Radiator Update

I just got off the phone with the landlord.

Again.

This time, I said, "No, YOU listen to ME. I am NOT your ENEMY."

He seemed to listen to me this time.

They SWEAR the radiator CAN'T run 24/7.

I'm here today to tell you that, somehow, it can. And it did.

But seeing as how it just shut off (holy COW! It SHUT OFF!), I was finally able to stand before that little metal doggie-door to HELL and screw the knob as far to the righty-tighty as I possibly could. I doubt that will stop the evil thing. But I'm not going down without a fight.

I'll take the freezing temperatures.


In other news. While talking on my cell phone to the landlord, I got crapped on by a bird. But not just once. Twice. What are the odds?

I feel like a winner.

Radiator

What nightmares are made of

Last night I got really hot in my little New York studio apartment.

REALLY hot.

I'd noticed that, for about two days, the little radiator in the corner had not stopped hissing. Normally, those stupid things go on and off somewhat unpredictably and you spend the winter stuck in this sweat/freeze cycle as the thing bangs to life and blasts your room with waves of heat just after you've gotten all comfortable and cozy under three blankets. The blankets and Snuggie come off, the radiator shuts down, and the room returns to its natural state of iciness.

But this winter in NYC has been a little different. For all the snow we've had, it's also been unseasonably warm in between storms. Yesterday was one of those days that felt sort of like a chilly spring day.

And yet, my radiator was running FULL BLAST. Hissing. All. Day. Long.

I came home from church and was quickly forced to peel my clothing off due to the fact that I was, almost immediately dripping with sweat and having trouble breathing.

By evening, I decided enough was enough. I had heard people talking about their radiators a few days earlier. Apparently, (and this was news to me) the little knob on the side of the blasted thing can actually be TURNED. This either opens or closes the thing so you can decide if you want a little randomly erupting volcano in your apartment or if you'd rather play it old school and take a chance with the elements.

I touched the knob of the hissing radiator quickly. Yep. Pretty hot. Looks like I'll need a towel or something. Ow! One towel isn't gonna cut it. This thing is HOT.

My hands awkwardly covered with a towel and a thick pair of exercise pants, I began turning the knob.

Now which way is it? Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey. But is that right TOWARD me? Or right in relation to the KNOB? Hmm. This thing sure feels loose--

BLAM!

The knob flew across the room and high-pressure, boiling-hot steam LOUDLY blasted out of the radiator and singed my hands.

And it wasn't stopping.

Think quickly. You've got to plug up that hole.

I can't plug up the hole. There's hot steam coming out of it and a frightening rate. And it's LOUD.

I don't care. You HAVE to plug it up or stop it somehow.

Okay, okay. Uhh...holy crap. The apartment is getting really full of steam.

Yes it is. Quick. Stop THINKING and open the window as wide as it can go.

Done. Whoa! It's like a sauna in here! There's so much steam I can't see anything!

Don't just stand there! Open the door too!

Okay! Okay. That's a little better, but the steam is still blasting out of the radiator.

Find that knob and try to put it back on.

What? Are you crazy? How am I supposed to do that??

You HAVE to do that!

Uhh...okay. There's the knob. It's cool enough that I can hold it without burning myself...

Get that towel and maybe something else to cover your hand while you do this!

Okay. Here goes--bwahhh! It's like trying to stop the flow of a stream of water! I'm getting hot steam in my face!

Almost there!

THERE. It's back in. Sort of. But there's a lot of pressure behind it.

Whatever you do, don't let it go.

BLAM!

What are you waiting for? Call the super!

Yes! The super! I'll call him! Let me go outside. He won't be able to hear me over the noise of the steam.



Did you call him?

Yes! I told him it was an emergency but he didn't believe me! He said he'd come check it out tomorrow morning.

What??

I begged him to PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE come down NOW and check out what was going on! That this was a MAJOR EMERGENCY for the entire building! He finally sighed and said he'd come down here in a few minutes.

What??

Yeah. I know. Holy cow. There's the neighbor. He looks concerned that something bad may be happening to our building.

You might ask him if he knows what to do.

