This morning I was snuggled in bed thinking about the day ahead.  I had an appointment to give blood.  They tell you to have a big meal beforehand so I decided pancakes were in order.  As I started to stretch with happiness,  my left calf went medieval on me.  After several long silent screams, I felt the muscle untie itself.   This could have been a bad omen for the day ahead, but I don't believe in omens. 

I went ahead with the pancakes.  I go back and forth between the full Bisquick recipe and the just-add-water pancake mix.   Traditionalists may disagree, but the Bisquick cakes, with the eggs and milk added, go down heavy.  Too heavy, sometimes.  Today I made the Krusteaz instant cakes and they were light and fluffy and just what I deserved. 

The Red Cross folks were happy to see me.   My blood is quite the elixir.  I'm O-Positve ("the universal donor") and CMV negative (I don't have a herpes-type virus that is present in 50% to 80% of the adult population - and you didn't believe me when I said I was only in Amsterdam for the giggle weed).  They can give my blood to babies and pregnant chicks, no problem.  Whoever gets it, I feel like the more my blood gets out there, the more love there is in the world. 

I had my phone in my pants pocket while I was giving blood.  It rang.  People at the snack table heard it.  They all start looking around and I hear, "Somebody's phone is ringing."  So what?  It's not yours.  Go back to your cookies!

In my car afterwards I checked the message.  It was Pinkus, driving South on the 405 towards Costa Mesa.  I felt no sense of urgency to return the call.  As far as I can recall, nothing good ever happened in Costa Mesa. 

They say to have a big meal afterwards, so when I got home I made a fried egg sandwich.  Just as the two eggs where sliding out of the pan onto the lightly toasted sheepherder's bread, the phone rang.  Pinkus again.  I pick up.  He's in Long Beach now, still on the 405.  He wants me to meet him in Costa Mesa to see Jesus Christ Superstar.  Show starts at 2:00.  It's now 1:20.  After five minutes of arguing that I don't have time, I agree to go.  I take one bite of the sandwich and slide the rest into the trash (you can't save a fried egg sandwich for later - it's a time sensitive entree).  I don a clean shirt and jump in the car. 

At 1:55 I jog up to the front of the Segerstrom Theater and meet Pinkus.  This is big, he says.  He has seen the play over twenty times, but today Ted Neeley is playing Jesus.  Neeley played Jesus in the '73 movie and countless times on stage before retiring from the role - he even did a farewell tour.  No hardcore fan would miss what was in effect a career resurrection (the day was full of biblical wit, the most frequently heard was that, at his age, Neeley should think about playing Moses). 

So I saw the play for the first time and it was terrific - I see what all the fuss is about.  Pinkus says every show he's seen is different.  He pointed out at least two things he'd never seen before.  One was a Last Supper scene where Jesus and the twelve apostles freeze for about thirty seconds positioned as in Da Vinci's famous painting (a tip of the hat, perhaps, to the nearby Laguna Beach Pageant of the Masters).

The other was at the end.  There's a death scene that takes place (Spoiler Alert!) on a cross.  After five minutes of huffing and puffing and forgiving, Jesus dies.  There's thunder and lightning and then HE ASCENDS off of the cross and into Heaven (or the rafters).   It was visually impressive, inspired perhaps by the work Franco Dragone is doing in Vegas, in particular what he achieved with Celine Dion's New Day.  I suspect cables were involved, but Jesus was shirtless, so I'm guessing he wore some type of prosthetic torso.  Anyway, it was a first for Pinkus and I'm glad I witnessed it too.

Epiphany - Half the fun of special events it the time you spend looking forward to them.  Pinned on the wall in front of me is an envelope that reads, "THE BOSS 4/8/08."  There's plenty of psychic income that comes from knowing I've got good seats for Springsteen in Anaheim, and I'll be cashing those paychecks every day for three months.  But that doesn't mean that I shouldn't stay open to life's last minute opportunities.  As I watched Jesus and his posse enjoy their Last Supper, I realized that for the first half of the day I was thinking only about the body and blood of Rocky.  But before the sun would set I would be reminded that there's something out there much bigger than me and my worldly concerns.  There's Broadway, baby.