Ricky Jay: Too Distracted By The Amazing To (Immediately) Succumb To The Teary Bits

So. Ricky Jay.

As directed by David Mamet.

In a 90-seat theater.

<swoon>

<thud>

Don't think there's a point in attempting a write-up of a sold out show because it's not like you can go check it out later in the run. How I got in at the last minute, long after the sold was out, is a Kitchen-Aid Mixer Mystery. So I'll give you this conversation held among strangers wandering in a stunned pack back to the parking garage.

"But WHERE did the vegetables come from?!"

"But where did the vegetables COME from?!"

"But where did the VEGETABLES come from?!"

"Actually, only two were vegetables. One was a lime." <odd silence from the group> "But yeah, you know? The FUCK with the vegetables?!" (this one was Me.)

"EXACTLY."

Let's just say I was not the only on in the audience to go O MY GOD when the vegetable thing happened. I was just the loudest.

(Update, next day: You know what hit me in the shower the next morning? What happened to the tattoo??? Update II, a couple of hours past lunch: The what happened to the tattoo??? question has been making my head hurt all day. Update III, after home from work, four loads at the 24-hour drug dealer laundromat, brief grocery shopping and the trauma of the Beverly Center <shudder> because only now did I remember that I am in desperate need of a pair of black pants but am too busy with other people's sewing projects to make some and H&M has that $5/$10/$20 sale going on: I'm gonna give it a stand-alone post.)

It was such a fantastic show! There were a couple of points when you could hear everyone in the room gasp, and so many when you could hear the central air running because the entire room was dead silent watching him with WTF wonder. You hear about performers who have 'timing'? Jay has astounding timing when it comes to manipulating silence. When the curtain zipped open and he walked onto the way coolio set, it was a couple of minutes before he said a word...just looked at us while rolling up the sleeves of his suit jacket and then opening up a sealed deck of cards. That said, Jay uses language wonderfully - he was as much fun to listen to as he was to watch. I don't know how much of what he was talking about was made up and how much of it was fact-based (of the many historical magicians/gamblers he talked about I only recognized two names, but I was rather Proud of Moiself at catching all but one of the poetry references) but who cares because his patter was both entertaining *and* educational. He was also extremely funny.

I did get the sense that something was up with the blonde woman he pulled onstage during the second half of the show. When she got up she tossed a look at a couple sitting on the far (stage right) end of the front row and they all had a huge laugh. I don't know who that couple was, but everyone in the front row paid $250 for the privilege, the man got double-takes in the lobby, and while waiting for the curtain to come up the two of them practically had a receiving line. See, during the first half of the show, when Jay made his first call for volunteers, he said he didn't want anyone he knew to volunteer. Later during the first half when he was going down the row having people pick cards, he stopped at this couple and asked a woman sitting *behind* them to pick a card. So put it all together and the guy in that couple was probably a Somebody (and a Somebody powerful enough to walk around with a neon green sweater knotted over his shoulders in 80s High Preppy Style as if that was normal), and someone Jay and the blonde woman knows.

Down the road won't be surprised if I find out by accident who this guy was and laugh at how stupid I was not to recognize him. I have a long history of failing to recognize celebrities, starting with my first week in California, when I was a grocery store in Palm Springs and talking to the woman who played Brenda Walsh without a clue until the checkout lady said do you know who that was? She never talks to *anybody*! Last month I was at Amoeba standing behind Sara Silverman and her giant bodyguard, completely clueless until I noticed folks doing the stop/stare/photo/autograph request thing and asked one of them who she was. Though I did recognize James Cromwell that time in the Whole Foods down on Fairfax, that was only after wondering why all those little kids were staring at this guy in awe while their embarrassed moms were trying to shoo them away. That guy is *really* tall. You gotta see it in real life to get the impact. He's like Magic Johnson tall.

On the other hand, I recognized Kelly Link instantly on the floor of BEA, even though all I've ever seen is an author mugshot.

This was only my second time at the Geffen, in part because I dislike that part of town, but mainly because they don't have a Hot Tix or similar program and so the whole place is out of my price range. I'd forgotten about the well-stocked bar in the lobby and the pretty twinkle lights in the courtyard. It's a nice space. I can't wait to go back in the fall. Before the show I got to talking with a guy who flew down from the Bay Area for Jay's performance, which he found out about by accident and a couple comprised of third- and seventh-generation Los Angeles natives. (!!) They saw Jay when he last did this show a decade ago and we all got to talking about various local Mamet shows we'd seen.

Back home, Cuddle Kitty thought the ticket was tasty:

I think I'll make a shadowbox! This ticket & playbill, toss in the ripped playing card that black magician from Alaska let me keep after his set at the Magic Castle a few years ago, and add the teeny scrap of cloth alleged to be from one of the capes of Blackstone, Jr. That'll make a nice one.

Man, I love this town so very much. Never thought I'd ever get to see Jay in live performance but figured if the chance ever came up it would happen here. The only thing that would have made it all perfect would have been the hours-long (possibly days long) geekout conversation with The Departed going over every single detail. I miss not being able to bring things like this back to him so he could enjoy them, too. I can get used to the rest of life without him, but I will probably never get over the whole Not Fair of it all.