The Millionaire saga, Day 3

Thursday, September 16:

We woke up around 7ish and started getting ready for Julie's big day.

Took a cab over to ABC Studios, chatting along the way with a very friendly cab driver, formerly from Turkey. He must not get a lot of talkative folks, because he thanked us profusely for chatting with him.

Since we had a little extra time, we decided to goof around across the street in Central Park.

The Central Park Mounted Policeman in his natural habitat.

Jennifer took quite a few foties.

Tim took quite a few phone calls.

Me, I was just trying to take in some architectural details.

The time came when we got in line, and lo, there was Julie's friend Levi! (unfortunately not pictured here.) Quick introductions all round. We were all asked to sign some sort of non-disclosure agreement involving firstborn children, I think; that fine print is hard to read.

The ABC people on this side of the building were very courteous and polite, almost to the point of being obsequious (as opposed to the folk working on the other side of the building, about whom I shall have more to say presently). Around 11:15 or so we were all shepherded into the building, allowed a bathroom break (our only one for the day) and seated in the game studio. There was a stand-up comedian on site whose job, as far as I could tell, was adult babysitter -- he warmed up the crowd, working very slightly blue. I was kind of embarrassed for Mom's sake at some of his jokes -- not that she hadn't heard that kind of material before, but she doesn't like hearing it.

Anyway, there was a backlog of contestants from the previous day of taping, so it took a while to get around to Julie. She ended up being the last contestant of the taping session, and she had to be kept over to the next day. So they wrapped things up and we all departed.

As we were being herded out of the building, the ABC people on the other side were singularly stern and unfriendly. No smiles, no "thanks for coming," no questions -- everything about their demeanor said "Get out. Now." Mom is diabetic and just got over some terrible back troubles, and she was worn out from taping and badly needed a restroom break, but they wouldn't let her use the restroom or even sit down on the premises (at first). When they noticed Mom was hanging onto Tim for dear life as though she might faint at any second, they grudgingly let her sit on a bench, but told Tim he couldn't do so. Tim replied that he didn't need or want to sit down, but this harpy woman from ABC watched him anyway to make sure he didn't try. Mom ended up being really sick.

Julie pointed out later that there are a lot of crazy people in New York City who just want to meet a famous person and who will do all sorts of insane things to try to get into the ABC building, so the people who work there become particularly inured to sob stories of any kind. If they knew anything at all about my mom, who is about as down-to-earth and as non-starstruck as anyone gets, they might at least have recognized the irony in all this. Still, they could see Mom was in obvious distress and they did as little as possible to help her.

It struck me that the process of fame is very much like our treatment at ABC. When your star is rising, everyone treats you with gushy deference. But when it's falling, they shun you, and shrews like Perez Hilton mock you to your face. Not exactly a desirable state of affairs.

Anyway, a thunderstorm of apocalyptic proportions appeared to be brewing over Columbus Circle. We hightailed it over to Barnes & Noble and went up multiple flights of escalators before finally finding the ladies' room, where Mom could be sick in peace at least. Meanwhile, Storm of Doom 2010 was raging outside, with green-and-black skies and multiple thunderbolts.

Figuring that if it was the end of the world I might as well have some good reading material for it, I picked up a Shakespeare biography by Bill Bryson. (It's very good so far.)

When Mom was feeling a little better, we managed to flag down a cabbie and got back to the hotel where she could get properly washed up and changed. We thought she might want some rest, so the rest of us sibs (and Levi) walked a few blocks away to a sushi restaurant where we ate and talked for some time. Figuring Mom might be hungry enough to eat something substantial, we picked up some seafood teriyaki and brought it back to her.

Mom was glued to the TV, watching the storm coverage; I guess it did a lot of damage in the other boroughs and was being considered for hurricane status or something similar. The area where we were staying got some hard rain, but was otherwise unscathed. But on the TV we saw downed trees and power lines, and heard of at least one storm-related death. The best part of the news was hearing of some recent immigrants from Haiti living in Brooklyn, who were used to hurricanes and who went out and matter-of-factly cleared away downed trees with their machetes. Right on.

Since Mom was content to stay where she was...

...and since Tim wasn't going to have much time in New York...

...the rest of us sibs hit the subway and took him to Times Square at night.

Da glitz!

Da glamour!

Meh, whatev.

Tim really seemed to enjoy himself, which surprised me a bit as he sometimes has trouble with crowded places. Then again, it wasn't particularly crowded at night.

While in Times Square, we went into the Roxy Deli and ordered ludicrously huge slices of cheesecake (mine was the toffee Heath bar crunch, and I ate every bite because I am a pig. Nom nom nom). When we were as full of cheesecake as we could be, we went out again and wandered around looking at the sights.

Dangit, why can't I be as cute as my sisters? I ask you!

Maybe eating all that cheesecake has something to do with it.

Anyway, Jennifer went into H&M to do some late-night shopping. Then she and I went back to the hotel while Tim and Julie wandered around Greenwich Village in the dark, looking at little boutiques where Tim might possibly sell his wares. I think Tim's comment was that although he could never live in New York, he and Tara would have to come back to visit.

Eventually we all fell into bed.