Finally, The Prizes

Again, thank you to all of you who sent questions back at the first of the year. I did not think that it would take me this long to tie up all of the loose ends, but there you have it. It did. Originally, I said that I would choose "a winner". The winner was to be the person whose question I liked best - not objective and really not fair; but again, there you have it.

As I tried to determine which question I liked best, I realized that, even though there were only a few in the running, it was a difficult task. I could not decide. They all were a favorite for one reason or another. So, everyone wins! The prizes are as follows:

Anonymous and Weber: You each will receive a Barnes and Nobel gift card. This is to allow you to find answers to those burning questions from a reputable source, which I am not. I hope the fact that you will very likely purchase something with literary merit will not keep you from continuing to visit here. Enjoy!

Lynn: Thanks for your question on creativity. It really made me think and it allowed me to relive some moments that I had not visited in a long time. You will receive Sark's New Creative Companion: Ways To Free Your Creative Spirit. If you already have this book let me know.

Ikanlala: Despite the fact that skiing is not an everyday word in Texas, we do knit socks here like our feet really might get cold. I am sending you a skein of sock yarn dyed right here in the heart of Texas, where at this very moment it is 70 degrees and I am wearing handknit wool socks.

Offspring No. 2: Like Anonymous and Weber, you need to find a reliable source for answers to your questions. Remember, I am the one who told you that Thanksgiving was always on Thursday because they both began with "TH". There actually is a book that speaks to your question, Did Adam & Eve Have Belly Buttons? and 199 other questions from Catholic teenagers, by Matthew J. Pinto. Because you are a good little Episcopalian, you can take with a grain of salt all the stuff on the pope and the dogma of the Catholic Church. Altough, as you are about to be confirmed, you might be thankful to be an Episcopalian rather than a Catholic.

If all of you would send an email with your mailing information to me at kriselliott@starband.net, I will get your goodies in the mail.

Thanks again for playing!

A Real Vacation

I loved our trip to New York. The company was great, the entertainment spectacular, the food filling, and the weather, we'll not talk of the weather. Anyway, I had a wonderful time but those four days were not restful, not that they were intended to be. Once I returned, I jumped head first into this semester's classes and was faced with the next publication deadline for Spirit of Knitting. Overwhelmed is the best way to describe my state of being over the past few weeks.

This weekend, the second weekend of the month, is our regularly scheduled Franciscan fellowship meeting in Austin. Though Austin is only a leisurely four hour drive from my house, going down and back in the same day is a little more hectic than I like so BK and I usually travel down on Friday night. The ulterior motive here is that Austin has some great knit shops and independent bookstores. It is easy to amuse oneself for an extra evening in Austin. And then there is the food . . .I think that Austin has the best selection of restaurants of any city I have visited in a long time. I hate chain restaurants. Though they have consistency going for them, they also have consistency working against them. Everything tastes the same.

This weekend's trip was a little different than usual. The typical routine is to stay in a relatively nice hotel close to our meeting location. We check in on Friday afternoon and then spend the rest of the afternoon, evening, and well into the night most trips visiting all our favorite places. Mind you, there is nothing wrong with this agenda, but, like the trip to NY, it does not afford any down time. I think that the powers that be knew that I needed down time more than I needed any more books or any more yarn.

One of my Franciscan brothers has recently moved into a new home that has a guest room, actually two. He invited us to spend the night with him. While he was at my house for last month's meeting, we had a discussion about a Chinese restaurant in Austin that he said has the world's best pot stickers. Back in January, we made a dinner date for Fiery Wok. BK and I got to Austin mid afternoon and went straight to Book People. I enjoyed looking but was able to restrain myself such that I only bought two books and a magazine for Brooke. This took an amazing amount of self control. Though MasterCard may be disappointed in me, I am impressed with myself. This was the only place we stopped before meeting our friends for dinner.

