Josh & Josh are Rich and Famous

The Weekend (In Pictures): Coney Island

//Josh K.

Josh & Josh Do In the Heights

Lin-Manuel Miranda, star and creator of the Broadway musical In The Heights, in his dressing room at the Richard Rogers Theater. (Photo by Josh K.)

Robin de Jesus, (Sonny) backstage at In The Heights. (Photo by Josh K.)

A year ago we saw the musical In The Heights when it was Off-Broadway and earning rave reviews. (Check out our first In The Heights story and interview.) In The Heights, set in the northern Manhattan neighborhood of Washington Heights over one fateful Fourth of July weekend, follows the trajectory of two young couples falling in love and one very lucky lottery ticket.

Last week Josh and I had the chance to see the show again as it prepared to open in its new digs on the Great White Way and, afterward, chatted backstage with two of the show's stars.

Josh & Josh: Congratulations on the big move to Broadway! Has the show changed a lot since moving from off-Broadway?

Robin de Jesus: It has really changed, but to someone who only saw it once Off-Broadway, you wouldn’t necessarily notice the differences, or you’d notice an energy shift, or you’d think things were a little clearer. But the heart of the show is still there.

Lin-Manuel Miranda: We’ve done a lot. We’ve been working. There are four new songs in Act II. When most new shows move to Broadway they cut, cut, cut. We only cut two songs. The lesson we took from Off-Broadway was that we needed to take more time telling our story, not less.

J&J: What is it about this show that critics and audiences love so much?

Robin de Jesus: You know, the story of “In the Heights” is simple. You’ve heard it before. But this time you’re hearing amazing, different music, and there’s just so much heart.

Over the Weekend

42nd Street | Saturday, February 9th, 7:52 p.m. | The Met Life building, Grand Central Terminal, and the Chrysler building in a brief respite from the rain.

//Josh K.

Merry Christmas from Minnesota

Photos by Josh K.

Josh K. in the British Virgin Islands

Two weeks ago today I landed at the Beef Island Airport on Tortola to spend eight days with my family drifting along on our catamaran sailboat. I hadn't been back to the boat since college, so I was excited that everyone's schedules finally matched up so I could go. Unfortunately, for reasons that I won't get into here, my twin sisters had to opt out at the last minute. I was pretty bummed; what started out as a great big family vacation ended up being just me, my dad, and my stepmom. Trying to be optimistic, I looked at it as an opportunity to get a lot of reading done. So I packed my carry-on with a handful of back issues of the New Yorker, a couple books (More Tales of the City and The Emperor's Children), a pair of flipflops, sunglasses, and a swimsuit. Though I missed my sisters, I still had an amazing time.

Let's start at the beginning.

I arrived earlier than my dad and stepmom, so I headed on over to the boat to get settled in. For the life of me, I couldn't remember how to turn on the lights, so I sat in the dark playing with ...

... a flashlight. I took a long nap (I didn't sleep the night before), and waited. Six hours later, they showed up and turned on the lights. This is where I slept for the next 8 nights:

The next day we loaded up on groceries and set sail for Norman Island, where I bared my pale flesh to test the waters. It was so warm. You know that cozy, warm water you get when you're in a pool and you're swimming and you're having a good time and you realize you have to pee but you really don't want to deal with the hassle of getting out of the water so you just go right then and there? Warm like that.

We made our way to shore ...

... where we had dinner on the beach. The rest of the week was more of the same: sailing in the morning and early afternoon (all the islands are really close to each other), swimming once anchored to cool off, charming restaurants on shore at night, then falling asleep to the lapping of water on the hull.

The next morning we sailed to Cooper Island, where I was chased out of the water by a giant barracuda.

I stuck my head in just to make sure it was a Barracuda. It was. I didn't go back in the water for a couple hours.

A little while later, I swam to shore and found some pretty rocks ...

... and watched the sunset from the beach.

The next day, we spotted a sea turtle in the North Sound of Virgin Gorda. It swam away before I could get a better picture.

We went ashore to Leverick Bay on Virgin Gorda to escape the heat and take a tour of the island ...

... and eventually made our way to the Baths:

After a good night's sleep, we set sail for Anegada, the BVI's most unique island (and also my favorite), which is home to the world's third largest coral reef. Unlike the other islands, Anegada is completely flat and a little bit further away.

