New York Chronicle VI (P.S. as it were)

I have been remiss in relating to you one of the most thrilling, and momentous happenings of my sojourn in New York, and therefore I must beg the forgiveness of the several people from whom I have recieved complaints. Yes, I know that I have surprised you. After all, this blog has been entirely taken over in the past months with the business of relating my New York experiences. How could I possibly have more to say? Brace yourselves.

I began Chronicle number IV with every intention of mentioning this little trifle--but somehow managed to become carried away on the tide of my delight in expressing so many other things. I will now do so:

Manhattan. Yes the very same city the wonders of which so many singers have sung, so many writers have written. It is all that you have heard--and much, much more. In the harbour, a great lady stands, the simble of our liberty, watching in proud silence the thriving business of The City. She seems a guard of sorts--but a defiant one, daring any to try and extinguish the flaming torch in her hand. A massive bronze bull is in the square on Wall Street. Intimidating to say the least. Little Italy is enchanting--there are resturants everywhere, and they almost always spill out onto the sidewalk. China Town is a bit of a shock, suddenly signs are written in Chinese characters, and you feel as if you just stepped into downtown Hong Kong. The Brooklyn Bridge has a special place in my heart. Built at the turn of the last century, its great, slightly pointed arches and sweeping lines are simply exquisite.

Now, let us pause for a moment as I take a deep breath.

There is one thing I wanted to do. There is one thing I wanted to do very, very much. I went to see a Broadway show. No. I went to see a Broadway Musical! Never did I dream that I would be given such a grand opportunity--but there it is, my program sitting demurely on my dresser at this very moment to bear witness that it truly did happen. A dear lady with a fabulous New York accent (one of the elders wives), purchased tickets for Sarah and I when she discovered towards the end of my stay that I enjoyed theatre. We took the train into the city and dissembarked at Penn Station. As we emerged from the semi-dim depot and up into the light of day, my first sight was tall buildings. Everywhere. Very tall buildings. I couldn't keep the smile of delight from stretching my face. We walked to Broadway, the stretch of street that harbors many historic theatres, and made our way to the entrance of the New Amsterdam Theatre. Very historic. Extreemly breathtaking. We walked through the long foyer, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from the stunning portraits that lined both walls. Picture after picture of famous stage entertainers of the past greeted my reverent gaze. Wonder piled upon wonder as at last I entered the theatre itself. The sight that greeted my eyes was simply stunning. Everywhere I looked I saw frescos, carvings, paintings--the walls and ceiling were covered with them. When I got over my initial amazement, I was able to notice a large balcony, an even larger pit, and several boxes on each side. Someday I'll get a box seat. As it was, Mrs. Warnock had aquired for us third row seats on the left side. Outragiously wonderful.

The show was the hit musical, "The Lion King". Lets just say, I'm spoiled for life. I'll never be able to appreciate a high school production in quite the same way. *Ahem* It was world class. And brilliant, and one of the most enjoyable of any trivial experience I have ever had. The singing was out of this world, as was the dancing, acting, etc. The actors actually traveled to Africa to study how to move like animals. I thought initially that I might see a guy in a lion suit running around stage roaring idiotically. I couldn't have been more wrong. It was way beyond what I could ever have imagined. I wish somehow I could get inside your minds and show it to you like a slide show. There is really no way to communicate such a phenominon.

I hope that in some way you may have caught a glimmering of the glory of this experience. If you did then perhaps there is hope for me as a writer after all. Loves!