My selection show

It’s not just college basketball fans who get excited around this time of year. No, we theater fans wait our turns patiently too. We’re just as interested for our big announcement of who we’re going to see and when.

But my curiosity was satisfied at this morning’s announcement of the 2008-2009 season at Baltimore's Hippodrome Theater.

(Well, technically I had a pretty good idea about the lineup a few weeks back. A BroadwayWorld.com reader posted the list of shows on the Broadway board before it quickly disappeared. Then BroadwayAcrossAmerica.com, erring on the side of stupidity, accidentally posted the information last night.)

In any case, this morning unveiling made everything official. Here’s what the lineup looks like:

Legally Blonde the Musical -- Sept. 30-Oct. 12, 2008
Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas! The musical -- Nov. 11-23, 2008
A Chorus Line -- Dec. 2-14, 2008
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang -- Jan. 6-18, 2009
Grease -- Feb. 3-15, 2009
A Bronx Tale -- April 14-26, 2009
Spring Awakening -- June 9-21, 2009

The Hippodrome people seem to be touting the 08-09 season as child-friendly, by including Grinch and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. But, considering they selected a song from A Chorus Line with a refrain of "Tits and Ass" as one of the live songs at this morning's selection show, I’m not sure everyone got the memo.

On the whole, I’m pretty pleased about next season. Instead of there being three shows I really didn’t want to see like this year, next year there are only two. (Yep, you guess it. They're the child-oriented shows.)

There are a few glaring omissions from next season's lineup. No Jersey Boys. No Drowsy Chaperone. No Sweeney Todd. C'mon. Even Minneapolis got Jersey Boys.

Still, I am glad for what we do have.

I’m most excited about Legally Blonde and Spring Awakening which, you may remember, we went to see in New York about a year ago. Both are fresh, new musicals that appeal to my generation even though one is fun and light and the other is dark and depressing. Both have soundtracks that will stay stuck in your head for weeks at a time.

Chazz Palminteri’s A Bronx Tale should be a really good show too. Some of you may know the story from the 1993 movie version, starring Robert DeNiro, which Palminteri wrote. The stage version is a one-man show where Palminteri does 18 different characters.

I'm also looking forward to A Chorus Line which is a classic musical I've somehow missed so far. And Grease, while I'm not excited to see again, is okay and least has familiar music. But, more importantly, it's not Cirque Dreams.

Happy 30th, Adrian!

Thirty years ago today, on the Pacific island of Guam, a baby named Gerald entered the world.

A few months after that, he became Adrian. And a little over 18 years later he became my best friend.

(The name change thing is a long story. Ask Adrian about it. Or, better yet, ask his parents.)

Anyway, we met as freshmen at St. Mary's. As newspaper nerds, we both joined the staff of The Point News and before we knew it, Adrian became the editor-in-chief and I was the managing editor.

We've stayed close since college and except for Adrian's year-long stint in Nashville, we've been lucky enough to only be about a half hour away from one another.

Adrian's Tennessee adventure did, however, give me an excuse to head west, where I saw everything from the the Grand Ole Opry to enormous warehouse stores that only sell fireworks. (This is the part where we ignore the fact that I was more excited about Opry Mills, the mall just across the parking lot, than the actual home of country music's elite.)

Adrian is a pretty unique guy and I won't even begin to try explaining him. Just know that he firmly believes that everything is better when pickled. Or in Peep form.

He's also been lucky to travel extensively -- something I've always envied. Please remind me that I still need to get the scoop on his recent return to Guam.

I was one of the invited few at Adrian's birthday party over the weekend hosted by Steve, his older brother, and Steve's wife, Jenn. Like every other Adrian-related event, the Simpsons figured prominently. Adrian's oldest sister, Michelle, made the awesome Homer Simpson carrot cake in the picture above. Below, you'll see the picture I had made for him to commemorate his 30th.



I hope Adrian has an absolutely wonderful 30th birthday. If it goes well for him, I might even try turning 30 in a few months too.

