Dateline: March 2, 2000 -LAX and Strictly Regulated Airspace

When you travel a lot, little things can make the difference. Little things like, oh, FINALLY getting to use your Upgrade Certificates.

(Sidebar - Contrary to popular belief, Joe Finetti doesn't know ALL the flight attendants ALL the time, although the LAX-Chicago flight where we went from the last row of the plane to the first row - LITERALLY - because they had the space in first class and Joe knew two of the crew members - ROCKED! Or maybe that was the Cabernet talking...) Miraculously, we both get the upgrades only to encounter First Class Attitude - glares and ultimately a refusal from his seatmate when Joe rises to use the restroom, and a patronizing explanation from mine that "cumin" is a spice (I'd asked the attendant to describe it, having never had it). Oh, thank you, sir!!! Thank you SOOOOOOO MUCH!!! I couldn't figure that out since we were discussing the freakin' MENU!!!!! Yeesh!!! We meet Matthew in Baltimore and wind our way to Arlington, where Matthew mocks me for scooping up the hotel club ! miles, but he won't be laughing in a few days when I earn myself a free night. Bwa ha ha!

Dateline: March 3, 2000 - Our Nation's Capital

Joe and I may have switched bodies during the night: After no sleep I drag myself to McDonald's in the morning while he and a visiting friend eat in a REAL restaurant. The weather is spectacular for DC - in the 70's in March - but, as is often the case, I am too exhausted to notice. We meet up with Richard at WBIG, an oldies station, where we sing several tunes for them (oddly enough they don't want us to...talk...) and record beds for them to talk over. We then ceremoniously sign their bathroom wall (near the toilet paper, natch, as we're a 2-ply group) and say a brief hello to Paul Saborin of Da Vinci's Notebook in the hall before Richard heads off to lunch with him. (If you haven't heard their hilarious ALLY MCBEAL song on their new Richard-produced! album, get thee on it -- first with thine ears, then with thine wallet!)

Wolf Trap is a blast - and an exercise in concentration after 7 weeks off. Since we don't live in the same city, we don't have the luxury of what other groups refer to as "rehearsal," so it's a renewed challenge after a hiatus. Uber-fan Sue brings us key lime pie and carrot cake (and brownies the next night) and requests "Bongwater Day" for her newborn son. We thank her profusely but wonder in retrospect about those brownies! Joe and Matthew solo AS poultry in "There Ain't Nobody Here But Us Chickens" - appropriate for the Barns of Wolf Trap, I note - and my friend Angela gives us a "tipsy fudge cake" laced with Jack Daniels. (Are people trying to tell us something?) I debut a cool black evening dress just purchased at a vintage shop. Finally, one that doesn't make me look like I'm gonna topple over... or charge for a dance - and you other slim but decidedly zaftig gals know EXACTLY what I'm talkin' 'bout!!!!

Dateline: March 4, 2000 - ONC (Cont'd)

Bobs fan and friend Martha, a massage therapist, comes over at 11 a.m. and works wonders on me with her wonderful work. (Thank you!!!!) I get several phone calls during the massage, which Martha answers with a cheery, "Amy Bob's Room - this is her Massage Therapist." Gotta love it. Michael, my pal from high school, arrives to find me wrapped like Cleopatra on the massage table. It's hard to summon up the energy to move, but I must - we're headed to Hard Times in Arlington for lunch! Frito pie is on the menu! I once researched an article on Frito Pie for a travel magazine - this dubious pinnacle of gastrointestinal achievement was invented at a Woolworth's (remember those?) somewhere in New Mexico I think, and Frito didn't want them to use the brand name or something. Can't remember. Anyway, I absolutely HAD TO HAVE IT, which deserves capital letters because A) I had it... for several hours and B) because I was very near Our Nation's Capital.... yeah, that's it, B! Listen, Frito Pie is great.

But I don't recommend having a massage that effectively shuts down your digestive tract before you eat it! (Wardrobe feels mighty different with Frito Pie inside!) Later on, Michael and I afternoon in Arlington National Cemetery, where, saluting the upcoming Oscars I announce that "I see dead people," a statement I am bound to repeat that night when jokes fall flat. Another fun round at Wolf Trap; second half is "Pick-A-Song," which becomes the Matthew Bob Stull Hour (this always happens!!!). Special Thanks to Bob and Bill, our sound gods at this most excellent venue.

Dateline: March 5,2000 - Pennsylvania & New Jersey

We get completely lost trying to follow Mapquest's directions to Philly. Luckily, Richard has lived in DC (on U Street, he points out - Joe says, "Hey, you still live on you street") and guides us up to 95. Joe, fiddling with the electric windows in the backseat, turns to me out of the blue and says, "Look - it's like when there's a robot." (The windows make mechanical noises while Joe acts like a robot.) This cracks me up to the point of tears and noises that only dogs can hear. (Apparently no one informed them I have a history of cracking up beyond repair at robot jokes. I'm not a LOST IN SPACE fan or sci-fi geek - I'm just... well...ah, I don't know what the hell I am!!!)

