Don — Page 68

Just One Big Sigh

July 5, 2018 at 8:41 am by Claudia

With last night’s performance, the fact that the show has closed will – has – hit the cast. Even though it closed on Sunday, they were on a train for DC the next morning and, for the next three days everything was about the performance. And the horrendous heat. Don said: “It’s all about the heat.” They are exhausted. Today, they’ll ride back to NYC and there will be no performance tonight. Or tomorrow night.

They are extraordinarily close.

I will drive into the city in our old CR-V on Saturday morning. I’ll help Don pack and clean the apartment, we’ll spend some time wandering around and on Sunday? We move Don back home.

With the humidity and high temperatures here, I’ve had to have the A/C on 24 hours a day. I haven’t been able to do anything outside, except water, water, water. It’s been brutal.

I’m over everything.

But this happened the other day. I spotted a monarch butterfly which landed on a black raspberry leaf. She stayed there a long time. It’s the first monarch I’ve seen and I’m convinced she had just emerged and was drying her wings. I was able to get very close to her, which is usually impossible.

The monarch stayed there for about ten minutes. Later, I spotted her flying around the big garden bed, even doing a little circling, playful dance with this Great Spangled Fritillary:

The advantage of having a lot of milkweed: you get to see the monarchs when they first emerge. Maybe I’ll actually see one as it emerges someday.

I took the day Tuesday to clean out our bedroom closet. It’s a small closet, shared by both of us. It’s tucked into the eaves, so it’s deep but not wide. It had become a depressing black hole. Except for cleaning the bathroom (which I also did yesterday) it’s my least favorite thing to do around here. I now have three bags of clothing to donate to the Salvation Army, two bags of crap to go to the dump, and countless cardboard boxes to recycle. Now Mr. Hawaiian Shirt with the Snazzy Shoes will have some room for his new clothing.

We won’t talk about the fact that very little of the clothing I had in the closet fits me anymore. That’s too depressing.

Also, I wrote about this last week on IG, but if you missed it, I was standing by my car with my iPhone in hand (I’d been taking pictures) when, for some reason, I glanced back over my shoulder and saw a full grown black bear walking across the grass on the back forty. I gasped. Couldn’t believe my eyes. For the three seconds or so it took the bear to walk across the grass and then into our woods, I was frozen. Completely forgot I had a phone which could take a picture in my hand.

Whoa Nellie. He or she was beautiful, by the way.

As Don said, “I won’t be taking out the trash at night anymore.”

Happy Thursday.

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.

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.

Just One Big Sigh

Twenty-Four

Closing

Lambs Like to Party

A Note

Archives