Most all New York City psychotherapists go on vacation during the month of August – and the city's temperament instantly changes. Tourists who come to the city from the last week of July through the first week of August often remark that halfway through their stay the place suddenly gets a little crazier – or at least more neurotic:

The ladies who lunch on Park Avenue eat even less and drink even more. The cigar-chomping titans of Wall Street start chomping harder. The cab drivers from Tajikistan start driving erratically. The beggars in the chorus of Les Miz get even needier. And the songwriters on Tin Pan Alley start writing lyrics so profane, they'd make a young Kitty Carlisle turn beet red.

Two and a half years ago I began seeing Dr. Saguaro (the code name I've given my shrink). My closest friends were palpably relieved when I told them: I would finally stop dumping my problems on them, they thought.

Fat chance. All this meant was that I would tell them in excruciating detail about my sessions with Dr. Saguaro.

"What do you think it means that Dr. Saguaro asked me about the first time I [blanked] in the [blank]?" I'd ask my three or four closest friends. Therapy for my therapy.

Considering that my bills from Dr. Saguaro approach the cost of reconstruction in Iraq, it seemed important to make the most of the sessions and rehash them with the people who know me most. Perhaps they would ask questions – or have feedback – that I could bring into my next 45-minute session. (That's 45, Dr. Saguaro, not 43!)

Probably yes. But it's worth thinking over.

On Friday I went to the revival of the great American musical Gypsy, starring Patti Lupone, at New York's City Center Theater. As every critic (with the mysterious exception of the New York Times' Ben Brantley) will attest, it is astonishing. When Patti Lupone strides on to stage, she's greeted like a Liberator come to unshackle audiences from the tyranny of crappy musicals. (I realize that many readers took exception to my rave for Knocked Up. But please, believe me this time.)

Gypsy is based on the true story of "Mama Rose" Hovick, the prototype of the pushy stage mother - a thrice-married bulldozer of a woman who carts her two daughters, June and Louise, all over the dying vaudeville circuit during the 1920s and 30s, in the hopes of making June a star. (In this production June is portrayed brilliantly and eerily as a Jon-Benet Ramsay type.) Significantly Rose's own mother had abandoned her as a child. This may help explain why Rose pushes and smothers June ... until June runs away, leaving the blander Louise the object of her mother's monomania. Louise, second fiddle up till, takes whatever attention she can get from her mother; that's how hungry she is for anything approaching affection.

In the musical Rose is courted by the act's kindly, if weak, manager Herbie. All he wants is to marry Rose and make her happy. But Rose is obsessed; she must make a star out of one of her daughters. Even after June runs off, Rose pushes Herbie (her only shot at domestic stability) away, and eventually the otherwise talentless Louise becomes a stripper, the real-life Gypsy Rose Lee - horrifically enough, with the mother's acquiescence!

That's how much I love Jerry Mathers, aka The Beaver, the former child star and American icon. He's now starring on Broadway as Wilbur Turnblad, Tracey Turnblad's heart-of-gold dad in the musical Hairspray. Mathers is fantastic in the show.

I saw the show on Wednesday, which turned out to be a daylong parade of television icons. It started at the matinee of Hairspray. I'd brought the wonderful group of students I mentor from Bayside HS in Queens. (I generally resist the term mentor. I'm many things, including "canny" and "whimsical." But "mentor" is a term reserved for the "wise," something I only aspire to right now.)

Anyway, at intermission I stepped outside for some fresh air with the student's teacher, Aida. Aida nudged me and said, "Look! It's the guy from Three's Company." Indeed it was actor Richard Kline, who brilliantly played Jack, Chrissy and Janet's sleazy upstairs neighbor, Larry. I loved that show and thought he was hilarious.

When I approached him, though, he wasn't terribly chatty. This is not a criticism. The truth is that I could have been more deft.

"Excuse me," I said, "but weren't you on Three's Company?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"You're very funny," I said nervously.

He nodded again, thanked me, and that was it. I felt a bit cloddish not using his name but I couldn't remember it. So he very well may have been annoyed at being addressed by his Three's Company affiliation. Perhaps the show has loomed too large, prevented him from being recognized for other projects. (This is just speculation.)

