph line, I had told David how much his tribute to late director Kim Manners in the revival's "Mulder & Scully Meet the Were-Monster" episode meant to me.

Our last task of the day was to get Bill Davis to sign my X-Files yearbook, since I came up with that idea after I had already met and gotten his autograph elsewhere. The book's looking pretty sharp now, despite the absence of Gillian Anderson (who I have seen in person twice, both again before the yearbook project started). So I picked out the best Cigarette-Smoking Man pic I could find in the book and had him sign for me once again.

Truth is, though, it was a lot cooler to converse with him at that other convention, rather than push my book toward him and make a banal comment about his reactions to Max during the panel. The former drama teacher reiterated that actors should never work with children or animals. But more truth, we sure got a clear picture of the reasons why that's the case during the Q&A.

Only now do I realize that I should have pointed out the awesome Veronica Cartwright autograph in the book and asked him about working with her. That would have been a far better question.

What's next for The X-Files yearbook project? I truly hope it's the Lone Gunmen ... and I truly hope it's at Monster Mania or Chiller.

Night of 27 Stevies

All right, there were more than 27 Stevies if you count both those performing and those twirling around the Irving Plaza dance floor. Just nowhere near the Night of 1,000 Stevies that we expected at the 26th anniversary show. Not that the joint wasn't packed, the event was totally sold out.

I went with my Stevie Nicks sister Jenna, who I met many moons ago when "the queen of everything" conducted an in-person signing for live CD/DVD at Barnes & Noble in Union Square. We walked by that very spot while traveling to and fro the big show. Talk about symmetry!

Now Jenna had told me that I might feel uncomfortable if I didn't dress up for NOTS, since she fully expected the crowd to be mostly would-be Stevies and few mere mortals. We got the first inklings that wouldn't be the case when we arrived at Penn Station and didn't see any other Stevies. In fact, we didn't see any until we got to the venue.

But I decided to use raw materials I had around the house and do something in the spirit of Stevie, if not specifically go after a particular outfit -- Jenna looked smashing in her recreation of Stevie's "Stand Back" look. And I have to admit, I kind of was sauntering and sashaying around and feeling my inner Stevie while in costume.

The night, themed "Dark Daughters," was an array of videos, live and lip-synched performances and dance interpretations of Stevie songs, solo and with Fleetwood Mac. So we heard "Stand Back" about five or six times and "I Can't Wait" about five or six times over the course of the night. And we rocked out on them every single time.

We staked out a spot at the railing on the second floor so we could see everything and dance at the same time. It was a lot of fun to jam with the blonde wig on, especially after I acquired my tambourine. Actually the first of two tambos, because we rocked so hard with the first one that the Stevie picture fell off and disappeared. When I went for a replacement, they no longer had the variation I bought, so I wound with my second choice and we took it a little bit easier on that second one. (At least I found a picture of it -- inset below -- so I'll see it in my dreams.)

Speaking of dreams, we imbibed a bunch of them. "Dreams" was a specialty drink created for the night with vodka, club soda, a splash of raspberry and maybe something else. I can't recall, I had four of them.

I thought it was nice timing that this show was going on about two weeks after I saw Pearl Jam. In my mind, Pearl Jam represents my grounded, realistic side. Stevie and Fleetwood Mac, for me, has always been about my pie-in-the-sky, dare I say dream-like nature. But they're both me down to my toes.

There were three acts of musical performances, separated by 15-minute dreamy dance interpretations. I particularly liked the two-person grim reaper. Creepy but effective. Lots of funny moments and quips throughout the night, but the unintentional ones almost busted my gut, namely emcees attempting to throw tambourines to the audience on a couple of occasions. They didn't get very far. If you weren't standing on the general flour in five or six rows deep, it's probably safe to say you didn't get one that way.

Those who sang live did with varying degrees of success. Jenna kept breaking me up with choice comments. She likened one Stevie to Anna Nicole Smith, I never recovered from that over the length of her song. Then she said the one singing "Landslide" sounded like a Munchkin, and that's all I heard for the balance of the song. But some did stand out for me.

Best live performance: There were a lot of lovely renditions, from "Gold Dust Woman" to "Seven Wonders" and the surprise appearance of Orange Is the New Black's Lea DeLaria on "Kind of Woman." But my clear favorite was Lane Moore of It Was Romance killing it on "Silver Springs." My bar for that song is so much higher than for many other of her classics, so you can imagine how she brought down the house.

