Not really, but I did see A Tale of Two Cities. There are some great voices in that cast! Essentially, every song ended with someone belting a soprano high note, and it was usually a guy. I hope the water backstage is infused with Throat Coat. I interviewed some of the cast at my Sirius Live On Broadway Show, and Natalie Toro (who plays Madame Defarge) told me a terrifying story. She was in the midwest playing the lead in Henry Krieger and Bill Russell's Everything's Ducky when she started to feel like she had the flu. She felt sicker and sicker and finally went to the hospital. Turns out, she had spinal meningitis! Yowza! The fun part was when she found out how it's spread. Suffice it to say, she thinks that she met a fan at the stage door who didn't consider washing his hands a high priority. She's fine now and, thankfully, it obviously hasn't affected her ability to belt. My next interview (Wednesday at noon at the Times Square Information Center) is going to be with three of the lady leads from Young Frankenstein. I recently found out that I'm supposed to call it The New Mel Brooks Musical: Young Frankenstein. Isn't that a little wordy? Also, at what date can I stop using the word "new"? Is it forever there? In that case, I'm dying to see The New Andrew Lloyd Webber Musical: The Phantom Of The Opera.

Monday night, I did Celebrity Autobiography, which is a show where people read excerpts from real celebrity autobiographies. I always read Star Jones' bio, "You Have to Stand for Something, Or You'll Fall for Anything". Hmm…I'm sure she agrees strongly with that title, and it's not just witty, meaningless word play. Anyhoo, I was backstage with everyone before the show, and I was so excited to see Alan Zweibel. He was a writer on "Saturday Night Live" when it first began and wrote a book called "Bunny Bunny" — about his friendship with Gilda Radner — that I loved when I first read it. I got him to autograph the book and talk about Hewlett High School, of which we are both alums. He, too, had Mrs. Jaffe for AP English and his scars are still fresh. Remember? She's the one I wrote about in a past column who told me, in front of the class, "Seth! You're useless, you're fruitless and what's more, I don't like you." Maybe she should have learned that honesty isn't always the best policy.

When we were backstage on Monday, Alan walked over to Matthew Broderick, gave him a pat on the shoulder and said, "By the way, belated congratulations on 'Ferris Bueller.'" Brava! Speaking of which, Matthew was late because he was coming from the dentist. He told us that he was on his motorized scooter rushing through Central Park, and the 72nd Street exit was closed off. He was so late that he tried to sneak through it because it leads right to the venue…and he got stopped by a cop! The cop walked over to him and Matthew took off his helmet, waiting for the, "Oh, my God, you're Matthew Broderick!" moment. Matthew said that he wished he had long flowing hair to reveal as the helmet came off, but he didn't. Regardless, the cop saw his face and had no reaction. He then asked for his license, saw his name and remained duly blank-faced. Matthew said, "I know I made a mistake, but I'm rushing to go do a play!" The cop said, "What play?" Uh-oh. Does he say, "Celebrity Autobiography"? Hmm…he realized that it wasn't actually a play. But then what is it? An act? Performance art? He remained silent as the cop glared. Matthew finally stammered, "Uh…I do a lot of plays." That cop asked, "Like what?" Matthew offered, "The Producers?" The cop shrugged and said he never heard of it. What the-? This was in New York, people! Surely, the cop heard about the Inner Circle Tickets that cost $450. If that wasn't a crime, what was? Regardless, how could you have lived in New York and not have heard of The Producers? Unless, the cop was used to hearing it called, The New Mel Brooks Musical: The Producers. Finally, Matthew told him that he also does movies. Matthew said he wasn't trying to get out of it because he's famous, but he was trying to prove he really was rushing to do a show, and not because he was totally reckless. The cop asked, "What movies?" Matthew decided to go for the big guns and said, with trepidation, "Uh…'Ferris Bueller's Day Off'"? That, he had heard of, and the cop let Matthew off without a ticket. If you reenact this story, remember that Matthew just came from dental surgery, so half his face was "Novacain'd" and immobilized adding to him sounding desperate and crazy.

On Wednesday I saw All My Sons which, more than once, I've called My Three Sons by accident. I think John Lithgow is a great actor, and it was great to see him giving a sassy dramatic turn — even though he busted me the first time I met him. Kelli O'Hara got him to be a guest on my Chatterbox, and I introduced him as John Lithgow, pronouncing it like "ow." He came onstage and told me it was Lithgow, like "oh." I immediately told him that the "w" at the end of his name should make it "ow," and he asked me how I pronounced "rainbow." Busted! I've been a fan of Patrick Wilson since we first worked together on Barry Manilow's Harmony in the summer of 1997. Act Two began with Patrick having his shirt off, and Act Three ended with us getting married. Well, I don't know if that was in Arthur Miller's script or the result of the trance-like state I went into after seeing Patrick in the half monty. I was disappointed, though, that there was no singing in the show. I'm always frustrated when a great musical performer does a straight acting gig. (Still annoyed about Barbra's stint in "Nuts." Where was the belted theme song?) Speaking of which, on Thursday I was leaving therapy…uh, physical therapy, that is…and I ran into Raúl Esparza on the corner. It was his opening night for Speed-the-Plow, and I asked him if there was any singing in the show or at least a mega-mix at the end. He said he'd love to do a Mamet mega-mix but was nervous they'd be arrested for too much profanity. I wonder if there was one in the eighties version. It would have involved Madonna in a body mic right next to her mouth, yet lip-synching per usual, a pointed cone bra and an inappropriately used water bottle.