I spent the morning doing errands. A morning of errands at home might be a trip to Jiffy Lube or dropping something off at the library. Over here a morning of errands is buying train tickets to France, topping up my phone, or buying passes to castles. In the end, it’s basically the same thing. Gotta be done! But when I finished errands I found myself near Regent’s Street, so I worked my way over to Carnaby Street for some window shopping.
In between the shows they kicked us all out, which was fine since we were starving. Our friendly little usher - remember her? – recommended Leon’s, a little nearby deli that I have never been to. They create little boxed lunches for you; I had some Morroccan meatballs. While there I also used the ladies bathroom and caused some panic in the kitchen over a cup of chocolate mousse.
We were first in line for Part Two. You have to line up at the Globe if you want to get the best seating; and by that I mean the best standing. The goal is to get up against the stage so you can rest against it. It’s nice to lean on something. So, by golly, we were there 90 minutes early, camped out at the head of the queue. We entertained ourselves by making up games and doing Little Britain impersonations.
Do you know this gentleman? Is he your husband or father? You should know that he walks up to strange women, in this case Alta, and tells them to “mind” their “boobs.” Will you please help him learn that this is inappropriate?
Do you know this gentleman? Is he your husband or father? Maybe your uncle? Well, just so you know: HE BUTTS IN LINE. He thinks no one sees, he assumes no one notices. Well, we did. Listen, we didn’t wait in line for an hour and a half so your Uncle Chester could butt in line. Will you let him know please, thanks.
Henry IV Part Two is not the exciting conclusion to Part One. It feels like a completely different play because it basically is. It tells a whole new story. But it’s all the same characters from Part One and it was fun to see the same actors in both productions so we got a nice sense of continuity. And our proximity to the stage gave us the opportunity to be vomited on (twice), winked at, peed near, and spilled on. It’s very interactive in the sense that you come away slightly soiled. Again, superlative acting, thoughtful and inventive direction. So much fun, and how great to see a play that is rarely performed done with such integrity and passion. It made the 90 minute wait all the more worth it.
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Do you know this gentleman? Is he your husband or father? Maybe your uncle? Well, just so you know: HE BUTTS IN LINE. He thinks no one sees, he assumes no one notices. Well, we did. Listen, we didn’t wait in line for an hour and a half so your Uncle Chester could butt in line. Will you let him know please, thanks.
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On the tube ride home I read a poem that had been taped up inside the car. It's by Gillian Clarke, and it somehow felt appropriate:
Exultation! Salutation
to the long midsummer days,
to the light lost by the minute,
sing, and sing the dark away.
In the park the lovers listen,
blackbird's last song of the day.
Bats are scribbling verse on twilight.
Owls are calling, Kyrie.
Soon a gathering of swallows,
like a stanza on a wire,
voices rising in crescendo,
in hall and stadium and choir.
In the theatre of summer
stars ascending in their arc,
company and conversation.
Sing, and sing away the dark!