Tap water, now new and improved!

Once again my dad is way ahead of his time. First it was free refills on soda and now it's Prozac in the water supply.

According to several news outlets, an AP investigation has uncovered prescription drugs in the drinking water of at least 41 million Americans. Apparently we've got everything from antibiotics to sex hormones coming out of our faucets.

Please -- my father came up with this idea years ago. He's advocated this for as long as I can remember. And, whether it's Prozac in the water supply or giving Valium to trick-or-treaters, who wouldn't benefit from a little mood enhancement?

I'm not sure I even understand what all the fuss is about in the first place. Prescription drugs have gotten ridiculously expensive. My water bill, on the other hand, remains surprisingly affordable. It sounds like the solution to the prescription drug crisis if you ask me.

But no. All of a sudden, the same Americans who waste their money on those fancy enhanced bottled waters are now worried about tainted H20.

Well gosh, thank goodness my daily liquid intake is 95 percent Diet Coke. I am a health nut, after all.

Totally Wired

We're just about an hour away from the last episode of The Wire and while I'm excited to see how it all wraps up, I'm already mourning a Wire-free existence.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: The Wire is the best television drama of all time. (Sorry West Wing, but Baltimore beats D.C. every time in my book.)

As a recovering journalist, I was more than a little excited when I first learned that The Wire would turn its focus to the Fourth Estate in the final season

And, now that the season is just about over, I feel comfortable in stating that, despite what the Baltimore Sun wants you to believe, the newsroom scenes aren't without their bits of truth.

The newspaper business is just that -- a business. Like any other casualty of budget cuts, journalists are constantly asked to do more with less. So while the Baltimore-based drama shines some light on the Sun, the same stories are playing out in newsrooms of every size across the country.

The line between good and bad isn't always as stark as it is between Gus Haynes and Scott Templeton. But remember -- Jayson Blair did happen. (Incidentally, if you have any interest at all in journalism, I urge you to read Blair's autobiography, Burning Down My Masters' House. It's shocking and fascinating.)

So what does The Wire get right? It does a good job at showing the frustration and excitement of the news business. I know what it's like to be the young reporter who can't wait to see her first front page story. I was her.

I know how it feels to work on a deadline when nobody is talking. And I know what it's like to beat the rest of the pack on a story or get beaten by them. (Thank you David Simon for my favorite moment of the season to date -- when The Daily Record beats the big bad Sun on a story.)

The classic Tommy D'Alessandro "my desk told your desk" story? That stuff is legendary among local journalists. David Simon was there. He may be biased but he knows his stuff.

So does this season of The Wire give a dismal and depressing view of journalism? Sure. But what do you expect from a medium that failed to anticipate that the internet would render it as obsolete as the slide rule or eight-track?

And, even with the show ending, The Sun couldn't help but take one last jab at David Simon. More than 48 hours before The Wire's final episode, The Sun had already posted a review of the episode on its website with the headline "'Wire' finale lacks power of past seasons."

Thanks Sun, but David Simon won this round.

No fire extinguishers necessary

With apologies to Meg, whose Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme is the ultimate in food blogging, I hereby announce that Rich and I have achieved quite the culinary feat ourselves; we actually used our kitchen for something other than storing Diet Coke.

I'm not sure what prompted it but for four evenings in the last ten days, we've actually prepared our own dinner -- a teriyaki chicken stir fry.

For most people, this whole cooking thing is just a daily activity. For Rich and me, who only have a kitchen because it came with the house, it's practically a miracle.

We had it down to a science after the first go-round. Rich handles the actual stovetop action while I'm in charge of cutting up the vegetables, preparing the rice, and setting the table. And, by setting the table, of course I mean putting paper towels on the coffee table and making sure the Tivo has an episode of King of the Hill ready to go.

This culinary adventure has gone so well so far that I even ventured into the cookware section at Bed, Bath and Beyond and emerged with a new wok-like pot. It's like I'm practically a gourmet chef.