No dice. He's now standing in my doorway, looking at the steam and smoking a freakin' cigarette. Great. Now I've got steam AND smoke in here!!

Jerk!

Holy crap! My new TV! My computer!! They're being STEAMED!

Steam rises! Put the TV flat on the floor NOW!

DONE! Holy crap! I just paid it off YESTERDAY and now THIS happens! It's going to be destroyed! I just know it!

You can't win, Fork.

I can't! Oh man! There's the super! He's got a look of fear and horror in his eyes!

He didn't believe you! He's a jerk too!

He believes me now though. And...oh no.

What is it?

He doesn't speak English.

Quick! Use sign language! Pantomime!

I am! I am! I think he's starting to understand!

Quick! Where's the knob?

Here!

Give it to him!

Okay! He's got the knob back in!

BLAM!

It came out again! Oh GAWD, what am I gonna DO??

You could always call 911.

That's a dumb idea. What are they going to do? It's not a fire. Why can't this stupid super go down and turn off the boiler??

I don't think he understands how it works.

Wait, he said he'd be right back. He's leaving.

Well, you can't just stand there while your apartment gets steamed! Try to plug it up until he gets back!

Okay--OW! The knob is freakin' HOT.

TRY!! You have to TRY!

All right! I'll do it!

Did you get it? The hissing seems to have stopped.

YES. It's in. I'm holding it here but it's not on right. It's plugging the hole but I can't screw it on. Oh man. I'm not moving. I'm going to stay RIGHT HERE all night. I can't let this come off again. When the super gets back, I'll BEG him to go down to the basement and turn off the boiler so we can screw the knob back on without getting third degree burns.

Smart move.

The super is back. No, Pancho, everything is NOT fine. Go to the basement and TURN OFF THE BOILER.

He doesn't understand you. He just stood there and blinked.

Great. This is just great. I'm just going to sleep here tonight and hold the knob. I'm not letting this thing go again.

He looks like he's got a new knob.

It looks exactly like the old one. What difference will that--? NO! No. I'm not chancing it. What if he can't get the new knob on? What if one of us gets seriously burned?? We're not equipped to deal with something like this!

He looks pretty confident. Maybe you should trust him.

Maybe he should just TURN THE FREAKIN' BOILER OFF!

I don't think that's going to happen. Unless you know the Spanish word for boiler.

Boilerema? Boileremo? Boilamento?

Nope. Not working.

Okay. You're right. I'm giving it to him. But I can't bear to watch. I'm going downstairs to the front until this is all over.



I can't hear the steam blast anymore.

Do you think it stopped?

There's Pancho. Ask him.

He said, "Is good." Oh thank GOD. I was afraid he was going to say, "Is bery bad."

So the ordeal is over, huh? You can rest easy.

Not quite. The radiator is still running full-blast. It's not turning off.

Don't those things usually cycle on and off?

Yes. But this one isn't doing that at all. It's been hissing like this for two days straight and it's boiling hot in here.

At least the steam has stopped though.

Yes, that's true.

It was like that episode of I Love Lucy.

Yeah. But--shut up, this is serious. Now what do I do?

Sleep with the windows open and all your fans on. You can call the landlord tomorrow.

Oh man. This was the most horrible...I'm going to have nightmares about this.

Why?

Because I felt so helpless. It was so awful and there was no sign of it stopping. All that steam. No way to stop it... I mean...look. There are burn marks all over the towel I used to hold the knob in place.

It was a nightmare.

Yes, it was a nightmare. And on one level it still IS. What if Pancho didn't get the knob back in all the way? What if it blows out again while I'm sleeping? The radiator isn't cycling on and off like it's supposed to. What if there's something wrong with the boiler? What if the building is in danger?

Whoa whoa whoa...

I feel like I've been traumatized.

Well, you have been. A little.

And what's worse, in situations like this, I feel like God doesn't exist.

Whoa there Fork. I think you're just overexcited.

No, I'm serious. Why does this kind of stuff happen? This was utterly terrifying. My fingers are burned. My stuff has been damaged. I have NO control over this. I feel helpless and small and nobody cares. Where the crap was God when this happened? I feel like He exists at church and in spiritual matters, but when it comes to the physical, real-world problems...what the crap?

