Paul Blart, WICKED!, and more.

Cindy and I met Loni Thursday at Victoria's Secret where she works. Well, Cindy did. I wanted to wander around the store just looking at pictures but they wouldn't let me. We actually took Loni to lunch at Puleo's Grill (think: All the Best of Southern, Italian, and Seafood). We shared a chocolate/Oreo cookie/hazelnut mousse. I cannot describe it so I won't try.

Then we went to West Towne Mall and I wandered around while Cindy went.....shopping at Victoria's. She went to exchange some make up Loni had bought her, but Loni ended up selling her more....stuff...ahem. Anyway, I saw the mall cops ("observe and report") keeping the mall safe from the Viet Cong or the NOKO's or somebody like that. At least I did not see any commies running around so they must be effective. Well, I see this one on his segway zipping around being effective and I tried to take a picture of him, but, alas, he was to zippy. Then just as Cindy came out from buying her...stuff....he stopped and talked to his supe, and Cindy said, "Quick! Take a picture!" (I was so proud of her.) So I did, and the supe caught me and came over and very officially told me, "No pictures in the mall." I was a little taken aback at his confidence. I mean, here is Barney Fife, or would be Barney Fife but they don't even give this guy a bullet to carry in his pocket. So I said, "OK...or what?" "It's just policy. No pictures of the mall or mall personnel." I liked the way he intoned "personnel". It sounded like the CIA guy I took a class with once. When everyone introduced themselves, he said, "John Doe, U.S. Government." Everyone knew he worked for the CIA in some back cubicle just like the rest of us in some office building doing less important work than any of us, but by darn, he was CIA and had a directory with very important phone number in it, yes he did. By darn. Well, I was half...well more than half....hoping that Paul Blart would demand I delete my pictures or demand I surrender my phone. To which I was going to reply, "Or...what?" I was doing a social experiment. I wanted him to kick me out of the mall. Then I would tell him "Look, I've been to West Towne Mall twice in 15 years. Kick me out. Please." But of course he just said it was mall policy. So Cindy and left and even she was snickering under her breath. I was so pleased with her performance. Normally, she would have pulled me away, telling me to stop being rude, or quit picking a fight or I was going to end up in jail. But I think that, after Brigham whacked the biker bully with his fish net for yelling at Jamee, Cindy was ready to let me stand up to Officer Observer and Patrolman Reporter.

We drove 4 hours Friday to Charlotte to see "Wicked" (more on that in a moment) with Mike and Phyl Moffat and stopped to eat at Red Lobster in Gastonia (could be Gastronomia since we ate there). Very good food. Oh. Nice. I, of course, ate too much. But so did they, so it's OK.

Then we drove down the road a bit to Belmont, NC to the Hampton Inn. We are Hilton Honors members. We are the white trailer trash of the Hilton Honor club meaning we only stay at Hampton Inns and never at Hiltons, and that we stay so seldom that it's going to take through the Millennium to earn a free night. By then, Gog and Magog will own all the hotels and won't honor our points. I'm sure that will be one of the causes of the last and final war. The hotel was nice. But see below.
It was the worst night I've ever had at a Hampton. Usually they are wonderful. Did I mention we are Hilton Honors members? Well, we are. So I'm up at 5:58 am and head down to breakfast, always a highlight of my stay. At 6:10 on Memorial Weekend Saturday morning, the fire alarm goes off in the entire building. It's loud, it's meant to wake the dead, and even drunk guests. Cindy was asleep, but when she wakes up she means it as she's a morning person, so she at first thinks it's the alarm clock but quickly realizes it the FIRE alarm. Still, I finished my breakfast, watched the kitchen and front desk crew try to figure out what to do (obviously they do not drill), and then sauntered up stairs, to find every woman on our floor standing in the hall in her pajamas. I didn't need Victoria's Secret, after all. Good things come to those who wait...
Here comes Cindy wandering down the hall looking disheveled but beautiful. "What's going on?" "The fire alarm is going off." "Why?" "Apparently there's a fire." "Where?" "They think in the kitchen, but there's no smoke, and they are arguing right now over whether it's a real fire or just a false alarm. The fire department is on the way."

