Humidity, Heat, and Harry Potter

I made a few interesting discoveries when I woke up Monday morning:

1. My hair is curly--not curly like it used to be in Utah, but CURLY curly. My straightener and I are defenseless against the humidity. Since there's no fighting it, I threw my hair on top of my head this morning and let those curls go wild and free!

2. The CM Residence is air condition-less. I needed a fan or I was going to become--pardon the image!--a human waterfall of sweat. *Shudder*

3. Not many of the girls here at the nunnery actually attend breakfast. Luckily, I spotted my three new friends from Argentina and Uruguay on Monday morning and took the fourth seat at their table. Over porridge and fruit, they taught me how to say glass ("vaso"), plate ("plato"), and "mucho gusto." Orina, the girl from Uruguay, gave me some handy New York tips and sent me off after breakfast to a nearby grocery store (according to her, the cheapest one in Manhattan). I was glad to find that the prices are pretty comparable to Boston prices.

I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon unpacking, exploring the Lincoln Center, and wandering around a three-story Bed, Bath, and Beyond in the sort amazed stupor that only a small-town girl can muster. I rode up and down the escalators there twice. . .mostly so that I could feed my shopping cart into the "shopping-cart-only" escalator and watch it magically rise or fall to the next level on its own. I came away from the experience fully equipped to battle any New York discomforts. I bought a big fan for my room, a small fan to carry with me in the city, lots of clothing hangers (child-sized; they're cheaper!), soothing creme for my mosquito bites, and padded shoe inserts. New York, give me your worst! This girl is armed and ready.

Later, my friend Evie and I went to a Memorial Day dinner at her bishop's home. There I made several new friends, including the bishop's chatty doorman, a ward member who writes and records music for an off-Broadway show, and Amirfarbod, a young man from Iran who has been a member of the church for less than a year. The rest of his family is still in Iran, but he's worried about going back for fear of physically endangering his family and himself. At the moment, his brother is privately investigating the church in Iran. I also met Kat, a native New Yorker who converted to Mormonism from Judaism just a couple of years ago. (Guess how her interest in the church was initially piqued? Via the very television series that makes most Mormons sigh and shakes their heads: Big Love! If that's not poetic justice, I don't know what is.) Kat's a Broadway guru, and she suggested that I see How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.

"Daniel Radcliffe is amazing as Finch!" she raved. Somehow, I couldn't quite picture The Boy Who Lived singing and dancing in a musical from the 60's, but--hey!--why not give him a chance?

*****

It's Tuesday night, and I just got back from How to Succeed. I went expecting good, and I came out thinking, "Great!"

There was nothing not to love about this sweet, energetic classic, brimming with eminently hummable Frank Loesser tunes. . .nothing, that is, besides all the 60's-era secretary/businessman stereotypes and stale jokes. It was all so good-natured and well-done, though, that I forgave the plot its sexism. The actors obviously had too; I've rarely seen a cast enjoying themselves so much onstage!

If I had to assign this show a color, that color would be cotton candy pink. If I had to assign it a depth, that depth would be a couple of inches, maybe. But although this was just fluff, it was fun fluff, and it was smart fluff too. Thanks to snappy choreography, bright costumes, and intelligent performances, the production really popped artistically. And who do you think held the starring role (and pulled it off, I might add, with an impeccable American accent)? Daniel Radcliff, that's who! And yes, I got him to sign my program at the stage door afterwards. The boy who immortalized Harry Potter on the big screen looked up at me for a split second (up because he's about a foot shorter than I am), took my program, and handed it back just as I was engulfed in a sea of screaming girls.

I don't think I've ever been stuck in a mass of squealing 14-to-21-year-olds like that. (I haven't been to many pop concerts. Any, actually.) I even saw one girl wiping away tears. But celebrity status aside, Daniel Radcliffe totally deserves to be giving out autographs. His comedic timing is spot on, his voice is great for the part, and boy, can that kid dance! Plus, he was just so darling up there on stage that I wanted to give him a big squeeze. I think the entire audience was rooting whole-heartedly for him to succeed in business--both as a character and as an actor! The rest of the cast was solid, too (with several Tony-nominated stand-outs), and the chorus numbers were a series of show-stoppers.

Best of all, I walked home after the show in less than twenty minutes. It was a cheap, no-hassle experience. Does life get any better for a die-hard lover of Broadway?