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You are here: Home / Archives for Claudia

Twenty-Four

July 4, 2018 at 8:34 am by Claudia

I thought you might enjoy seeing this photo of the day I met my husband. It was July 4, 1994 – as you can see on the date stamp – and we were at a party in Ocean Beach thrown our friend Kathy. That, my friends, is a younger version of our new neighbor and old friend, Rick, on the right.

Rick and I had been working at our new jobs for less than a year. We drove out to Kathy’s house (which was tiny and magical and a block from the beach) together. The party was full of fellow employees of the Old Globe and also actors and designers who were working on shows that summer. Don was in town to play Malvolio in Twelfth Night.

A bit of back story: A year earlier, I had flown out to San Diego to interview for a faculty position at The Old Globe/University of San Diego. It was an intense 2 days filled with interviews at the University and at the Globe. I was exhausted. Kathy, who was a wonderful actress that I’d met when she came to teach a class at Boston University, took me under her wing. She was that way, our Kathy. (Sadly, she passed away a few months ago.) She was performing in Morning’s at Seven  at the Globe and got me a ticket for the matinee, which I watched and enjoyed. There was a guy in the cast who played a character named Homer and I thought he was very good. I remember looking at his headshot in the program and thinking that he looked interesting. His name was Don Sparks. Fast forward to a year later and at Company Call – when all the visiting artists gather and are introduced – there he was again, sitting just across the aisle from me. He was called up to the stage that day by Jack O’Brien and awarded the honor of Associate Artist. His acceptance speech was funny and self-deprecating.

So, there he was at Kathy’s party. I wasn’t working on his show, I was coaching an Irish play, and I was hanging out with those actors and with Rick. Every time I walked into the living room, this guy smiled at me. Every time. He made a point of leaning forward to catch my eye. I am usually shy about these things, but I finally bit the bullet and went over to him and introduced myself. We sat down on that sofa you see there and we chatted with each other. Rick eventually joined us.

And so began a conversation that has never stopped.

Look at our body language! We were already smitten.

We talked about – and I’m not kidding – how we couldn’t believe we were 43 and 41, respectively, with comments like, “How did we get so old???”

We were children.

Our friend, Jonathan McMurtry, took this picture and years later, slipped it into my mail slot at the Globe. What a treasure it is; the exact moment when we met.

Check out my red socks! Don still has that shirt and usually wears it on this day, but he’s in Washington, DC and it’s here somewhere. I still have that sweatshirt and wear it often.

It goes without saying that I’d love to be that thin again, but that’s not going to happen. Sigh.

On this exact date, four years later, Don proposed to me. And we got married three months later, in October.

Happy 24th, my love.

 

Filed Under: anniversary, Don 42 Comments

Closing

July 3, 2018 at 8:49 am by Claudia

Right now: Nothing but sadness.

It’s been an emotional roller coaster and continues to be. Yesterday, I cried off and on all day long. The premature ending to something so dear necessitates a period of mourning. I’m in mourning. Don is in mourning. The cast, the crew, the producers, stage management, director, choreographer and Jimmy are in mourning.

I’ve never encountered a performance like the one on Sunday. The theater was packed with fans. Many had come back for a second, third or fourth time. Everyone wanted to see it one last time. Thunderous applause and cheers as the lights went down. Applause for Paul’s (the lead) first entrance. Singing along with every song. Spontaneous hand clapping to the beat of Jimmy’s music. Cheers. Tears. A cameo by Jimmy in the second act (that was a first) and stomping, cheers, singing and Jimmy at the curtain call. He sang Margaritaville, the cast and audience sang with him, and then he sang a song that he dedicated to the cast. Everyone was crying – onstage and off.

I have a story about three women who were sitting next to me but I don’t have the energy to share it again. I shared it on Instagram yesterday and if you’re interested, go to my feed, or scroll down to the Instagram feed on my sidebar and click on the picture of three women. It’s a good story, to put it mildly. It also will give you an indication of my emotional state during Don’s final performance.

The cast can’t believe they will no longer be working together. Alison, the lead actress, wrote a song for everyone that is heartbreakingly beautiful.

I hate that this is ending.

The enormity of it hasn’t hit Don yet because everyone had to travel down to DC yesterday, where it is even hotter than it is here and they are exhausted and are rehearsing and dancing and singing. It’s rather surreal because the show closed, yet they have one final gig together. Reality won’t begin to hit him until he comes back to the city and we pack up everything. He will miss his life there and that apartment. This will be an enormous transition for him.

