I saw Fish in the Dark at the Cort Theatre in NYC for my birthday and I must say that the show was pretty, pretty, good. I got the seats on a whim, or seat that is, but I’ll get to that later. I was watching Curb Your Enthusiasm on HBO and I must have Googled something in reference to the show because before you know it, I was presented with an ad for Larry David’s Fish in the Dark and I’ve always hated how cocky Google is when she guesses what I’m going to type after just one letter which reminds me of that television show Name That Tune where two people would compete to see who could name the song in the fewest number of notes, and when one guy would say “I can name that tune in one note,” their competitor would say ‘name that tune’; that guy never got it right and neither does Google.
But what Google did get right was in presenting me with a Larry David ad, probably more luck than good algorithm, and if there was Larry David toilet paper with his face on it, I’d buy at least two rolls and my fear is that somehow Google knows this; the NSA has nothing on Google…just waiting for a Google whistleblower.
My girlfriend was supposed to be heading to the left cost that morning and we had only been together for a year and I didn’t bring it up in the beginning, my birthday that is, and knowing that she’d be leaving a year later, I wouldn’t mention it, and I thought she forgot and she remembered so well, I found her sleeping on my couch when I arrived home from work on my birthday eve. She asked what I was doing for my birthday and asked if she could join and I told her I had a date with the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. She, of course, smacked me, hard…her take is that she’s the only one on the planet who really gets me and who would find me even remotely attractive and I don’t argue because I know she’s way out of my league and that works because I wouldn’t want to date anyone who is in my league. She wanted to come to the play and I wanted her to but her being there presented a challenge. If I had known a day sooner, I could have made provisions but this surprise, she so sucks at surprises, had me back on my heels which makes them hurt if I stand for a long time.
Larry David is my writing guru but maybe guru isn’t the correct term and maybe it only works if I studied personally with him so perhaps I should use ‘Idol’ and not the Billy ‘White Wedding’ kind or the type where I’d have to call an 800 # and vote for my favorite but I feel I have that connection with him where I think he thinks like I think, or so I thought, at least I think. I purchased the ticket under the guise of Larry David as the star and it wasn’t until I mentioned it to a friend and he told me that although Larry David had written the play, he was replaced by Jason Alexander early in June which seems somewhat appropriate as Jason was Larry by proxy for the entire show run of Seinfeld so I would have to imagine that Jason “Koko” Alexander is used to delivering lines written by Larry, and this would be the Summer of George or Jason or Larry and Jason.
The play is about a functioning yet dysfunctional family in the aftermath of the death of the patriarch and I’ve found that death either brings people closer together or pushes them further apart…this play somehow did both. There were more than a few Larryisms which had the characters trying to interpret society’s rules for which there currently aren’t any.
FITD highlighted that Ghandi once said “you can’t shake hands with a closed fist” to which the characters responded with a fist bump and the idea having a eulogy while the person is alive so the deceased, or soon to be, can hear it. And how once a person is dead, you shouldn’t spend any money on them: “we don’t spend money on the dead.” I also learned that ‘dickhead’ is the ‘cunt’ equivalent, at least for the male characters and that you shouldn’t tip a doctor, well, some doctors; others actually require it. And that it’s okay for teenage boys to sleep with elderly women, just as long as the woman’s dead husband is the teenager’s father and she thinks the boy is the ghost of her husband’s younger self.
All in all, the play was very Seinfeld-like or Curb Your Enthusiam-esque, or maybe even Sour Grapes-ish (Larry David’s 1998 movie which had two cousins going to Atlantic City with their girlfriends and one wins a jackpot with the other’s quarters and the debate begins - whose money is it? Each girlfriend thinks the other guy is right and other characters add texture by aligning with one character and contradicting the other) would be the most accurate portayal.
The play did make me realize a few things: I don’t want to die alone. I want to live alone, I just don’t want to die alone. It also made me see that people sometimes, most times, have petty motivations that are typically trumped by the issue at hand, sometimes a big issue like death, but not in their head.
During the break, I went to the concession to get a water. $5 later, I had a 12oz water in hand and I wanted to see what else was on the menu. They had things like snow caps and booze in cans, not beer but like mixed drinks….and then I saw it, and I couldn’t believe it. Could it have been done on purpose or was it a happy accident? Even though I had to cough up another Abraham, or five Georges, it was worth it. I opened the Junior Mints and, of course, with one resting on my palm, I offered one to my girlfriend. She, having impeccable comic timing and the memory of all things Seinfeld, held her hand up and refused but I insisted and held my palm by her face. She said she didn’t want any and I insisted, and she pushed my hand away, perhaps a bit too hard, she is stronger than she looks, and the Junior Mint, flew from my hand, hit the canopy in front of the balcony, and went over the edge.
I’m not sure what happened to the mint: it’s possible it just landed on the floor, it could have plopped into a drink to add some minty refreshment, or maybe landed in the body cavity of someone having surgery. I didn’t know and I didn’t want to know; I just passed her the mints and for the next few minutes, I pretended I didn’t know her just in case security came to investigate.
My girlfriend did stay over and it was my birthday and I was hoping for some post play coitus, it’s the sixth best kind of sex after ‘fugitive’ and ‘make-up’ and ‘honeymoon’ and ‘angry’ and ‘twins’ but in staying with the spirit of FITD, she didn’t want sex to ruin the relationship.