The advertisement was right on. Fiery Wok does indeed have the best pot stickers and pretty darn good everything else. We enjoyed an awesome meal of food and fellowship. Much of our conversation centered around movies, a topic about which I am grossly illiterate at best. In an attempt to educate me, we decided to watch a movie once we got back to the house. Mother was selected for our viewing enjoyment. It is both a hilarious and touching comedy. I thoroughly enjoyed it. And, I stayed awake for the whole thing! Those of you that know me well will realize what a major accomplishment this was. At about ten o'clock, we all went to bed. I have not been in bed this early since . . .I was six. Seriously, when I am at home, I can always find one more thing to do. These "one more things" often carry me into the wee hours of the night. As a guest in someone else’s home, none of these things are there to distract me. I suppose I could have read one of the books I bought, but they were in the car and I was already in my jammies. Nope. No distraction tonight. I was able to crawl under the covers and settle in knowing that there really was nothing that I had to do except set an alarm for the next morning. Though I had a few little things to do to prepare for the next day's meeting, I could sleep until 9 and have plenty of time to accomplish these minor tasks. 11 hours of consecutive sleep-my body won't know what to do. It is likely to think that I have died or something.

I woke this morning at 8:30 rested and ready to face the day. I have not felt this good in a long time. For some reason, I am always amazed by the powerful effects of a good night's sleep. I am also grateful for the two hours that I sat still and did nothing but watch the movie. I need to do this more often but I just can't make myself sit still when there are dishes to wash, laundry to fold, articles to edit, papers to grade, litter boxes to change . . .and the list goes on. Or, I am so exhausted when I finally sit down to watch TV or a movie that I am asleep before rating has flashed before me. Pathetic but true.

The upshot of all this is that I had a great weekend and I learned that calm weekends are necessary and enjoyable. This is what a real vacation should be. Thanks Mark and Mike!

It is 10:15 and I am off to bed though for tomorrow, the alarm gets set for 6:15. Still that is eight hours of sleep. What a luxury!

The Last Two Questions

Finally, here are the answers to the last two questions posed back at the beginning of the year. These last two have several things in common. First, they are theological or biblical in nature; they deserve a serious answer; I sought the wisdom of others to ensure accurate answers.

Question #1 from Offspring #2
Did Adam and Eve have belly buttons?
(I happen to know that this question has plaqued Offspring #2 for quite a while. Hopefully this will put all suspicions to rest.)

“No - Adam didn't. Neither did Eve.”

Why? Because your belly-button is a sign that you were once attached to your mother. You depended on that life-line—the umbilical cord—for your nourishment from her body as you developed inside her.

But our first parents, Adam and Eve, didn't develop that way. God would not have planted on them a false indication that they had developed in a mother's womb.

When God created Adam and Eve in mature form, the day they were created they might have appeared to be, say, 30 years old. But God wouldn't want or need to create the appearance of a false history, any more than the mature trees created by God would have had growth rings initially. Those are things which would develop in their offspring as a result of processes later on.

What's more, this would be a tremendous testimony to God's creativity. Ken Ham once put it this way: Lack of a belly-button on Adam and Eve would be one of the biggest tourist attractions in the pre-Flood world, as the grandchildren and the great-grandchildren would come up and say, “Why don't you have a belly-button?” And they could recount again and again, to generation after generation, how God had created them special by completed supernatural acts, and yet had designed them to multiply and fill the Earth in natural ways that are equally a part of God's continuing care for what He created.

“…the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground… And the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof; And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.”
-Genesis 2:7,21-22

Question #2 from Weber
Please engage in a little time travel as we are now approaching Lent!

Since we are approaching Epiphany, here is a Magi question. Legend says that there were three of these gentlemen named Melchior, Balthazar, and Gaspar. However, the Bible does not mention them by name. In fact it does not mention there were three of them; just that there were three gifts. So where did the names Melchior, Balthazar, and Gaspar come from?

"Most of what we associate with the "Magi" is from early church traditions. Most have assumed there were three of them, since they brought three specific gifts (but the Biblical text doesn't number them). They are called "Magi" from the Latinized form of the Greek word magoi, transliterated from the Persian, for a select sect of priests. (Our word "magic" comes from the same root.)

As the years passed, the traditions became increasingly embellished. By the 3rd century they were viewed as kings. By the 6th century they had names: Bithisarea, Melichior, and Gathaspa. Some even associated them with Shem, Ham and Japheth--the three sons of Noah--and thus with Asia, Africa, and Europe. A 141h century Armenian tradition identifies them as Balthasar, King of Arabia; Melchior, King of Persia; and Gasper, King of India.

(Relics attributed to them emerged in the 4th century and were transferred from Constantinople to Milan in the 5th century, and then to Cologne in 1162 where they remain enshrined.) "

I did have to research the answer to this question. After reading several different sources, I decided that the explanation in wikipedia did the best job of a concise presentation so I stole this from them.

