I have a confession to make.
I’ve been having a love affair with Allison Janney for years.
Matt knows. In fact, he’s been there for most of it.
It all started with C.J. Cregg on The West Wing. Smart, sharp, funny, confident, and capable of putting just about anyone in their place with a single look. I was hooked.
Then came Mom, and my admiration turned into something resembling a long-term relationship.
For at least two years, I watched reruns of Mom almost every night before going to sleep. Some people need ocean sounds, meditation music, or a little lavender on their pillow.
I needed Bonnie Plunkett.
There’s something wonderfully comforting about falling asleep to a recovering alcoholic with a spectacularly dysfunctional family and absolutely no filter.
And bless Matt. Night after night, the same episodes, the same jokes, the same Allison Janney. He never once suggested that perhaps we might watch something else.
Well, perhaps he did. I was usually asleep.
Now she’s in The Diplomat, and naturally, that’s on my list too. At this point, I think I’ve watched just about everything she’s ever appeared in. If Allison Janney did a commercial for hemorrhoid cream, I’d probably record it.
So when I discovered that she would be appearing on Broadway in Other Desert Cities during our trip to New York, there wasn’t much discussion.
We booked our airfare. We booked our hotel.
And then we bought theater tickets.
Some people plan vacations around museums, restaurants, or historical landmarks.
Apparently, I plan mine around Allison Janney.
But wait. It gets better.
The cast also included Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Ed Harris, and Lily Rabe.
ALL IN THE SAME PLAY.
I mean, come on. That’s not a cast. That’s an embarrassment of riches.
For our first Broadway play, we’d somehow managed to land tickets to see four extraordinary performers sharing one stage. Even if I hadn’t been carrying on my imaginary relationship with Allison for the better part of two decades, we would have had to go.
Of course, no evening involving Matt and me would be complete without some questionable logistical decisions.
We figured we’d grab dinner at a restaurant across the street from the theater about an hour before the show.
Plenty of time, right?
Wrong.
We managed to get a beer.
Food? Not so much.
Apparently, an hour before curtain is not the ideal time to sit down for dinner in the Theater District. Who knew?
Well, probably everyone who lives in New York.
But we had our beer, and I was already so excited about the evening that food seemed like a secondary concern.
Besides, we could always eat afterward.
Remember that thought. It becomes important later.
Then it was time for the theater.
And I have to say, I was surprised by how intimate the whole experience felt.
When you think of Broadway, you imagine enormous theaters, grand stages, and thousands of people. But the Hudson Theatre felt wonderfully close and personal. We were sitting in the dress circle, and the view was fantastic.
There was something almost surreal about sitting there, knowing that in a few minutes, people I’d watched on television and in movies for years would be standing onstage right in front of us.
No screen. No camera angles. No editing.
Just extraordinary actors doing what they do best.
And what a performance.
Other Desert Cities is not a lighthearted evening of musical numbers and tap dancing. It’s a heavy, emotionally charged family drama, full of complicated relationships, old wounds, secrets, and the kind of arguments that make you grateful your own family gatherings usually end with dessert rather than a complete emotional reckoning.
The entire cast was fantastic.
Julia Louis-Dreyfus, whom most of us know for making us laugh, was wonderful in a much more dramatic role. Ed Harris brought that unmistakable intensity of his, and Lily Rabe was terrific.
And Allison.
Oh, Allison.
There she was. Right in front of me.
After years of C.J. Cregg, Bonnie Plunkett, and countless other characters, I was finally watching her perform live.
And she was everything I’d hoped.
There’s something special about seeing an actor you admire so much perform onstage. You realize just how talented they are when there’s no second take, no chance to stop and do it again, and nowhere to hide.
I loved every minute of it.
Well, perhaps loved isn’t quite the right word for such a heavy play. There were moments when you could practically feel the emotional weight in the room.
But what an experience.
And what a way to see our first Broadway production.
When the curtain came down, I wasn’t quite ready for the evening to be over.
Naturally, I had one more mission.
The stage door.
Now, I’ve never been much of an autograph hunter. But this was Allison Janney. The woman I’d spent hundreds of evenings falling asleep with.
Surely, after all we’d been through together, I deserved at least a hello.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get an autograph.
But I did get some photographs, and more importantly, I got to see her up close as she greeted people after the performance.
And she was exactly as I’d imagined.
Gracious. Funny. Kind.
There’s always a little risk in meeting—or even briefly encountering—someone you’ve admired for years. You build up this image of who they are, and sometimes reality doesn’t quite live up to it.
Not tonight.
She was lovely.
My love affair continues.
And I think Matt has accepted that he’s simply going to have to share me.
By this point, however, there was another matter requiring our attention.
Dinner.
Remember how we’d decided we could just eat after the show?
Well, apparently Harry Styles had other plans.
We headed back toward our hotel, figuring we’d find somewhere nearby to grab a bite.
Unfortunately, we’d managed to time our return with the end of a Harry Styles concert.
Suddenly, Midtown seemed to be filled with approximately every Harry Styles fan on the Eastern Seaboard, all apparently looking for food at the exact same time we were.
Excellent planning on our part.
First, we couldn’t eat before the show.
Then, we couldn’t easily eat after the show.
At this point, I was beginning to think the real drama of the evening wasn’t happening onstage. It was happening in our stomachs.
But even with the dining fiasco, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
We’d seen a remarkable play with an extraordinary cast, experienced Broadway for the first time, and I’d finally gotten to see a woman whose work has brought me so much joy over the years.
And tomorrow, The Diplomat returns.
Apparently, it’s Allison Janney Week in our household.
As for tonight, no autograph, no dinner reservations, and no spontaneous invitation to join Allison for a beer.
But I got my photographs, a wonderful memory, and the satisfaction of knowing that after all these years, my imaginary relationship is still going strong.
Matt, bless his heart, remains a very understanding husband.
And Allison, if you’re reading this, I’m available for coffee.
Or dinner.
Preferably somewhere that serves food