Hey, I have to mention the new (well, new to ME) Omwiches at Dunkin' Donuts. YUM. Of course I'm partial to anything Dunkin. Don't start with me on Krispy Kreme. I mean it. I'll hurt you. (Although it occurs to me that a threat from someone who just admitted she is mentally undone by stupid robot jokes isn't that potent...and if any Bobs fans can get me in on the Krispy Kreme IPO, let's talk.) We get lost again in Camden (um... don't) on our way to Philly for a great interview with Gene Shay on WXPN before our show at the Cherry Tree co-op at UPenn. Lots of Bobs fans - lots of requests - including "Bongwater Day" - a sleeper tune, perhaps? It used to be no one got it, Richard says, or liked it. (I think they still don't get it but it's cool chord-wise.) We do a breakneck Spontaneous (the audience picked the tempo), Joe curses in front of children, who overturn "Duality" for "Snarling Doggie", and a piano in the room makes a horrible pitchpipe. I posit that it was! last tuned for the Continental Congress Wrap Party in 1789. Back to NJ, where we're staying, as Matthew, jonesing for good coffee, now spins out of control. Richard and I stage an intervention - Richard says "for municipal purposes" - but Matthew's mania continues. There is none to be found. I give him some Advil. On the phone, Alex says it's hailing in Los Angeles - and it's 65 degrees where I am! I finally get to see The Sopranos.

Dateline: March 6,2000 - Jersey, Baby, Jersey

Richard and I partake of Ponzio's Diner (ah, I'm home) while Joe heads to McDonald's and Matthew desperately (and unsuccessfully) mines the whole of southern Jersey for coffee. Unable to agree on a movie, we case some malls and head up to Trenton's Urban Word Cafe where we're doing a show on very short notice. Having grown up in Jersey, I feel it is my duty to tell the guys that A) I can no longer name all 22 counties but B) I do know that once we get to Trenton, there's really nothing there. They respond, "Coffee". QED. We learn the new merchandise jingle I wrote and hang at the Urban Word, a true oasis, all day. Molly McDonough, one of the owners, brings her cool kids, Sarah ("Weird Al is stupid" - um, honey, what's your point?) and Tom ("When I grow up I'm gonna be Joe Bob and spit on people!")

The cadre of diehard Bobs fans includes Dave Ambler, with whom I did summer stock in NJ in 1985 and haven't seen since! He sings in NJ TRANSIT, a local a cappella group, with Molly. We premiere the merchandise song despite having almost none left to sell, and revel on the Hamburg Reeperbahn-like platform stage as passersby flee in fear. A fun show - next time hopefully we'll have more advance warning so my NJ homies can make it! We drive to Bel Air, Maryland afterwards, passing the glowing, red "TRENTON MAKES, THE WORLD TAKES" that I've seen many times before - and not just in the movie, "Baby, It's You," with which my husband is mildly obsessed. (No I'm not! Yes, you are, Alex!)

Tossing around new lyrics for "A Cappella Choir In The Sky," our new gospel ditty for the History Show, we try to change the second verse so it's not specific to that project and can be used in regular shows. Matthew smashes his hand repeatedly on the dashboard of our silver Mercury Pimpmobile, trying to stop it from rattling as we barrel down 95 and Richard, still bronchial from a cold, de-lungs in the backseat. (Ah the glamour of showbiz.)

Dateline: March 7,2000 - Bel Air (MD) Pitch Project

You know, it's fun to see old sitcoms you never watched but were curious about, so I'd like to thank networks like USA and TNT. We meet at 11a.m. to fetch breakfast (when there's one car and four, for lack of a better word, "adults", you do a lot of things en masse). The group's priorities are obvious: I beeline to Einstein's for a mongo garlic bagel and they bolt to Starbucks for - well, you know. ADDICTS, I tell you. Joe, Matthew and I take in "Wonder Boys" at the cinema (made me want to live in an East Coast college town) before our gig at Harford Community College, dubbed the "Bel Air Pitch Project" by Richard. Another grand dinner there (although last year we ate in a regal Board Room amongst portraits of college presidents, which makes me wonder what Joe did after we left the room.) is served by Evo, with whom I bond over Buffy (who, despite the marked lameness this year with the Initiative plot, STILL rocks the known world).

Todd, the Sound Guy, tells us the last show in this theatre was a Roller version of "Phantom of the Opera" in which the "Phantom" tripped over his cape, skates akimbo at the climax of the title song. ("S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y...opera!") How could we top that? Pimping Richard's Barry White-esque voice (Say, 'what a cute bunny!' Say it!!!!")? Threatening to have a 10-year old girl thrown out by security for rowdiness? (Thanks, Allison!) Having Matthew do the show in a mask, with a grotesque limp? Um... I don't think

Dateline: March 8,2000 - Leavin' on a Jet Plane

Up at ow o'clock to make a plane home. No upgrades. Two flights. Long day. I can't wait to have dinner with my sweet at our favorite restaurant in LA - that is, if I can stay awake long enough!

©2000 Amy Engelhardt (text), Alex Stein (page)