We went ashore and caught a rusty old taxi to my favorite beach in the world ...

... Loblolly Bay:

Walking along the deserted, undeveloped shores of the Loblolly Bay beach, you get the sense that you're far, far away from the rest of the world. And it feels good. Liberating. This is not New York City and I'm on vacation, you think to yourself, staring through the crystal-clear bathwater at your feet.

We ended the night with dinner at the Anegada Reef Hotel, where the lobsters they serve for dinner are caught a hundred yards from shore. The green light on the water was really pretty (and I finally got a tan):

Sunset at Cane Garden Bay, Tortola:

I can't wait to go back.

//Josh K.

Vacation Pictures: The British Virgin Islands, Minneapolis, and Provincetown

Well hello!

I'm behind on my picture posts and I have some catching up to do. I was sailing in the British Virgin Islands last week and I have tons of pictures to share, and earlier this summer I was in Provincetown and Minneapolis. So I'm working on weeding through the crap to get to the good shit. Coming soon: vacation photos galore! I know you're excited. In the meantime, I'll start with these three.

Cooper Island | One of my favorite beaches in the BVI is also home to a small, gay-owned resort, the Cooper Island Beach Club. Climbing out of our dinghy to get to dinner on shore, my dad turns to me and says "You know, Josh, Cooper Island Beach Club is owned by two gay guys." I look at him and smile excitedly, "Really?" "Yep. They do a nice job, don't they?" In the center of the image is our boat.

Vigin Gorda | Seventies porn star or faggy twink? You decide.

Norman Island | Me, in a late afternoon swim at The Bight on Norman Island. Here's a video (that I found on YouTube) of a sunset at The Bight:

//Josh K.

Weekend in The Adirondacks: Part Two (Mountains and Bears, Oh My)

On our second day in the Adirondacks, waking up at our camp site on Saranac Lake, we fired up our little one-burner camping stove to make breakfast. Dylan, Addison, Evan and I had bowls of oatmeal and fresh fruit before setting out in our canoes for an hour-long paddle to Ampersand Mountain.

The view on the paddle to Ampersand Mountain.

We parked our canoes on a secluded beach and made our way to the foot of Ampersand. The climb started normally enough, following a slowly winding path, occasionally strewn with rocks and stones.

Then, friends, things took a turn.

Let me preface all of this by saying that I've hiked mountains in Colorado and Alaska, and also hiked Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in Scotland and the United Kingdom. I'm not so much a slouch when it comes to a good hike. But Ampersand? To quote a seasoned hiker we talked to the next day: "Ampersand is a bitch."

The meandering paths turned into straight up inclines, sometimes covered in mud and craggy boulders on what was supposed to be our casual afternoon hike. We went straight up with every step for fifteen minutes, then a half an hour, then well over an hour. Then two hours. Straight on, straight up, over rocks and boulders. It kept going.

Three-quarters of the way up the mountain I was convinced that the hike was over for me. "You guys, seriously, I think I'm just going to park my butt here and you can get me on the way down," I said.

Addison, Evan, and Dylan just smiled. They didn't say anything. I sighed and kept on marching up the mountain.

The view from the top made every aching and protesting muscle and tendon on the way up well worth it.

Addison and Evan near the top of Ampersand.

A view from the top.

Addison and Evan, engaged to be married next year, share a kiss near the peak.

Your faithful blogger, Josh H., at the top, totally grungy and washed out by the sun in this pic.

Addison, Evan, and Dylan after our ascent.

We made our descent, reclaimed our canoes, and paddled back to our site.

We made it back to our site just in time to watch the sun set. Addison built another roaring fire and we cooked dinner, afterward lazing around the fire pit to chat and eat s'mores until bedtime.

That night, however, we had a surprise visitor in our campsite.

In the middle of the night Dylan woke up in our tent, sure that he'd heard something outside. He quickly determined that it wasn't Addison or Evan and lifted his head to peek out of the tent's screen window. There, a matter of feet away, stood a brown bear, sniffing around our camp.

We had hung every last morsel of our food that wasn't canned (and stashed our canned goods out of sight), but the bear evidently recognized a human settlement and associated it with food. The bear huffed around the picnic table and then toddled over toward our tent. Dylan's eyes widened as the bear sniffed at our canvas dwelling. Dylan made a noise inside the tent and the bear stopped in its tracks. Without further fanfare it dawdled off back to the forest.

