In many ways, I envy John Dill. One of the great summers of my life was spent living in Manhattan when I was 27. I was interning at Manhattan Theatre Club, and subletting an apartment for $300 for the entire summer. Skip down if you don't want the story about how that happened. I was living in Cincinnati, and my friend Howard had graduated from Columbia Law School, so he took me to New York to look for an apartment. We stayed with friends of his, a married couple, who spent the entire weekend setting us up with girls. The first night, I declined, but ended up going with Howard and his blind date, and his married friends anyway. I was the fifth wheel. Howard's date was the understudy for Fantine on Broadway, and so my lawyer friend had trouble coming up with things to talk about, but she and I had a GREAT time. We went to dinner in Greenwich Village and then to a jazz club. And Howard paid for all of his date's expenses. This was my first night in Manhattan and I was loving it.
The next day, Sunday morning, the married couple set us up with a couple of other girls (I was more confident in their ability to find good dates for me in New York, and so I agreed). We ended up taking a couple of girls on a tour of Lincoln Center, and we had a great time.
But so far, I hadn't looked for an apartment. That afternoon, we went to church, and standing in the foyer was a classmate from BYU. I told him I was interning at Manhattan Theatre Club in the summer and he said, "Hey, I have a fellowship in San Diego this summer. Want to sublet my apartment?" I said, "How much?" He said, "I don't know. $300?" I said, "Sure."
And so I always tell my kids, "Go to church. Even when you're out of town."
But as good as my weekend was, it didn't even come close to how great that summer was.
And now I'm in a theatrical mood, so I want to ask the academy to remember Anne, with an E. For your consideration...
10 comments:
Oh, Mary!
Oh, John Dill!
Oh, Mary!
Oh, John Dill!
This is, indeed, "bittersweet." John Dill is gone forever, and Mary is staying behind to continue her Agenda Of Meddling at Charterstone.
Sweet in that we will finally be rid of John Dill, the character who never was permitted to go by anything but his entire name, and we can be done with a plot about, of all things, cake decorating.
Bitter in that we know we have until Monday for a new plot since there will have to be a recap with Toby on the jogging trail, a goodbye party at the condo poolside, and at least a few platitudes and quotes from oddly-chosen sources.
I love Wanders true life tales stories. Maybe I am a bit of a voyeur, but I like having that additional amount of "investment" in the communal space of MW&M.
I wish I had a New York story. I've never been. Just reading the word "jazz club" makes me green with envy.
My wife grew up in Rhode Island and tells of chartered bus trips into the city around the holidays for shopping and seeing the Christmas show at Radio City. I'm not so jealous of that because it sounds like it would involve a busload of Mary Worths complaining about how dirty the streets are, or telling stories about how New York is full of thieving junkies who will snatch your purse and give you a disease by looking at you funny.
Maybe there is still hope for this country mouse.
Wanders, thank you for relating your youthful tale. I expect that John Dill's adventure in NYC will not strike the same sweet chord (not by a long shot).
Yeah, yeah, parting is such sweet sorrow, yadda yadda. John and Mary remind me of the "John and Marsha" routine by the inimitable Stan Freberg. If only we could hear MW and JD do this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=08T8Dt9tnFk
(Just listen to the audio.)
The "bittersweet" reference gives us a clue as to the secret recipe for pinkcake--beets and rhubarb.
So John Dill will proceed to pack up his pink cake tins and Eleanor's sugarbowl urn, put sugar-Mary on his dashboard, and head off cross-country (in February) for the East Coast. Good luck with those mountains.
Ah, Johnny, we hardly knew ye! Not that we really wanted to.
Mary's car is really cool. It's like one of those jet cars we should all be driving now if futuristic movies of the 50s and 60s had come true. Is it a hovercraft? Is it saucer shaped? Did she steal it from Tomorrowland?
"Go to New York without me. I'll cheer you on from home as you fulfill your dream." (I wonder if anybody said that to Joe Buck of Midnight Cowboy. I wonder if John Dill's dreams of New York include all those New York ladies flinging themselves at an available budding cake star. Everybody's talkin' at me......)
And so I always tell my kids, "Go to church. Even when you're out of town." :) Love it!
True life adventures and lessons for our youth.
It just occured to me that so far, all we've heard is New York, not New York City. How do we know that Chef Pierre is not based in Buffalo or Poughkeepsie?
So glad Mary was able to maneuver her Cessna up to the Terminal to drop John off. Don't forget to take your dignity from the overhead before departing John Dill!
@Toots: I've heard Albany has a happenin' cake scene. Also, (re: Midnight Cowboy), we can only hope that tomorrow starts with Ratso Rizzo pounding on the hood/nose of Mary's car/plane/amphibious assault vehicle, shouting "I'm walkin' here! I'm walkin' here!"
Listened to an old radio broadcast of My Friend Erma. In this episode she wants to learn how to cooks and signs up for a class with Chef Pierre. She lives in NYC!!!
OMG. Is this the same chef? He must be as old as Mary is now. 120+ years.
Sure, John Dill is sad now, but he'll forget all about Mary (and his dead wife, too) as soon as he gets to New York and meets Lola, in a club down in old Soho. Where they bake pinkcake that tastes just like cherry throw-up. T-H-R-O, throw-up.
Post a Comment