So a terrifically talented and big-hearted impresario named Jamie McGonnigal has put together a concert of Broadway stars singing 80s songs - all to benefit a team of U.S. youth ambassadors who are going to Africa to build schools and dormitories in AIDS-affected areas. I'm trading on my VH1 "I Love the 80s" bona fides to host this event. (Just for the record, I did not love everything about the 80s. Two things I hated: "Archie Bunker's Place" and Apartheid.)

More information is below.

Jamie McGonnigal and Joe's Pub present Broadway Loves the 80's, a concert featuring your favorite Broadway stars singing their favorite hits of the awesomest decade ever!

I can't lie. My life is exciting. If it's not Oscar winner Marlee Matlin writing into my blog, then it's former President Bill Clinton coming to see The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee last night. After the show he came backstage to the "green room" (essentially the actors' rec room) and greeted us all.


The shirt he was wearing was wonderful - a twill, with an almost satin sheen. And I was reminded how I really need another lightweight suit for summer. Chelsea and her boyfriend were there - all to celebrate Dorothy Rodham's (Hillary's mom) 88th birthday. Hillary did not come.

Here's the AP story that was just filed:

NEW YORK -- A day after a 13-year-old boy won the Scripps National Spelling Bee, former President Bill Clinton attended a bee of a decidedly different sort _ only to be poked fun at before a crowd of hundreds.

With the former commander in chief in the audience with his daughter and mother-in-law, the cast of Broadway's "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" used the show's interactive format to tease their presidential guest.

With an audience volunteer on stage being asked to spell the word "vermeil," cast member and comedian Mo Rocca offered a pointed sample sentence: "Had he known that his official duties would include selecting a china pattern to match the vermeil tableware, Billy never would have supported his wife's candidacy."

With the lights still up on the spectators, the audience seemed to wait to see President Clinton's reaction before truly allowing themselves to laugh, he said.

"Especially in a theater where the audience is so much a part of the show, there were two focal points: the actors and the Clintons," Rocca said, adding that the family attended the hit musical to celebrate Dorothy Rodham's 88th birthday.

The comedy breaks the fourth wall to include audience members in a school spelling bee populated by odd characters. Rocca, a former cast member on "The Daily Show," plays the vice principal who tests the contestants using humorous words and definitions.

When he's not on stage, Rocca also appears as a correspondent for "The Tonight Show with Jay Leno" and as a commentator for CBS' "Sunday Morning with Charles Osgood."

***
More backstage after the show:

There was friendly banter with the whole cast in the green room. Jennifer Simard - our heroic leading lady (performing tonight with bronchitis!) - made a point of greeting Chelsea first. It must be hell being a First Daughter - everyone trampling you to touch or talk to your father. Sara Inbar - who plays Schwartzy, the young activist with two gay dads - asked the former president what he thought of No Child Left Behind. Surprise: he's not a fan. Jared Gertner - who plays Barfee, the spelling whiz with a "magic foot" - told Clinton that his own secret to looking so young was Botox. (Jared is 25.)

Then something happened that startled us all: Stephanie (last name withheld), a terrific woman who does audio for the show, stepped forward and thanked Clinton: "I was one of the final 58 people you pardoned," she said. Here she is thanking him...



Stephanie's pardon allowed her to vote once again. President Clinton told her that he signed legislation (I think I have this right) 30 years ago for the state of Arkansas that permitted most ex-cons to vote again. He said that Jeb Bush, whom he made a point of praising, had introduced similar legislation for Florida - and had been scorned by Republicans afraid that most ex-cons would vote Democrat.

I made a quip about supporting the right of ex-cons to vote - with an exception made for Paris Hilton. Clinton didn't laugh. (I was 1-for-2 with him, I guess. He did laugh heartily at the vermeil joke.)

As I was leaving the theater, there were a few people waiting around, probably hoping for a glimpse of the former president. Plus there was Judith Bernstein. Judith is great woman - and, as readers of this blog know, she was our very first Cat Lady Of The Month (CLOM)!

All in all, a very eventful evening.

Last week I was felled by a nasty cold. As a result, Mo Rocca 180's normal video rollout (new videos on Monday, Wednesday, Friday) has been suspended for a week. A new video will appear on this blog next Wednesday. My apologies.

Not only was video production halted. I also had to miss two performances of my Broadway show, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. Not to fear, I'm back on the boards thanks to the goodwill and expertise of my fellow actors.

There's no better place to be sick than on Broadway. That's because musical theater actors have no end of remedies.