I have indeed been to the cathedral in Cologne where the relics of the Magi are enshrined. Unfortunately, the pictures I took were before I had a digital camera and I have no idea where the prints are. Obviously I am not an advocate of scrapbooking.

As an aside, when we were visiting many of the cathedals of Europe and seeing the relics of various saints, etc., the same child who wanted to know about Adam and Eve's belly buttons chimed in with, "Don't they keep a whole person any where?" She was six at the time.

Thanks again to all of you who played along with me. Now I must award the winners and their prizes. Winners will be announced soon. You must be present to win.

A Walk On The Creative Side

Back on my birthday in December, when I asked all of you to send me questions, I had no idea that it would take me so long to get them all answered. Life has intervened. I realize that it has been nearly a week since I last posted; another thing I never intended. I made a deal with myself that I would not skip more than a day, maybe two. Why did this happen? I have come to realize that when I am in a bad mood, I don't write. In fact, I really don't do anything that amounts to much.

In an effort to move myself from this not so happy place, I thought it might be good to answer the following question from Lynn.

As a creative person, you have no doubt produced many items due to your creative actions. Can you tell us about one moment of creation which gave you much joy, and describe enough about it for us to enjoy that experience with you?

This should have been fairly easy because by profession I am a musician, a career that is generally considered to be one of the creative arts. However, I engage in many other things that I also think address my creative side. As I searched the depths of my memory for a single moment that gave me much joy, I finally settled on the following. Truthfully, I surprised myself by focusing on a musical moment. This is not because I don't find music a creative endeavor, but because recently that is not where I see my creativity at work. So, the moment I am thinking of dates from the early 80's. Don't worry, my creative juices have been flowing over the past 25 years. It just happens that this moment from way back when is still very special to me.

As an undergraduate in school in North Carolina, I majored in music theory and composition. Though I had many wonderful composition professors, it was Dr. Henry, who taught electronic music composition, that I see as my true mentor as a young composer. Electronic music in 1982 was a whole different ballgame from that of today. My career as a composer of electronic music began in the analog era on a Moog synthesizer that required you to actually understand the physics of sound. Every parameter of every sound was made by creating a web of patch cords that controlled everything from the pitch to the amount of reverberation to rate of attack and decay. The many hours that I spent in the electronic music studio experimenting with the infinite possibilities are times that I will always treasure. The punching of buttons and moving of sliders of thedigital age of today is no comparison.

While I was still in school, the academic side of digital music was emerging. I feel really old saying this, but I was a practicing composer when the mainstream digital age was born. It was the composing of my first digital piece that sticks out in my mind as a most creative moment.

Early digital music assumed more familiarity with the intmate working of a computer than does digital musiv of today. Every note, with all of its parameters, had to be entered in hexadecimal code. The theorist in me loved the process almost as much as the final outcome. However, it is -the outcome here that is very special to me.

As music majors, much time, from the wee hours of the morning to the late hours of the night, was spent making music - alone in the practice room and in various ensembles with friends. Great friendships were formed when that much time is spent together and when you join together to make music. These were wonderful times. We were all young; we were all doing exactly what we wanted to be doing; we thought we were invincible.

This reality was shattered when during our senior year, one of my closests friends was diagnosed with a tumor, thankfully benign, on his kidney. The kidney had to be removed. At age 20 you don't expect this kind of thing to happen to your friends. Rusty played the saxophone. we all wondered, as did he, how long his recovery would be. Would he be able to give his senior recital? Would he graduate wuth us? Because youth doesn't really understand its own mortality, Rusty never saw any option other than that he would get better and life would go on as he had planned. And, it did. He was on track to give his recital and graduate with the rest of us.

One afternoon after he had had a saxophone lesson, he came to me and said that he had decided on the repetoire for his recital, except for the final piece. He then asked me if I would write that piece for him.. I was both flattered and terrified. I first asked if this was okay with his saxophone teacher and then asked if he was still taking mind altering drugs left from his surgery. He said yes to the first question and no to the second. After I calmed down, I told him that I would be honored to write a piece for him. I asked what he wanted and he said that he didn't care; he just wanted me to write something.

As I am sure you have realized by this point, I used the opportunty to put my newly acquired digital composition skills to the test. I wrote a piece for alto saxophone and computer entitled Permutaions. The title refers to the fact that the entire piece uses only six pitches though they are found in various octaves. For those of you that are musically inclined, you know that an octave contains twelve chromatic pitches. The fact that I used only six was a nod to the fact the Rusty was now living with half of his kidneys. Until this very moment, that was a secret known only to the two of us.