Mike said he was in the shower and got out with his hair all matted down, and soaking wet and threw on some clothes, while Phyl truly believed it was the clock radio and was busy beating the hell out of it because it would not turn off. She even unplugged it from the wall, but apparently it was possessed and still would not stop. These two are very interesting people. It never gets old, being their friends.

So all the women went back for clothes, and I went back to second breakfast (it was not time for elevensies, yet), and they eventually ordered all of us out of the building. Cindy took the above picture of the truck, and Phyl mentioned how young and good looking all the firemen were. I told here we'd buy her the "Boys of Belmont Fire Department 2010 Calender". She just laughed but did not say not to. They reset the fire alarm, and I'm sure charged the hotel for the call, and my wife and friends ate breakfast. We had to check out by noon, and the play did not start until 2 pm so we had plenty of time. I took a nap, and then we drove the very complicated route to the auditorium in east Charlotte, which took about a half hour longer SHORTER than I figured. This meant that we were the very first ones in the parking lot and got the very best spot. At 11:30. Doors open at 1, house opens at 1:30. We have an hour and a half in the heat and humidity of Charlotte to wait. There is nothing around there to do. No restaurants. Nothing. Just a closed up bowling alley, a bar, and a Texaco about a quarter mile down the road. So...we sat and waited...and I wiped my head off about every 30 seconds.

They let us in at 1 sharp and we got to stand around for a half an hour and buy expensive cokes and eat M&M's and goof off. The lobby filled quickly and got crowded, but the atmosphere was electric. Many of these people have seen the play more than once, at a hundred bucks a pop. And I understand why.

We drank so much diet coke that when we finally went in to sit down, I had been to the restroom twice already. The first act was 1.5 hours long, then an intermission. We had seats in the main floor, off to the right, toward the back. Not a bad seat in the house, really, and fortunately for us we were near the doors. With about 20 minutes until intermission, we all had to pee so bad we were sort of rocking in our seats with our legs crossed. Most people were. Some had been drinking alcohol which makes it even worse. When the lights came up and the curtain went down for intermission, even before they announced it, the place was stampeding to the doors. We beat them all. Mike and I still had to stand in line to pee. I was about to go outside around the corner in some bushes, but there actually cops out there walking around looking for people like me. I made it, but when I came out, the man line was 50 guys long and the woman lines (two) was like getting season tickets to the Broncos: you can try this year, but you might have to wait until next. We went to our seats and Cindy and Phyl were there. "Did you go pee!" Cindy said, "Oh, yeah! We beelined it. We beat everyone!" Seldom have I seen her so excited.

The musical was the best thing I have ever seen. I cannot describe the wonderful uplifting feeling I got and still have. I might say that I actually felt the Spirit of the Lord bear witness to me of some truths. The messages, the acting, the singing, the dancing, were all perfect.

I cannot do justice to it. If you ever get a chance to go, please do it. It's worth every penny. I will go back as soon as possible. We want to take Loni. She will weep at it. So will you.

On the way home we took a different route since Interstate 40 west in North Carolina is down to one lane near the Tennessee line and there was a 14 mile backup on that side on the way over. They are still repairing the rock slide that occurred over a year ago. It totally buried the entire interstate for over a year. This happens about every five years or so. It's a windy, curvy, mountainous stretch with narrow lanes and cliffs and bad weather, heavy rain, heavy snow, ice storms and high winds. On good days, there is heavy fog. So coming back we took US 25/70 which is so curvy you kiss your own butt going around the curves. But we had a pleasant drive and laughed our heads off except when we didn't.

Please. Go see Wicked. Don't read the book. It's not uplifting, and it's not pleasant. The musical is....inspired and inspiring.