Please let the stagehand strike end soon . . .

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for the sake of Broadway’s financial status.

But in the meantime I am pleased and proud of what’s happening outside the Eugene O’Neill every evening.  Don’t worry I’ve heard great stories about casts of other shows, too.
But every night when the actors, etc all have to report for half an hour, they gather and sing outside the stage door.  Where they are usually greeted by fans after a day of rehearsing, a fight call, and a spirited performance, instead they jam.  What else could we expect of the young lively bunch that they are?  I just love hearing the harmonies sans heavy instrumentation and in such close proximity.  Making the best of a bad situation– definitely.

Johnny’s got his ukulele, and scruff that comes closer to a beard daily.  Matt is rockin’ out with his coffee cup.  All of them sound and look well rested, which is nice.  Such a sad way to get a vacation.
But oh, they make me smile.
There are no shows to see, and yet I am tempted to drive up and visit this strange city.
New York when the lights of Broadway are so dim  . . .

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