Best camp performance: Severely Mame with "Little Lies." That's a Fleetwood Mac song with "Christine McVie" on lead, but a huge spotlight stayed on the highest-haired "Stevie Nicks" I've ever seen (and that's saying something with this crew). So "Christine" got increasingly upset when the fans went wild for "Stevie" during the chorus and "Stevie" continued to curry favor with the crowd by playing to them through the rest of the song.



Least favorite performance: I'll have to go with "Crystal." A huge favorite of mine from both the Buckingham Nicks and Fleetwood Mac self-titled albums, I didn't like Bridget Barkan's take nor the unexplainable routine that went with it. I started twirling around and singing to myself so I didn't have to watch.

That reminds me, something unique about this night. Now in general at concerts, what I do is mouth words because I don't want to hear me above the people I paid to see (unless an artist calls for us to sing). And the people next to me certainly don't want to hear me above the people they paid to see. But at this show, it wasn't Stevie, it wasn't the Mac, so I pretty much felt comfortable with singing at the top of my lungs. And so did everyone else. What a blast to do that.

At one point, I was asked whether I liked the rest of Fleetwood Mac or just Stevie. And the duo that asked were surprised when I said I really did. Yeah, as a kid, Stevie was everything to me. But now that I'm older and allegedly wiser, Lindsey Buckingham and Christine McVie and Mick Fleetwood and John McVie mean as much to me as she does now.

It all culminated in "Battle of a Thousand Stevies," which wasn't so much a battle as 27 Stevies on stage gyrating to "Edge of Seventeen" with 27 Stevies and the 973 of us who remained five hours later following suit from the audience. There was one Stevie behind me trying to draw me into her web with some very exacting textbook Stevie moves. She definitely practiced in the mirror before coming to the show. 

One last thing. I want to be Christine next year. Or Lindsey.

Glorious NOTS photos courtesy of The Dusty Rebel at www.thedustyrebel.com

A subway car named Desire

You know when you have an event, but you're tired and cranky and it's the last thing you want to do that particular day? I was like that Friday. But I knew I'd later regret forever if I didn't go to see Gillian Anderson in Tennessee Williams' Pulitzer Prize-winning A Streetcar Named Desire at St. Ann's Warehouse in Brooklyn.

Streetcar had an acclaimed run in England in 2014, and Gillian got incredible notices for her turn as Blanche DuBois. The world knows her best as Special Agent Dana Scully from The X-Files, and she showed her chops on that show, but she's also given incredible performances in classic fare such as The House of Mirth and Great Expectations as well as in the British series The Fall in the ensuing years.

So it was really something I needed to see. I got my butt in gear and trained into the city and then rode the subway to St. Ann's, scenically located under the Brooklyn Bridge. It's an intimate venue, there were only two rows on my side of the stage. At times, the actors were so close in proximity, I felt like I was part of the scene.

The set itself was a very sparse rectangle -- no walls, just a kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom with a stairway just off the front door. The faucets run, the toilets mock flush. And it rotated -- for most of the show, that sucker was moving. And sometimes it works to your benefit. A number of key scenes were played right in front of me. In some others, I watched backs and just listened to the performances. That might not sound ideal on paper, but it really takes it to another level, making you experience it with other senses besides your eyes.

This interpretation of Streetcar gets a bit of a modern update in places. For example, Blanche's suitcase is a modern-day variation with wheels and music like PJ Harvey's "To Bring You My Love" and Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game" is used liberally during fades between scenes. But it doesn't come off as jarring at any point, unless you're a purist about that kind of thing.

Now the biggest and best compliment I have for Gillian Anderson is that there is no semblance of Gillian Anderson in the performance. She looks like her, and maybe more like her than any other character I have seen her play. The Southern accent was right on, it didn't waver and it was delivered with great strength and precise intonation. Despite the pathos in most of what Blanche has to say, Gillian tapped the humor of the lines, more than occasionally giving the audience a chance to blow off some steam. When she herself laughed, it didn't sound like the giggle we associate with Gillian, it was pure Blanche. Even when she's just watching others, she transfixes the audience. And we didn't "see" Gillian until the bows. It was perfect. Flawless.