In the future we may even alter the meal and try something completely different like chicken stir fry with a tomato-based sauce.

What if they held an election and no one came?

If Maryland's presidential primary was supposed to actually matter for once, no one bothered to inform the voters in my neighborhood.

I, along with my fellow election judges at Cedarmere Elementary, expected a heavy turnout due to the contentious Obama-Hillary race. We were very wrong. Except for a small rush of voters when the polls opened and another surge after 5, we had very little traffic. We barely made it to a 32 percent turnout. (Our precinct, in case you're wondering, went heavily in favor of Obama by a 2-to-1 margin.)

The polling place was a ghost town for much of the day. Nobody bothered to electioneer outside. People driving past the school would have no way to know there was an election going on inside.

As bored as we were, we knew we couldn't leave the precinct for any reason so we had to find ways to entertain ourselves during the downtime. My most creative use of time award goes to the election judge at our poll who used voting stickers to make works of art. The sunburst, featured above, is my personal favorite.

I'm quite thankful that the voters at the precinct were very nice and grateful for our work. I'm sure the fact that they didn't have to wait in line contributed to their good moods. Everyone thanked us for helping and even the people who were upset because they were unable to vote (because they were unaffiliated, at the wrong polling place, or hadn't bothered to register) voiced their gripes in a polite manner.

But you know what would have really been nice? It would have been oh-so-nice if the elections board actually bothered to inform us that, due to the crappy weather, the polls would be open 90 minutes later. We only found out because one of the election judges had a call from her son-in-law asking if it was true that we had to stay open. We tried to verify the rumor by calling the elections board but nobody answered. Instead, I had to call my husband who checked the news and sure enough, our captivity had been extended.

I understand the reason for extending the voting hours. I really do. No one is more gung-ho about the importance of voting than this nerdy political science major. Still, I really wish they had considered the safety of the elections judges in this decision.

We'd all been inside since 6 a.m. and the freezing rain did a wonderful job of encasing our vehicles in an inch-thick layer of ice. After we finished out 16-and-a-half-hour workday at 10:30 p.m., we were freed only to forge an icy sidewalk and parking lot. With front and rear defrosters on high and my scraper getting the workout of a lifetime, it still took half and hour to get my car into a drivable condition.

I stuck to the main roads and everything was fine until I got to my street and lost total control of the car. My steering wheel was impotent to the forces of the ice. I almost plowed into two different light poles but by some stroke of luck, managed to avoid them.

I came to a stop about 30 feet from my driveway. I was blocking a driveway and the mailbox so I knew I had to move but I was too afraid to go anywhere. After calling both Rich and my parents for advice, I started to drift again and eventually wound up in the driveway. I've never been so happy to be home.

I may complain, but I'm still really glad I was a part of the process. As an unaffiliated voter who can't vote in Maryland's closed primary anyway, it was important to me to have some hand in this important election. Besides, someone has to do it.

That said, I will now return to CNN for my regular dose of election coverage.

To breathe again

I couldn't be more excited for Maryland to go entirely smoke-free this Friday, February 1. I also couldn't be more conflicted.

For, you see, as much as I absolutely hate smoking, I also hate the thought of the Maryland General Assembly stepping in and mandating what legal activities its citizens can and cannot do.

I've been putting off writing about this because this is such a difficult issue for me to reconcile. My libertarian leanings tell me to be outraged at this invasion into people's personal choices and the rights of business owners to respond to what the public wants.

But, at the same time, I've always put smokers right up there with drunk drivers, child molesters, and people who end sentences in a preposition. Are these really people I want to protect?

I come by this hatred naturally. For as long as I can remember, my grandmother made me promise that I would never smoke even a single cigarette because cigarettes killed her father. Yes, she used the word killed. And because of that warning, I've never so much as touched a cigarette.