I must say that I was more nervous the night of his recital than I was on the night of my own. I also wrote a piece for my recital but the emotion behind it could not compare to that of Permutations. Because technology changed so quickly, the ability to perform this piece did not last very long. I suspect that is how it was supposed to be.

I'm not sure this counts as a "moment", but it is the event that comes to mind when thinking about Lynn's question. Thanks for making me take time to remember.

These days I do not take the time to compose much. I used to say that I didin't have the time to write music anymore. Really, I don't take the time. I still write short examples to use in my eartraining classes, but this definitely don't fall into the category of creativity. I find my creative self now being expressed through knitting and photography and writing (though many of you may disagree here) and cooking. I feel blessed that I have a number of creative outlets. When one road is blocked, I switch gears to find another that is open. This may not be the best approach, but it is effective for me. I have also come to realize that creativity is not reserved for "artists"; it is available to everyone and is applicable to any and every facet of our lives no matter how mundane the task at hand may seem.

Let me share one such moment. For eleven years, my kids attended a private school. It was not one of those ritcy private schools; they did not even have a cafeteria from which to serve hot lunches. So nearly every day for those eleven years, I packed lunches. For the most part I enjoyed doing so. But, there were those mornings when there was only one apple and two kids, or the peanut butter was all gone, or the sliced green pepper had joined the other side, or the worst possible scenario . . .the only bread left was the heels. Though I personally love the heels, neither of my children thought that a sandwich on the dregs of the bread loaf was acceptable. Enter creativity. If you spread the peanut butter and jelly on the outside of the heels and place them together on the inside of the sandwich, no one can tell that the sandwich is made on the heels. From the outside, the sandwich looks perfectly normal. You have to admit it beats sending the kid to school with Pop-tarts and potato chips for lunch! And when they go to therapy as adults, it will give them something to talk about.

Today my creative energies were focused on graphic design, an area where I have little knowledge and no expertise. The task was to create a poster for our church theater company's production of the musical Godspell. The catch here is that we can all see in our heads the poster for the Broadway production of this show. The problem is that we (the director) chose not to pay the liscensing fee to use that particular logo design so I had to create a completely new design, something that the public might associate with the show but different enough that it is not a violation of copyright. For me, this was not an easy task. Here is the final product.

I have two more of your questions to address and I think that can be done in a single post. I hope to do that over the weekend. Weber and Offspring #2, you have not been forgotten.

A Last Look At The City

On Monday morning, we all got up early and carried our packed bags down to the hotel lobby so that the concierge would look after them while we made a last quick trip into the city.

We rode the train to the World Trade Center stop. This was the best view of Ground Zero, which right now just looks like a busy construction zone. If you realize that the train station where we arrived used to be in the towers themselves, the magnitude of the 9/11 events can still be felt. If you never saw the World Trade Center, it is hard to imagine the great void that now exists.

We rode the escalator up to the street. I expected to see the large photographs and written tributes of the heroes from that day almost seven years ago. They were gone. All the memorabilia that lined the construction fences last June had been removed. Perhaps the city really has moved past that terrible day. I stood on the platform above the subway and took a picture of St. Paul's Chapel, the place that served as a haven of respite for those many days during the aftermath of 9/11.
When we visited New York in June, the chapel was still filled with pictures, gifts, letters, pieces of the 9/11 story. I wanted Liz and Gerald to see this place and feel all that was still therebut we were not able to go inside the building. I don't know if the chapel was closed for the holiday observance of MLK day or if they were preparing for a celebration that was to occur later in the day. Whatever the reason, we were unable to go inside. There is a part of me that fears that all the physical evidence of 9/11 is now gone. I admire NYC for being able to move forward, but there is still much healing that needs to happen. Having these tangible places where people could come to grieve and remember and touch the terror and then strive to move on is ian mportant process to growing stronger through those horrendous events. . Though it will mean always feeling at least a twinge of pain, I hope we never forget entirely..

We then took a quick trip to Central Park. The icy edged pond surrounded by the brown of winter was a marked contrast to the life that fills this areas in the summer.

I was surprised by the ducks that seem not to migrate.