The radiator blew up because you don't live in a whimsical fantasy world where you make a wish and bad things stop. There's order. And sometimes that order results in unpleasantness.

Yeah, but what? What am I supposed to walk away with here? Was this some sort of life lesson? Am I supposed to think there was a REASON for this happening? The only person affected here was ME. And possibly the super.

I don't know. Maybe you'll see it a couple of days. You never know. Maybe there's something wrong with the building and this needed to happen so the landlord would come and discover the problem before something REALLY bad happened?

Possibly. I'm going to ponder this for a few days. In the meantime, the radiator is still hissing full-blast, the apartment is still super-hot, the fans are on, the windows are open... And I have no control. I'm helpless here.

You're being dramatic.

I'm being dramatic because I'm THINKING about this. I'm trying to rationalize. Good grief, you're just like my parents. They think I'm ridiculous when I try to process deep thoughts and feelings in front of them.

Just try and relax. Everything will work out. It always does.

Yeah. I guess you're right.

Entertainments

Brief Encounter and the Pee-wee Herman Show were both great fun, packed with theatrical tricks and surprises. Too bad they're closed now.

As is the dreary Haunted, starring a dynamite Brenda Blethyn. Why playwrights insist on writing things nobody would WANT to see is a mystery to me.

The Illusionist--Sylvain Chomet's follow-up to his wonderful though somewhat meaningless look at the grotesque side of how we entertain ourselves, the Triplets of Belleville--does, indeed, have a moral. Points for that. The downside is the moral is--well. I won't spoil it for you. In spite of that, the film is still well-made, mostly dialogue-free and aurally rich (as Triplets was), and mature in the way that the really great anime films of Japan are.

Odd Couple

Forkish review of Broadway play 'Elling'.

Wonderful show, delightfully performed by a cast of television and Hollywood character actors who--surprise, surprise--can do theatre. O'Hare is magnificent and Coolidge does her trademark thing to hilarious effect, even if the old folks didn't quite get it.

I've long been a secret fan of Mr. Fraiser as I've suspected he knows full well how absurd the Hollywood "thing" is as he seems only to choose projects that are fun. He's a far cry from his George of the Jungle days but he's clearly having a ball on the stage and gives the show much of its heart.

Scene changes are also helped along by a soundtrack that feels deliberate and part of the show, either fading into a radio playing in the background or stopping as soon as the lights come back up. Whoever came up with that, thank you. It feels so clean. The slow audio fade out as lights slowly fade up needs to go.

This Norwegian 'Odd Couple' is an absolute breath of fresh air, pure escapism in a time when such entertainments are sorely needed and greatly appreciated. Deftly directed, graciously apolitical, and mercifully NOT GAY, the story shows us a deep friendship between two very 'rare' men (to use their word) in an unassuming relationship that American men can no longer have with one another.

Loved it. I'd see it again in a second.

Driving Miss Crazy

Fork-sized reviews of Broadway revivals La Bete and Driving Miss Daisy

Recession is here. Plays the new big thing on Broadway, minimal sets, tiny casts, hefty star-power. But is fame enough...?

La Bete, a revival of 90s play that ran for, like, two performances, stars David Hyde Pierce, Joanna Lumley, Mark Rylance. Shakespeare-type (Hyde Pierce) being forced by Queen (Lumley) to bring Shrek-esque buffoon (Rylance) into acting troupe because she thinks he's funny. Interesting piece on the hows and whys of society allowing low art to be elevated to high art, while high art becomes an object of scorn among the masses who, at the end of the day, don't care about iambic pentameter and just want to be entertained.

Sets, costumes, etc., etc., the elements are there, lovely, creative, perhaps a bit inconsistently literal. Hyde Pierce and Lumley simply spectacular. May inquire at box office to see how much it would cost to slip in for their closing monologues in the last 30 minutes of the 2 hour play.