But not, of course, before chomping into our roll of aluminum foil sitting on the picnic table.

See those tear marks in the foil? Yep, bear teeth. Our clever little brown bear must have associated aluminum foil with food and took a nibble. (The jaw span is almost as wide as the roll of foil, by the way.) Not finding any food, the bear must have decided that our camp was no longer very interesting.

The next morning Dylan and I awoke early and decided to take the canoe out around the bay of the lake where we stayed. The stillness, quiet, and beauty of it all was a nice contrast to life in Manhattan.

The bear's visit was the hot topic of conversation and speculation back at camp during breakfast. When we'd finished eating we struck our site, taking everything down and doing our best to leave no trace that we'd ever been there.

We packed everything back into our canoes and paddled to a meeting place where the camping outfitters picked us up.

Soon we were back in our car after grabbing sandwiches and milk shakes, starting what would be a six-and-a-half hour drive back to New York City.

Weekend In The Adirondacks: Part One

On Friday afternoon Dylan and I packed up a car with our friends Addison and Evan and headed north from New York City to the Adirondacks. The seven-hour drive north went quickly (good music, conversation, and snacks never hurt), and we checked into a hotel in Lake Placid (the site of the 1980 Olympics and the famed USA vs. USSR hockey game, which spawned the movie Miracle).

In the morning we had breakfast at the hotel and then headed to our camping outfitters. They loaded us up with two Kevlar canoes, two tents, a tarp, and cooking gear. They dropped us off on the western corner of Lake Saranac, helped us load our canoes into the water, and we were off.


We were warned that a storm was on its way, but it quickly blew over. The 90-minute paddle to our camp site turned out to be gorgeous.

Addison and Evan canoe against the backdrop of the Adirondack Mountains.


When we arrived at our campsite, tucked into the bay of Weller Pond off Saranac Lake, we unloaded our gear from the canoes.


Soon we had our site set up.


Addison (right), a city boy who knows a few country tricks, started a fire in no time.


Dylan hung all of our food in the woods behind our site to keep bears from coming into our site for food.


Once camp was set up Evan took in the view from the cliff on our site.


We stayed up late talking around the campfire. After a couple hours we headed to bed, gearing up for the big day ahead.

Part Two Preview: We hike a mountain and end up with some great pictures. Then, later that night, a brown bear wanders into camp . . . 

Weekend in Provincetown: Part One (Josh H. Edition)

On Friday, after work, Dylan and I rented a little red Ford Escape and began the 300-mile journey from Manhattan to Provincetown, Massachusetts, for a three-day weekend.

During the first 50 minutes of the drive we made it a whopping eight miles. After that, though, traffic lightened up. Dylan and I took turns plugging in our iPods, listening to music while munching on snacks and talking. The six-hour drive through New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts, sped by surprisingly fast.

Dylan and I stayed at a house one of Dylan's friends owns. We had the place to ourselves, which was a treat, and got some of the best sleep we'd had in weeks. The bed was so high off the ground that it required a little jump to get into it.

Just steps from the back door of the house we were on the beach, looking out at dozens of moored sailboats in Provincetown Harbor.

On the left is Provincetown Town Hall and, on the right, the Pilgrim Monument. The 252-foot granite monument commemorates the 1620 landing of the pilgrims at Provincetown. (The Mayflower Compact was signed in Provincetown Harbor.) The monument, lit beautifully at night, can be seen almost everywhere in town, and while out in the harbor.

Doesn't the whole place kind of remind you of Stars Hollow, Connecticut?

Commerical Street in Provincetown, not far from Town Hall.

The Lobster Pot, a Provincetown institution.

The Crown and Anchor, another of Provincetown's famed institutions. It's actually a small complex made up of a dance club, hotel, restaurant, and performance space, among other things.

Dylan and I rented a sixteen-foot sailboat and spent part of an afternoon out on Provincetown Bay. Dylan wowed me with his sailing skills and I actually turned out to be not bad helping out on deck. The narrow strip of land in the distance is the very last of Massachusetts's hook out into the bay, leading to the Atlantic Ocean.