A last look . . .
We then headed back to the hotel for our departure. After four wonderful days together, we all went our separate ways. Liz, Gerald and Erin headed back to Dallas where BK was waiting for them. Brooke went back to the negative temperatures in Chicago, and Mike and I made the five hour drive from New Jersey to northern Virginia for his sister's memorial service.

NYC: Day 3

In a state of grogginess, I reached for the remote and turned on the TV. It was strange to see the people screaming and waving from Rockefeller Center on the Today show knowing that if we had gotten our lazy butts up, we could have been there too. My guilty feeling disappeared at the moment I heard the newscaster announce that it was 19 degrees in the city and that the temperature would continue to fall throughout the day. My first inclination was to crawl back in bed and see if tomorrow was any warmer. If I had had my dogs to cuddle with, there would have been no discussion about this. Since they were at home, I got up.

I began putting on the layers - running tights under my jeans, several layers of shirts, a sweater, handknit wool socks and my cowboy boots. Then my "marshmallow" coat, gloves, hat, and my polar fleece scarf that I got on clearance at Old Navy for 99 cents the day before we left. I know, I should have had a handknit scarf, but we all know that there is no way, even if I were willing to use Red Heart yarn (and I'm not) that I could make one for 99 cents. This almost a dollar scarf may be the most important buy of my life. Rather pathetic, huh.

As we emerged from the warmth of the hotel into the frigid morning air, I waited for that moment when the wind hit me and all I could say was "damn , it's cold." Much to my surprise, I was plenty warm. Granted, we only had to walk about twenty steps to the train station, but the fact that we did not freeze in that little time was encouraging.

We really did not have a game plan for today. Should we see another show? Shop? Visit Central Park? Once we were off the train and began walking through the city, it became clear quickly that walking the streets just to sight see was a very cold and undesirable option. We voted unanimously to see an afternoon matinee. We already had tickets for the evening performance of Avenue Q.

We headed to TKTS. By the time we got there, cold was not strong enough to describe the temperature. Mike and Liz went to stand in line. Gerald, Erin and I had been assigned to make the Starbucks run. We all got hot drinks in the biggest cups possible - not because we were that thirsty, but because holding the steaming hot cups was the only way to keep our hands warm. The line for tickets was longer today than it had been yesterday and it was much colder. At the point Erin was about to be mistaken for an ice sculpture, Mike and Liz came with tickets to Rent, a show that we were all happy to see. We could not get tickets together but this didn't matter as long as the theater was heated.

An interesting aside: In Texas, where we have no idea what cold really is, the public buildings are always freezing during the winter months. In New York, where one assumes that the locals can tolerate cooler temperatures better than we southerners, the public buildings are incredibly warm. It is unbearable to wear a coat inside, especially if you have on four shirts, three pairs of pants, two pairs of socks, and a partridge in a pear tree. Somewhere along the way, I missed learning about the laws of thermostat regulation.

We had a nice lunch at a real restaurant and then headed to theater for a 2 pm show. This was an awesome performance. Rent is a powerful show that requires the emotional, as well as the physical energy levels of the actors to be at 110% for the entire show. The cast did not disappoint. The fact that we all knew all of the words to every song allowed us to dbe rawn in so quickly. It is hard to believe that Rent has been on Broadway for 14 years and that it will be closing in June.

As we were leaving the theater, Erin's fairy tale trip to the city got even better. She met the actor who played Mark.

And Tom Collins.
All of the actors that we met were so talented and friendly as well. Though I'm sure they were tired and wanted to be someplace warm before they had to return for their evening call, they took time to chat and take pictures with members of the audience.

We had a few hours before Avenue Q. We did a little souvenir shopping and again found warmth in a Starbucks cup. Then we were off to the show.

This was the moment I had been waiting for. I had hoped to see this show when we were in the city over the summer, but during the only slot we had to see an extra show, Avenue Q was dark. This is another show to which we all know all the words, even the dirty ones! I sat mesmerized from the first note of the overture to the last note of the finale. What an amazing piece of art. The actors were taxed nearly to their acting limits and the audiences was forced to really think. During this show I realized that I no longer can look at a show purely as entertainment. I see everything now through the eyes of a techie. This is not all bad; it just makes for a different experience.

Again we headed to Ellen's Diner. Erin and Gerald were still looking for eligible guys.

High on all of the day's experiences, at nearly 11 we headed back to the hotel. Though our flights were not leaving until the late afternoon on Moday, we had to have out bags packed first thing in the morning so that we could check out of our rooms. It was hard to believe that the fun was coming to end so soon.