Frankly, I don't know how she does it. Actors clearly aren't like the rest of us. Seven days a week, eight performances, she stands on a rotating stage in very high heels and gets herself to the most emotional places. It's a roller-coaster ride for Blanche, and us, in the process.

Ben Foster more than holds his own opposite her as neanderthalic Stanley Kowalski. Now Ben, I know him from teen fare ranging from Freaks and Geeks to Get Over It and he's always been an affable talent to me. As Stanley, he's buff and he's a man. Just like Gillian, he completely disappeared into the role. I was very much knocked out by him.

British actress Vanessa Kirby also gave a very fine performance as Stellllllllllllla. Except for one small part in an emotional part of the denouement, all I heard was the long-suffering sister/wife's voice. I didn't know of her before, now I look forward to seeing her in other avenues. The same holds true for Corey Johnson, quite endearing but not overly sappy for the appropriate amount of time as Mitch.

Before the show, I talked with some people who had already seen it. Kate from Melbourne, Australia had journeyed all the way to New York City just to see Gillian in the run. She wanted to watch the show from another viewpoint in the audience, and she ended up sitting next to me. Two other women had seen it the previous night, but felt compelled to come back right away.

After seeing it, I knew how they felt. I wanted to take it all in from a different place in the audience. I wanted to watch it with actor friends to get their takes on it. I wanted to see the cast do what seems so impossible -- just to be at that level of emotion throughout a three-hour, 20-minute show with very little letdown. I just wanted to be drawn in all over again.

So obviously I made the right choice to get off my keister and go to St. Ann's. (Oh yeah, I also want to see other productions there too.)

Garden party, hold the Avocado

There had been a lot of speculation ahead of Pearl Jam's second show at Madison Square Garden. The band had already done two full album shows -- Vs. on Record Store Day in Greenville, South Carolina, and Ten to represent their 10th sellout at the Wells Fargo Center in Philadelphia. As the second Garden show is traditionally considered an epic event, rumors ran rampant.

The early money was on the band's third effort, Vitalogy, which has yet to be performed in its entirety in concert. But that sort of fell by the wayside once people started realizing that May 2 was the 10th anniversary of the self-titled album, better known as Avocado. Then anyone and everyone expected that instead. Expectations rose to a fever pitch.

But Pearl Jam didn't play Avocado. In fact, they didn't play any songs from that release. Didn't make a reference to it at all. And that's why I love Pearl Jam. You never really know what they're going to do next.

My fondness for "setlist as art" started with Pearl Jam and Tori Amos in the '90s. I believe that the songs musicians -- and these one in particular -- play during any given concert are the ones that should be played. At this point, I wouldn't even want to recommend a song, if I was asked. Not that I am or anything.



Here's the canvas they painted that night: Corduroy, Mind Your Manners, Once, Animal, Given To Fly, Surrender (with Cheap Trick's Rick Nielsen and Tom Petersson), Small Town, Nothingman, Leatherman, Better Man/Save It For Later, Garden, Even Flow, Sirens, Deep, Jeremy, Leash, Do The Evolution
Encore: You've Got To Hide Your Love Away, All Or None, Pendulum, Present Tense, Breath, State Of Love And Trust, Porch
Encore 2: Last Kiss, Driven To Tears (with Sting), Lightning Bolt, Sonic Reducer, Alive, Baba O’Riley, Yellow Ledbetter/Star Spangled Banner

We were in fan club seats in Section 102, which is all the way across the arena lengthwise from the stage. Now in one of those archaic stadiums, that would seem pretty far, but the way the Garden seats angle forward, it didn't seem quite so bad. Not that I really noticed, for I was rocking out all night -- fast songs, slow songs, it didn't matter.

But first we met the other people in the row. I'll mostly skip over the part in which a couple who had apparently bought counterfeit tickets were ultimately removed, and go to the good stuff. On our left were two fans who had never been to a Pearl Jam show before. I told them to prepare to have their minds blown -- and it wasn't far into the show, maybe five or six songs when one of them leaned over and said, "You were right!"

