I write to you this afternoon from sunny Southern California, after traveling 341 miles to see Jersey Boys. Now, you may wonder why I don't just see Jersey Boys in San Francisco, since it seems the show will be running at the Curran Theatre until all us mere mortals die. After the apocalypse, expect the cockroaches and the San Francisco production of Jersey Boys to take over the newly vacated planet Earth.
Well, not only is it just far more saucy to jet down to L.A. to see a musical, but I actually had tickets to see Jersey Boys in San Francisco last winter. My sister Fabulous Patti and I were going to go on December 19th. Until, that is, Fake Band was invited to play our company Christmas party... on December 19th (relive that story here). So I sold my theatre tickets; Fabulous Patti and my friend Jack came to the company Christmas party to see me sing; and the rest, as they say, is history. As is my participation in Fake Band, but that's another story. Anyway, Fabulous Patti and I got a little lazy about rescheduling the Boys, and the next thing we knew, she landed a job in Los Angeles. At that time, we thought the San Francisco production of Jersey Boys might close eventually, so we bought tickets for the L.A. show.
And that brings us to the present. Earlier this afternoon I caught a mid-air taxi cab more commonly known as Southwest Airlines, and now here I am in the City of Angels for one day. My first stop was the Los Feliz Pinkberry on Vermont Avenue. Yummy. And in a little while I'm going to meet Fabulous Patti for dinner and the show.
Tomorrow it's back home to the Bay. It's lovely to live like a jetsetter every once in a while.