The other side of the family shouldn't be left out. One of my favorite stories from my Aunt Judy, my dad's younger sister, is when she visited my parents soon after they were married. My dad was in the kitchen washing dishes and she lit up a cigarette just to see what his reaction would be. Within a split second, he turned the faucet sprayer on her and hosed her down. So yeah, we're not exactly pro-smoking in my family.

The matter is further muddied because of my passionate support for the American Cancer Society, a group that championed the ban. I feel the need to celebrate my ability to enter bars across the state without choking and reeking of smoke for hours after I leave. But I will only do so with a feeling of ambivalence.

What will you be doing this Friday as Maryland goes smoke-free? Regardless of your carcinogenic leanings, I hope you will consider dining out at one of the restaurants below that will be donating a portion of its proceeds to the American Cancer Society to mark this important milestone.

Restaurants participating in Dine Out for Relay For Life:

Bayou Blues Cafe at the Avenue at White Marsh (15% of sales, 4-6 p.m.)
Pizzeria Unos at Harbor Place (20% of sales all day.)
Greene Turtles across the state (10% of their sales from 11a.m.-2 p.m.; The Fells Point and North Ocean City locations will be donating 10% of their sales all day.)

Just my luck

Usually when the phone rings before 7 a.m. you're about to get bad news. The opposite happened to me today.

It was my dad calling to tell me that one of my mother's co-workers had called him to tell him she saw my name in the Baltimore Sun and I'd won a trip.

I enter so many contests that I didn't even know which one this could be. I thought it was for a trip to Florida, perhaps Tampa Bay.

As it turns out, I won free airfare for two and two nights in Orlando, home of Disney and all that it entails.

Here's the funny part. Our accomodations are at the Nickelodeon Family Suites. Only I would win a trip to a child-themed resort. Me, the girl who needs sedation to be within 50 feet of an anklebiter, will be lounging by the urine-flooded pools at a hotel that caters to snot-nosed tax-deductions.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm very excited to have won and I'm certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I count my blessings for being so lucky to win as many contests as I do. And secretly, I do have to admit I'm pretty psyched at the thought of a Sponge Bob-themed suite.

I've never done the Disney thing before so here's the question. We'll have one full and maybe one half day to see what Disney has to offer. Where do we go and what do we do?

My find of the week

Every once in a while I come across a website that's so cool that I absolutely must share it. FillerItem.com is one of them.

Do you ever go to buy something on Amazon and find that you need to add another dollar or five to qualify for free shipping? Filleritem.com solves that problem for you.

Just enter in the amount you need to reach the $25 mark for Super Saver Shipping and select which categories you want to search. It'll pull up a whole list of options for you.

I needed another $1.15 to get free shipping and FillerItem.com found me a four-pack of AA batteries for just $1.29. Had I found this website yesterday, I would have saved myself at least an hour of searching.

Happy New Beeeeppppp

One of the things I've always loved about my cookie-cutter townhouse is the way the vaulted ceilings in the master suite soar upwards as the sunlight refracts across the angles.

I loved it until approximately 3:43 this morning as the overzealous smoke detector shocked me from my slumber once again. It's the smoke detector that cried wolf and somehow we have to find a way to reach it to turn it off.

In the almost four years that we've owned this house, we've been roused from bed in this manner no less than eight times. Being the safety-conscious folks we are, we still check for smoke even though we know we won't find it. Once we even called the fire department in the middle of the night so they could check out the whole house and alleviate our worry.

Once we're sure the coast is clear, we enter into the ritual that gets more annoying each time. With the alarm still screaming I grab the phone, awaiting the inevitable call from the alarm monitoring company. Rich grabs the Little Giant ladder.

Then, as we fight off the effects of our sleeping pills, we try to move our bedroom furniture, turn off the ceiling fan, and set up the heavy ladder. I stumble to the top to grab the piece of howling disc.

We've tried to fix it more than once. My dad replaced all of the smoke detectors in the house. We also replaced the batteries. Still, in the middle of the night -- and it's always in the middle of the night -- it goes off.

I think we have to move.