Why just last 30 minutes? Because if I have to sit through Rylance's somebody-shoot-me-please-I-beg-of-you-I-can't-take-anymore AWFUL comedic stylings again, all the cheer and goodwill I have left will be permanently sucked out of me. What, I believe, should have been the embodiment of every handsome, self-absorbed, pseudo-intellectual actor you've ever disliked, is interpreted here as a Jerry Lewis/Adam Sandler (in his early days) type of mental retard who takes a dump behind Shakespeare's bookshelf, cannot make eye contact with anyone in an irritating childlike manner, drops the end of 2/3 of all his lines for comic effect which gets old after the first 45 minutes, farts, belches, spits, strips, basically delights the dumbed-down audience so Hyde Pierce can turn around at the end of the play and tell me and three other people who want to gouge out our eyes that we must defend art from the people sitting around us.

Successful? Sure. But this isn't Theatre of Cruelty. It's Broadway and most people are paying $121.50 to be entertained, not tortured ($35 for me. Thanks, TDF!) I've never had anyone shoot to the top of my MUST MISS list faster than Mark Rylance who pulled almost exactly the same shtick in Boeing Boeing, and how he continues to steal all the reviews is quite beyond me. 15 minute monologue delivered by actor, while dazzling the folks who still wonder how actors "memorize all those lines" utterly excruciating.

Hyde Pierce and Lumley, however, positively light up the stage (Lumley quite literally). If you can stomach the 21st Century's Jerry Lewis acting like an barking idiot for 45 minutes you'll be treated to a handful of wonderful monologues by these two.


Driving Miss Daisy. Vanessa Redgrave (THE Vanessa Redgrave!), James Earl Jones, Boyd Gaines. 90 minutes. Drab set. Unfortunate costumes. Okay. So the color and sparkle will come from Redgrave and Jones, right?

Sad to say, once again, another tiny cast with a weak line that, in this case, renders the show difficult to watch. Gaines is great in the thankless role of Miss Daisy's exposition-spouting son, and Jones defies expectations as Hoke, giving a swell, if a bit emotionally heavy-handed, performance which is likely to delight Star Wars fans the world over.

Unfortunately, someone needs to tell Ms. Redgrave that merely speaking with a false Southern accent does not a genteel Southern lady make. More to it than that. Don't know why they keep putting British actresses in roles which require Southern accents--they can never do the Rs and the As. When Redgrave first comes on stage mixing cake batter, looking extremely awkward doing so, you know this doesn't bode well. Moving too much, pantomiming, it's too much, too unreal, and, worst of all, too phoned-in. Tender moment teaching Hoke to read is reduced to Redgrave clowning and dropping all pretense of character. Two sneezes during the show reminded me of the studies done attempting to understand why actors "in the moment" NEVER SNEEZE on stage.

A little heavy-handed on the "THIS IS SEGREGATION" side of things. We get it, okay? We're not stupid.

Then again, based on audience response to Rylance in La Bete, maybe we are.

My job

Aaand now I'm a werewolf with raptor feet.

I have the coolest job in the world.

*does more pull ups, crunches*

Howling

A dog has been howling in a nearby apartment for days and days.

It seems whenever the owner of this stupid animal leaves, it begins howling. And the howling does not stop until the owner returns around 11pm.

If you live in Hell's Kitchen, right here in the heart of Manhattan, and know where this howling is coming from, please let me know so I can do what that person's neighbors SHOULD have done two weeks ago and called freakin' 311!!!!!!

But that's really the trouble with New York City, isn't it? Some unseen person can be smoking near their window in a downstairs apartment and sending the smoke into all the open windows above him. Someone can have a dog which howls every minute on the minute for 8 hours a day that the rest of the block has to suffer through. Some filthy person in some apartment has bedbugs and the entire building becomes infested.

What the crap are those of us suffering from these people's lack of consideration supposed to do about it? There's nothing you CAN do, it seems to me. Other than stare at the wall and wonder why you pay a zillion dollars a month for a little square room with paper-thin walls and neighbors whose noises, smells, and lives just WON'T STAY OUT when you could pay the same amount elsewhere and have a HOUSE.

I'm just saying.