By Jessica Delfino, follow her on twitter.
The worst part of New York is leaving it. There is no easy way to do it. If you take a bus, it could flip over and decapitate you. If you take a train, you have to ride on a train. Driving isn’t even an option.
But when a strange man invited me out of the blue to sing my ditties in a syndicated TV show that he was somehow involved in which featured zombies, an exit strategy was in order. There was talk of a hot tub, a small exchange of money and free food. Did someone say free food? The Scooby Doo meets Garfield in me clicked “LIKE” on the internal comment thread going on in my brain.
I googled the producers and people associated with the show to make sure they weren’t an off-spin of the Manson cult, and found no sufficient evidence proving or disproving any such link. ‘Good enough’, my inner warrior princess assured my outer twisted minstrel. “Let’s all go to New Jersey”, the various voices in my Gemini head announced. Well, one was singing.
At Penn Station, I met just the sweetest couple you have ever laid eyes on, who would be my escorts and advisors on this zombie adventure. We had a great chat about the biz, shared raisins or some such snack, laughed and also just cut right through the crap. In short, a great ride was had by all.
We were greeted by our driver, a very friendly fellow who led us to our coach, a Mini Cooper, and chauffered us to the studio, simultaneously taking us on a brief and exhilarating tour of Princeton, NJ. When we pulled up in front of the studio, the place looked haunted. It was abandoned looking, with spotty patches of grass and no movement near or around it. It was the perfect place to film a TV show about zombies. It crossed my mind that this was not a TV show at all, but a real event involving real zombies.
Inside, however, the place was brimming with life, people of all sorts in various stages of the process of transitioning to becoming undead. Folks of all shapes and sizes patted their skin with green make up, darkened their eyes and tore their clothing. I busied myself with a platter of sandwiches and a bowl of crunchy grapes, making small talk with anyone who happened past the fruit tray. The cast was energetic and chatty, and the room brimmed with the excitement that I always experience when performing on any zombie themed event.
Lawrence, the man with the vision, suggested I play my song, “Lullaby” while a young child who’s very cool mother had allowed her to get involved in this ordeal pretended to sleep at my feet. I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather have done at that moment. This is a video of the outcome.
I will be going back, and next time, I will be zombie-fied.
P.S. I have a show this Sunday 3/20 in NYC at 1 W. 3rd St. called Love In Strange Places. It is a soon to be book, (I’m writing it now) and is based on how I met my fiance on Craigslist, a story which was recently featured in the NY Times.