Each morning Dylan and I went out for breakfast (Cafe Heaven was a favorite) and then ventured out around Provincetown. In the afternoons we'd return to the house where Dylan would nap and I read. (I finished reading Middlesex while sitting on the back porch overlooking the bay. Middlsex is brilliant and is going on my favorite books list.) In the evenings we'd go out for dinner (Bubala's or Enzo) and then tuck in early, ready for bed after an evening shower and a day spent walking around the village in the summer sun.

--Josh H.

Josh & Josh Weekend: New York City and Beyond

On Saturday Josh and I had brunch in Hell's Kitchen. It was so hot that our favorite diner had shut their large windows and door to keep in the cool air. Over plates of breakfast food, Josh K. looked a little sullen.

"I think I need a break from this town," he said. "It's not that I don't like it here, because I do like it, but I think I need to get out of here for a little while."

I knew exactly what he meant.

One of the great truths of living in New York is that you have to leave it if you want to keep loving it. Even a day trip can work wonders.

I had an idea.

"Josh, why don't we catch a train tomorrow and head up to Beacon, New York? It's supposed to be a gorgeous ride, and they have the Dia museum up there."

For the first time at brunch Josh's eyes brightened. "I'm in."

We finished our brunch and walked out onto the street, heading northward to Central Park. We stayed on the shady side of the street to avoid the heat.

We walked up through the park to Bethesda Fountain . . .

. . . and settled in on the lawn just to the right of the fountain. Earlier we thought we'd settle in at Sheep Meadow, but it was clogged with clumps of people. At Bethesda we had the whole lawn to ourselves.

From our perch on the lawn we watched street dancers put on a somewhat acrobatic show near the west staircase of Bethesda. We watched an Asian wedding party take photos at the fountain. Josh and I read for a while, then ogled guys, gossiped, and soaked up some sun.

On Saturday night Josh, Dylan and I sat at the Columbus Circle fountain, eating a Whole Foods take-out dinner of sandwiches, sushi, and fruit.

Afterward Dylan and I headed back into Central Park and walked up to the Delacorte Theater, located in the park, to see The Public's Shakespeare in the Park production of Romeo & Juliet.

The reviews were right: The show was fantastic. Lauren Ambrose (Clare Fisher from Six Feet Under) played Juliet, swooning in one moment and bursting into real tears another. Camryn Manheim (The Practice, The L Word) worked it out as Nurse, playing up the bawdy comedy sometimes not emphasized by other productions. Romeo (Oscar Isaac) was sexy and equally as convincing as Juliet's lover.

One of the coolest parts of seeing Shakespeare in the Park is being in the theater itself, tucked into Central Park near 81st Street, with almost a third of the circular theater open to the park beyond. The show begins an hour before sunset, and as the show progresses it gets dusky, and then dark, which certainly suits the plot of Romeo & Juliet.

Afterward Dylan and I walked down the deserted Central Park West, arm in arm, until we found a cab in the West 70s and headed home.

On Sunday morning Josh and I set off on our adventure out of the city.

We went to Grand Central . . .

. . . and caught a Metro North train to Beacon, New York. (Yes, JK is taking a picture of me taking a picture of the train. Just because we're dorks like that.)

Just minutes outside of Manhattan the landscape turns into rivers, rolling hills, sailboats, and small mountains. We looked out the window for much of the 90-minute ride.

"I feel so much better already," Josh K. said. I did, too.

Josh K. and Josh H. just up the hill from Dia:Beacon, the 240,000 square foot modern art and installation space.

(A sign that you're becoming more of a New Yorker: in your head you begin calculating that you could fit 300 or 400 apartments in that amount of space. It's a frightening impulse.)

Dia grounds.

The cafe at Dia:Beacon, where the Joshes had an afternoon snack which may or may not have included a really yummy brownie.

Explore the Dia's wonderful collection here. (Pictures aren't allowed inside the exhibition space, otherwise we would have brought you a series of great photos.)

On the train ride home Josh K. fell asleep. I opened a book (Middlesex is amazing) and read as the train sped through the countryside. I looked over at Josh, his mouth falling open as he slept, and smiled. Later, when he awoke, he looked out the window and tapped my leg. I set down my book and we both looked out the window.

"Beautiful," I said. He nodded.