NYC: Day 2

After our rather late night on Friday, we opted to not begin Saturday at the crack of dawn. We all got a good night's sleep and were ready to tackle the new day. Our hotel was on the New Jersey side so we headed to the train to take us into the city. After a change to the subway for a short ride, we emerged from the train in the midst of Times Square. Watching the expression on Gerald's face was like watching that of a small child on Christmas morning. Even at 11 in the morning, the city is bustling. We had decided to go to TKTS to get matinee tickets. At the suggestion of a friend, our first choice was Spelling Bee. Without a long wait in line, we were able to get six tickets together for the afternoon performance. Though we were all well caffeinated having visited Starbuck's, the consensus was that a real meal was a must before we headed to the theater. I firmly believe that a hot dog from a street vendor is a "must do" in the city; however, the vegan amongst us nixed this as a lunch idea. Instead we opted for a small cafe that had a nice selection for both carnivores and herbivores. Carnegie Deli had been an option we entertained, but the lined stretched out the door and down the street. None of us wanted salami that badly!

After finishing lunch, we took a leisurely walk to the theater. We knew that for the performance of Spelling Bee, they chose four members of the audience to participate on stage. Erin was determined to be one of the four. She got in line and answered the few questions that were part of the screening process. One of the questions was, "Are you a good speller?" She answered, "Yes." As it turned out, that was the wrong answer. She was not chosen to appear on stage. After seeing the show, it became clear that tenuous spelling made for a better resume. Nonetheless, the show was amazing. This was a great first Broadway experience for Liz and Gerald. At one point during the performance, a member of the cast asked the members of the audience who we planned to vote for in the upcoming presidential election. Our row was the only vocal row in the theater. Nobody booed us or threatened to beat us up so I guess our choice was acceptable.

After the show, we walked and walked and walked around the city. Brooke and Mike visited a comic book store and the rest of us went to the Drama Book Shop, a shop that is wall to wall scripts. Very cool! We had agreed to meet on a corner by the street vendor selling those awesome pretzels; you know the ones. Of course we indulged! After our snack it was on to 5th Avenue for some shopping.

Erin was on a quest to find a very specific style of boots that had eluded her in Dallas. She looked in what seemed like twenty shoe stores (I'm sure this is a slight exaggeration) with no success. Her shopping experience left her empty handed but her wallet was still full. As we made our way back to Broadway for a planned dinner at Ellen's Stardust Diner, Gerald and Erin took a few minutes to ride the Merry-Go-Round along the way.

I was happy to see them smiling. Brooke and Mike were party poopers. They parked themselves on a bench and muttered about how ridiculous it was that these two were acting so juvenile. To me, letting go and doing something a little silly is a sign that one is able to find joy in life. What do I know?

The diner where we ate dinner is one in which all of the wait staff are aspiring actors and actresses. In addition to waiting tables, they also perform live, singing a mix of pop, country, and show tunes. Gerald spent the entire meal flirting with our waiter. Somewhere there is a picture of Gerald and poor Justin the waiter, but it does not seem to be on my camera. I guess it is on Gerald's camera. He may have already taken it to Kinkos to have it blown up to poster-size! Thank goodness Justin was a really good sport!

After dinner, which ended with a little disappointment for Erin because they had no more strawberry shortcake (I think Erin only wanted dessert so that we could stay longer and she too could flirt with the waiter. Someone here definitely was going to be disappointed!), we made our way to the subway to begin our trip back to the hotel.

As we stood on the platform waiting for the train, I noticed Erin staring at a group of people standing slightly behind us. Her fixed look also caught Gerald's attention. Erin said that the girl in the group looked like Logan, one of the characters in Spelling Bee. At that point we all turned to look. Standing there with us were indeed three members of the cast that we had seen perform earlier in the day. Not being shy, we asked for pictures and autographs. They were all friendly and willing to oblige us. While waiting for the train we talked with them about the outrageous price of Broadway show tickets. They told us that their friends could not afford to buy tickets to come see their performances. They also said that life on the Broadway stage was no where near as glamorous as we might think. As our train approached and we all prepared to go our separate ways, they asked us, "So, which candidate do you support?" We allowed as to how we were the ones who responded loudly during the performance. We went our separate ways in solidarity.

We had a great day - great show, good food, a little shopping, and one of a kind friends.

Here is a look at the city at night.