Family of One Attends Stephen Sondheim's 80th Birthday Celebration

About twenty-one years ago, I had one of the most fabulous weekends of my life in New York City. When I tell you about it, you will think that I am making it all up. But, it really happened and I have only recently been able to enjoy it because it was so painful to think that those times were over.

I stayed at the delightful and charming hotel called the Wyndham, not part of any chain, but more of an apartment hotel on W. 58th Street, just across from the Plaza. The suites were reasonable and huge and decorated in wonderful chintzes. Lots of folks appearing on Broadway would stay there. So, it was like coming home to stay in one of those suites.

On Thursday night, I took one of my favorite beaus (a man whom I saw off and on for over twenty years) to a restaurant called Aurora where I had been very friendly with the chef for a couple of years. I thought it was oh so French to take a current lover to the restaurant of a former lover and, indeed, we had a fabulous meal. As I walked out of the restaurant which was at 49th Street and Madison Avenue, I had one of those incredible magical moments in NYC. It was a very foggy night and the fog was all around, but you could see the tops of some of the building over it. I stood by myself and savored how lucky I was to be in New York and all that I had to look forward that weekend.

On Friday night, I saw the stupendous show, Jerome Robbins' Broadway which was such a treat for one who loves musicals as I do. On Saturday, I met a good friend for gingerbread pancakes in the cafe at the Hotel Pierre and then saw The Heidi Chronicles by Wendy Wasserstein starring Joan Allen. That night, I went to a restaurant down on Seventh Avenue South that my chef friend recommended. It was called Rakel and there was a hot new chef in the kitchen. I found it energetic, if unremarkable, and returned to my suite where I did the most unlikely thing and went to sleep at 9:30. By the way, the chef's name was Thomas Keller.

On Sunday, I saw a revue called Black and Blue followed by dinner at Cafe Luxembourg. After the dinner was the real piece de resistance of this enchanted weekend--a salute to Stephen Sondheim by the NY Gay Men's Chorus with "special guests" at Lincoln Center

I wore the most divine LBD of pure wool which I had purchased at Jaeger and featured a cowl neck, cinched waist, and came just above the knee. I had on sheer black hose (remember those days?) and three inch black pumps, classy, but not stilettos. I was beside myself with excitement to be wearing this outfit and going to this show and to have had this NYC weekend. I would never have suspected that would be my last NYC weekend by myself for many years which is probably why it has been so painful to remember it.

The show was remarkable. There was Elaine Stritch singing Ladies Who Lunch and the ladies from Follies and the original cast of Company. There was such an excitement in the air because everyone just knew that Sondheim would make an appearance even though those around me said that he was very shy and usually did not attend these concerts. In 1989, there was not one of us at the concert who had not been personally affected by AIDS, so there was a very bittersweet energy as well. The most moving part of the night was when the chorus sang "Our Time" and "Not a Day Goes by". Tears rolled down my face as I saw the looks of yearning and acceptance and devotion and affection on the faces of so many around me. Most people were quietly weeping as well. Suddenly, from the back of Avery Fisher Hall, came a slight, bearded figure running down the aisle with amazing speed. In reality, he was probably just striding, but, in my memory, he was running. He had a huge smile. It was Stephen Sondheim. Every single person leapt to his feet and was clapping, clapping and crying and laughing and hugging the people around him. It took my breath away and remains, to this day, one of my most poignant theater-going experiences. The quality of the show, the affirmation of hope amongst such sadness, and the connection that we all felt in the audience will be with me always.

Later this weekend, I will be going to another show in NYC--this one saluting Stephen Sondheim's 80th birthday. I look forward to letting you know about this show. And, I am grateful beyond words to be back on my path to NYC, having wonderful meals, seeing dear and devoted friends, and wearing a new black dress that may not approach the sexiness of the Jaeger LBD, but which I have to admit looks pretty damn good.