We are happy to welcome guest celebrity blogger Hunter Foster, who was Tony-nominated for his performance in Little Shop of Horrors. Foster, who is currently playing Sam Phillips in the new musical Million Dollar Quartet, will blog for Playbill.com all week; his second entry follows:
Well, it's Tuesday and another early morning. I think we woke up to Jimi Hendrix. And I thought I had it set for "Turkey Lurkey." Damn you, Hendrix! Had to move the car. Street cleaning begins at 8:30 and ends at 10. So, usually I just move the car, wait for the sweepers and then go back inside. But, alas, those pesky men in blue sniffed me out and ticketed me around 9:45 while I was upstairs sipping on some Harry and David French Roast. I refuse to pay for parking even though I probably pay the same amount in parking tickets as I would to pay for parking. Oh...It's a constant battle with the NYPD over parking. Haven't we got enough to worry about? What with crime, terrorism and Michael Riedel?
Oh those folks that live outside New York City with their parking and their big driveways and garages that could house 8 Smart cars. I don't think they appreciate what they have. They'd last one day in the city. Having to drive in circles around Hell's Kitchen asking any schmuck who happens to hit a brake-light whether he's pulling out or not. Usually, you get the "I just got here, moron" look and then you slink on down 47th Street with your muffler between your legs, eyes darting from side to side for the first sign of an open car door. Then when you do find one, it's the mad scramble to get there first. Like in elementary school when you played that awful "Musical Chairs" or "Duck, Duck Goose." What Nazi invented those games? Then you back into the spot, which is way too small for your car and "lightly" tap the bumper in back of you, only then to pull forward and tap the bumper in front of you. This little dance goes on for a few hours: inching forward and "tap." Inching backward and "tap." Forward, "tap." Backward, "tap." And, as the sun begins to set over Jersey, you smile proudly for shoe-horning your Prius into a spot meant for a Mini. Then, of course, comes the moron who rolls up beside you: "Hey, buddy, you leavin'?"
People ask me all the time why I even have a car in the city, to which I reply, "It makes me feel like I can get out of the city at anytime. Even if I don't use it, it frees the mind." I then get, "Why not a ZIP car?" I have to tell you, and this is probably not going to sound very PC, but the first time I saw those cars I immediately thought they were for foreigners who were learning to drive. ZIP was some acronym for something strangely German like, "Zepplins in pursuit." I just don't like the idea of riding around Manhattan with a big Z on the side of my car. Either looks like I am trying to be a super hero or I decided Z was my favorite letter in the alphabet and I decided to put it on my car just to let all of NYC know. Like having a Jets or Giants flag flying out of the window.
Some people say they just can't afford to have a car, but would love to have that freeing feeling of being able to get out of the city at anytime. To them I say, see if you can find an old car key and get a key chain preferably with a Chevy or Ford logo and flash it around sometime. Go to Vintage one Sunday night and say, "I just don't know what I am going to do tomorrow on my day off." And throw those keys down. Then wait for all the, "You should drive up to the country" or drive to "IKEA." Then you can smile back and say, "I would if I wanted to. But, I don't want to. And besides, I have a call back for Mamma Mia!
I got some wonderful emails from people who saw Million Dollar Quartet sing "Peace in the Valley" at Easter Bonnet. They found it very moving. That's always nice. We have another show today at 2 PM, and my wife, Jen Cody, is a judge, and they have asked Levi, Elizabeth and I to introduce them. I'm thinking of announcing my wife and using my "Borat" accent. I am sure that will go over well.