It was actually a day in which I met a lot of cool fellow fans. Came in the city early to start the adventure, and on the train, I met Rob and Tasha -- who were name-checked by Ed Vedder during a show in San Diego in 2013 -- and their young son ... Eddie, of course! I was on the merch line by myself by a couple of hours, but after that almost fruitless wait, I meandered over to the Wishlist Foundation party at Madison Square Tavern and made new friends very quickly. Newer fan Noosh and veterans Greg and Guy ... it was just a good time talking about the band we all love so much and the shows we've been to. And then my Pearl Jam buddy, Liam, showed up -- I think I've seen four of my 10 shows with him now.

When we made our way over to the arena, I got my show poster and the last event t-shirt that might have been left in the building. Then I had avocado sushi in honor of the album's anniversary. I'm not an avocado eater by nature, but it was quite refreshing.

But not nearly as life-affirming as the set, which started off at full tilt with four rockers, including opener "Corduroy" -- which Liam was hoping for -- and "Once," one of my all-time favorites. That go-for- broke vibe nicely rolled into the always-transcendent "Given to Fly."



And then "the Garden Party," as Ed put it, got kicked up another notch when Mike McCready's buds from Cheap Trick -- Rick Nielsen and Tom Petersson -- came on board for "Surrender." A really nice surprise and early too, which seemed to be a recurring theme. A lot of songs I associate with being later in the setlist moved up front -- the "man trilogy" of "Nothingman," "Leather Man" and "Better Man" soon followed.

That didn't take me aback as much as the emotions I felt during "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town." That one really got to me, I'm quite sure I never had tears in my eyes during it before.

As mentioned earlier, this marked the 10th time I'd seen Pearl Jam live. Ed also said it was the 10th time they played the Garden. And we got a lot of tracks from the debut album of that name. "Garden," "Even Flow," "Deep" and "Jeremy" kept everyone's energy at a high level early, and later, the same was true with "Porch" and "Alive."

Got to experience "Sirens" for the first time live, and that's a real nice slow jam to sway along to. Then we rocketed to the end of the first set with "Leash" and "Do the Evolution." I was playing air guitar on my poster tube, that was a new one for me ... and Liam.

The gems were plentiful in the first encore, starting with Ed delivering a charming version of "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away" solo. The MSG crowd ate it up. Beautiful ballads "All or None" and "Present Tense" reverberated around the building with such grandeur. And then the piece de resistance, the one-two punch of the band's two songs on the Singles soundtrack, "Breath" and "State of Love and Trust." Again on the first, I got emotional. On the latter, I felt the irresistible beat in every atom of my being.


The second encore started off with the band facing the audience seated behind them, and I never mind that when it's "Last Kiss," a cover song that's not exactly my favorite. Liam and I dramatically were re-enacting the lyrics. There's just not a boring moment to be had at a Pearl Jam concert.

But, oh boy, what came next. I couldn't quite make out the vocals, but it sounded like a Police song. I said as much to Liam, and about 20 or so seconds later, he goes, "Yeah, 'cause there's Sting!" I wasn't even looking at the stage, so wrapped up was I in my dancing. But really a perfect selection when you consider Sting's involvement in world affairs and how that meshes nicely with Pearl Jam's ideals.

Then it was full speed ahead to the end, with the likes of "Lightning Bolt," "Sonic Reducer" and "Baba O'Riley." It's always toughest to hear "Yellow Ledbetter," 'cause you know it's closing time and you won't be running the gamut of emotions again until your next Pearl Jam show. Luckily, mine's in August at Fenway, but that just doesn't seem soon enough right now.

They blinded me with cinema

Tilda Swinton blinded me with her shoe.

Every great movie or book has a strong opening line. That'll probably be the best one I ever write. But I digress.

The occasion was the TimesTalks conversation with Ralph Fiennes, Swinton and writer/director Luca Guadagnino at Florence Gould Hall. And as I was the ninth person on line, I wound up in the front row. The two men behind me apparently didn't queue up and wormed their way into the second row. They were pretending to chat with Swinton in a most overwrought and pretentious way, with high inflection and a born-to-the-manor air -- "Oh, Tilda, you're so right."

As they hadn't been on line, they didn't get the index cards for writing down a question for the panel, so they kept on practicing what they would say to her when a microphone came down into the audience. They were aghast when a voice from above told everyone to pass their questions to the right. And when the program didn't start on time, they kept "talking" with her ... and then started blaming Ralph Fiennes for being a  diva who was making them wait for Swinton. Stop right there, buddies. If they had been paying any kind of attention, they might have noticed that people weren't in the reserved seats yet -- and thusly were probably doing some kind of preshow meet-and-greet with the trio.