He is so loved by the company. We were talking to Jimmy and Frank Marshall, one of the producers (look up his name and see just what he has produced in Hollywood – a true legend) at the party. I was on the receiving end of several hugs from Jimmy, I even got to kiss him on the cheek – he’s a wonderful person. Anyway, he loves Don and loves what he does in the show, but he also thanked him for being such a great influence and inspiration to the cast. One of the producers said he was a consummate professional. He is. And the director quietly told Don that he was his hero.

My heart was overflowing. So why does it have to end? This show is pure joy.

I’m sorting through my emotions and I realize that this has been such a hope for Don and me. A hope for a long run, for a beautiful adventure that started over a year ago in LaJolla to continue. For my husband to enjoy a long stretch in the city performing his favorite role ever. And now it’s gone.

I know you understand. I want to protect my husband. I don’t want to see him disappointed or sad or heartbroken. And he is all three. I’d do anything to keep that from him. I’d do anything to keep that damn show running if it was at all in my power. But it isn’t.

We had a lot of dreams connected to a long run of ETM. They’ve had to be shelved.

As I read tribute after tribute by cast members on Instagram Sunday, as I listened to them speak from their hearts at the party after the performance, I realized just how heartbroken everyone is. To a person. No one wanted it to end. Everyone feels like the rug has been pulled out from under them.

I don’t know what else to say. I’m going to make a copy of this picture today and frame it for Don. He is my  hero, too. In every way. I’m enormously proud of him – not just of his acting chops, which are considerable – but of his integrity, compassion, humor, and love for his fellow man.

More later.

It’s my dear sister’s birthday today. Wish her a happy one.

A year ago today, I was flying out to LaJolla to see ETM for the first time. Sigh.

Happy Tuesday.

Filed Under: Don, Escape to Margaritaville, life 62 Comments

Saturday

June 30, 2018 at 9:02 am by Claudia

A view from just inside the front door since I haven’t shown you many house pictures lately. That always happens when it’s garden time. I tend to neglect the inside of the cottage because my focus is on the outside.

Speaking of the outside, I weed whacked early yesterday morning, did some more chores and then, after looking at the weather forecast for the next week (temps in the high nineties through Friday) decided I should mow the front lawn.

Completely exhausting in the heat and humidity, but at least the front of the property will look good this week. I watered everything about 3 times and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about tomorrow when I’m in the city and the temperature reaches 100 degrees. Instead of going in today, I’m going in early tomorrow morning, so I can water everything before I go. I’ll move plants on the porch to a shadier place (if there is one) and hope for the best. I’ll either come back tomorrow night or early Monday morning as Don and his cast mates take the train to Washington DC that morning.

Escape to Margaritaville story: about a week or so ago, a patron arranged a surprise. During the curtain call, he came up onstage and one of the cast members called his girlfriend up (she was completely surprised) and the entire theater got to witness his marriage proposal and her acceptance. Romantic.

I’m sort of numb now, just keeping it together until I watch tomorrow’s closing performance. I know I’ll be crying. It will be sad and beautiful and a bit of a relief. It’s been looming over the cast for a month now and that’s a hard thing to deal with, day after day. One of Don’s fellow cast members said it was like ‘being in hospice.’

It’s also surreal that the show closes and the cast immediately travels to Washington DC for A Capital Fourth. They are performing a medley of songs from the show with new choreography. I don’t think Don has a solo but he’ll be there, my dancing boy.

This is the milkweed growing in front of the porch. There are at least 12 different plants. I’m hoping I can see a monarch butterfly caterpillar. I spotted one last year. I must be diligent and check the stalks every day.

Okay. Have to go. I will probably take tomorrow and Monday off as they will be travel days. And full of emotion. I’ll see you on Tuesday.

Happy Saturday.

Filed Under: Don, Escape to Margaritaville, flowers 30 Comments

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Welcome!

Welcome!

I live in a little cottage in the country with my husband. It's a sweet place, sheltered by old trees and surrounded by gardens. The inside is full of the things we love. I love to write, I love my camera, I love creating, I love gardening. My decorating style is eclectic; full of vintage and a bit of whimsy.

I've worked in the theater for more years than I can count. I'm currently a voice, speech, dialect and text coach freelancing on Broadway, off Broadway, and in regional theater.

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