Well, I still have the dregs of Covid, enough to make doing a live 2OTA potentially disastrous. Masking (following those protocols) and coughing (those errant coughs) and pushing the wrong buttons and fogging up my glasses (plus jostling those headphones) was all enough to put me off tomorrow's show.
So Ethel will be tapping her foot, impatiently waiting to celebrate her birthday in the wings. We'll put that "cake" in the freezer, hell! just leave it on the porch... and thaw in a timely fashion for next week, okay? Sorry sorry sorry. I'd much rather being chatting and spinning Broadway for you than sitting on my hands in Siberi...I mean Kendall, "knitting" by the "fire". (Which means scrolling by the radiator.)
See you next week, even if I have to come by dogsled, and wear a hamster bubble.
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