I’m glad My Kid is not yet a tween. That would be tiresome. I thought she would be interested in the local preparations for the VH1 DIVAS special was filmed just down the street at the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM). For two days blockades have been going up and by 4:00 yesterday flocks of uniformed police officers had arrived to control the expected crowds and protect the “Diva’s”. Some of them, Miley Cyrus and Jordin Sparks for example, and are still in high school. (Personally I think a Diva has to have a larger and longer body of work –But who am I to have an opinion about pop culture, I’m just a mom.) When we got off the subway at Atlantic Center My Kid didn’t want to walk past BAM to check out the preparations. While flipping channels later in the evening she wasn’t interested in watching the show that was taking place just down the street even though she perked up at the mention of Miley Cyrus. She looked up and then went back to what she was doing. No thrill for her at the 6-degrees-of-separation from all those stars just down the street in the ‘hood of my jaded little New Yorker.
Tag: Miley Cyrus
Packing
07/30/09
I’m drinking my coffee and trying to pull my brain together to get My Kid and I packed and ready to go. The Husband is packed and working. My Kid is still sleeping.
I’m counting the hours and looking around the apartment listing what needs to be done. It’s 9 am. We need to be getting into a car service car at 5 pm. Some friends of My Kid will be at a local pool at 11:00 am. I’d like her to join them but I don’t know if I will be able to make that happen.
Woah! And I’m back!
My Kid is still asleep. My plan for focusing by making a packing list in my blog has fallen apart.
Now My Kid is awake and hungry and watching Hannah Montana. It’s an episode from the first season and it makes me want to cry the way Miley Cyrus and Emily Osmet don’t look that much older than my daughter and her friends do now.
Too many clothes in my carry-on already and I know I’m going to be cold in Montana. It’s so hot and muggy here in Brooklyn it’s really hard to remember to pack long sleeves and long pants. Maybe I’ll just plan to buy a new pair of jeans when I’m home.
We’ve got the good pilot
I have been a weepy mess, tearing up several times a day, ever since Captain Chesley B. “Sully” Sullenberger ditched a US Airways jet safely in the Hudson River last Thursday. The cinema-cheesy symbolism went straight to my core and I am convinced that the United States of America is an airplane and Barack Obama is the cool, calm Carey Grant/Sidney Poitier/Jimmy Stewart type genius pilot who is going to save us all. Or not. Everything makes me tear up. Boats. Airplanes. People asking me what kind of coat I have because they need to buy a warm one before they leave for Washington, DC for the Inauguration. Twitters from friends who are on their way to DC or already in DC. Martin Luther King Day. Fresh snow. Civil Rights Movement veterans on CNN. My husband telling me Obama chose a Nobel prize winning physicist as his energy secretary. Listening to “This American Life”. Miley Cyrus in a grown-up red dress. Malia and Sasha Obama taking pictures of Miley Cyrus. My 8-year-old rolling her eyes because I am tearing up because I am watching both my kid and Malia Obama mouth the words to the Disney tween songs they both know by heart. Reading the Inauguration Parade lineup that includes both the Crow Nation of Montana and the Brooklyn Music and Arts Program. I’m just sitting here with my seatbelt on looking out the window at the water putting all my faith and hope in the pilot as my life flashes before my eyes and I pray for a safe landing: Ourfatherwhoartinheavenhallowedbethynamethykingdomcomethywillbedone-onearthaseitisinheavengiveusthisdayourdailybreadandforgiveusourtrespasses-asweforgivethosewhotrespassagainstusandleadusnotintotemptation-anddeliverusfromevil-AMEN
Oh My Toe!…Why I Walk So Slow
Yesterday after the matinee, I decided to walk across Central Park and go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art by myself (instead of meeting up with The Husband and My Kid to see the new movie “Bolt” with the voice of Miley Cyrus. My Kid needs to see it opening weekend. Me I can wait…) But, I didn’t enjoy myself, my feet hurt and I was tired and wandered around the museum without purpose. By the end of the day I knew I was coming down with something.
Monday is the traditional day off in the theatre world. I either have the standard “show-is-opened-and-now-I-have-time-to-be-sick” or I have the standard seasons changing cold. This week it got cold, really cold, find the hats and mittens, get the down coats out of the back closet cold. This too seems to trigger illness in the city because of all sudden changes from hot buildings to cold streets to damp steamy trains–YUCK get me out of here. Husband and I have noticed that since we moved to New York City the germs we’re exposed to cause much more spectacular illnesses than anything we ever experienced “Out West”.
So anyway, the show opened yesterday. It was fun. There were tiny personages in the audience who didn’t know what to make of what we were doing.
When My Kid was tiny, we took her to see the Big Apple Circus and she watched Justin Case the trick cyclist and acrobat ride the bike that kept falling apart and she took it in totally straight. She carefully watched a grownup do something, ride a bike, which she could not do but would learn someday. She had no history with bicycles. She did not know it was unusual for a bike to be ridden in a handstand, or turn into a unicycle. Adults laughed. My kid did not.
It’s tough to be the one to introduce a child to the concept of theatre.
Miley Cyrus is still a kid
As My Kid watches the annoyingly juvenile “Disney Channel Games”, I can’t help but think of the people who made such a big fuss about Miley Cyrus and her too adult Vanity Fair photo shoot—so that she was forced to pull out of this age-appropriate summer campy televised activity. She seemed to genuinely enjoy being on a team last summer. Too bad.