I've loved and respected both these actors for a long, long time. Fiennes, of course, goes back to Schindler's List and Quiz Show and Oscar and Lucinda and The English Patient. Swinton was a force never to be forgotten in the gender-changing opus Orlando and thank the heavens she didn't just disappear or fade away after that. She rightfully took home a supporting actor Oscar for her dynamic role in Michael Clayton.

Backtracking again... When you're in line in New York City, you're invariable asked what the line is for. I enunciated very clearly -- as "Rafe Fines" -- and the gentleman inquirer retorted, "Oh, I love Ralph Fines." I'm still bemused how one can get pronunciation of the first name wrong if you're getting the second half correct.

With the reserved patrons in their seats and a clear vantage point of the statuesque Swinton standing in the wings, the panel was finally introduced. I'll never be able to know for sure, because the TimesTalks video starts with them already in their seats, but I think Ralph took note of my The Grand Budapest Hotel shirt of the infamous "Boy with Apple" painting.

Guadagnino did one of the coolest things. He sat down and noticed the flowers perched on the table next to him. He touched one of the petals on one flower, as many of us might, but then he touched another flower and another and another. That's so directorial.

What brought the three of them together was the upcoming movie A Bigger Splash, loosely adapted from the 1969 flick La Piscine. And when I say loose, I mean loose. The team of Guadagnino and Swinton really reworked the premise. Tilda plays Marianne, a huge rock star who has undergone one of those operations that prevent her from speaking. That affords Swinton a lot of time and space to speak volumes without actual words, a talent she excels at.

Meanwhile, Fiennes gets to be big and bombastic as Harry, filling in all the verbal spaces. When New York Times writer and moderator Cara Buckley pointed out that the role is a radical change for him and the character "unfettered," Ralph quickly quipped that he had previously been known "for being fettered."

But in a more serious vein, he added that for years he had longed to have been offered the kind of parts that Luca -- and Wes Anderson with GBH -- brought to him.

"I think somewhere inside me, there was an inner Harry waiting to be released," he said. "I was always asked to be angst-ridden, troubled people. I feel very lucky that Luca and Wes saw the light."

Swinton loves to take roles that delve into the difficulties of communications. And she's found a cinematic soulmate in Guadagnino, after she lost that kind of relationship with the passing of writer/director Derek Jarman. In regards to this particular film, since she was still dealing with the passing of her mother, she found she really didn't want to speak that much and thus discovered something authentic in not having to verbalize every single word or intention.

Somewhere along the line, the buckle of Tilda's finely crafted shoe caught a spotlight and totally blinded me. I looked away, but I was seeing flashes and bubbles for a few minutes. I hope she was aiming for the Swintonites behind me.

We saw four clips of the film, filmed on the lush but highly charged Italian island of Pantelleria. I found myself watching Tilda and Ralph watching themselves and interacting with each other more than what was on the screen. Luca, meanwhile, wasn't looking at the little monitor in front of him, he was viewing on the big screen behind them. Even if you had no idea who this man was, just from seeing him on the stage, you would peg him as a director.

Swinton was aghast at giving spoilers as the panelists talked more and more about the details of the film. Dakota Johnson plays Fiennes' newly found daughter, and her motives -- and Harry's possibly reactions to her -- are a bit nebulous. Luca was thrilled to have found her late in the process, he had seen a lot of actresses but no one who could really fit into the part.

Then there's another fly in the ointment -- Paul (Matthias Schoenaerts). Not only is he Marianne's lover, but Harry brought them together in the first place. Now, years later, he's apparently kind of changed his mind about that.

The audience question portion was left off the TimesTalks video, and mine was not posed (although since there were quite a few references to GBH, I think the moderator may have decided Wes Anderson was well covered territory at that point.)

But Ralph did address his future on Broadway. It doesn't look like his highly touted The Master Builder will make it to the Great White Way after a successful run in England. Richard III, one of his dream roles and definitely one that I won't miss, seems like it will come to pass but hasn't been firmed up yet.

Tilda seemed thoroughly embarrassed when she had to read one of the audience's question, "What's an extraterrestrial goddess like you doing on a planet like this?" Her response was perfect -- just existing like everyone else.

Still, no matter what, I always seem to get back to extraterrestrials.