Whenever we watch the Tony awards, we marvel that they're still on network television. This makes us happy, though we invariably get the feeling that Tony's days on CBS are numbered, and that its banishment to cable is imminent. We always picture some lonely teenager watching the show in some place like Kansas or Oklahoma (though it could be the dark recesses of Long Island as well), so disliked by his or her peers, so misunderstood by his or her own family, that he or she spends most of the time holed up in a basement bunker pursuing shameful, secret desires—learning the lyrics to Broadway musicals, reading Proust, watching old John Waters movies, or dreaming of donning something truly insane, something that could never be found at the local mall, and wearing it to... More >>>