Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Mockingbird Hill Cottage

This Will Be Brief

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Honestly, I am too sick to my stomach today to write much. And no, I don’t have the flu.

I happened to be in the apartment as yesterday’s press conference was unfolding. As I heard the words coming out of that man’s mouth, my heart was in my mouth and my stomach churned.

But I wasn’t surprised. This is who he is. This is who he has always been. If you’re surprised, I presume it’s because yesterday was so blatant, so in-your-face, so unapologetic. Because we’ve always known this about him.

He and his father owned apartment complexes and discriminated against black applicants. They settled out of court – which means they were guilty. He spewed birther accusations for over five years. He believes he has superior genes. His father took part in a Klan march/rally. And he has at least three staff members who are White Nationalists.

This is who he is.

But it’s not who we are.

As for the ‘I don’t like Hillary’ or ‘the lesser of two evils’ nonsense, there was never  any comparison. Never.

I’m praying that this is resolved immediately. That we are somehow able to rebuild a democracy that has been ripped and shredded and desecrated during the past seven months, that we are able to heal and emerge stronger than ever.

But it won’t be easy.

That’s all I can give you today.

 

 

The Earrings. Again.

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Do you remember this pair of earrings?

You might remember, then, when I lost one of them last December while doing something in the kitchen and Don and I tore the house apart trying to find it and this went on and on as I completely moved everything in the kitchen the next day, cleaning as I went, until a reader said I should check the silverware drawer (which I was sure wouldn’t work) and then I opened the drawer the next day and there was the earring nestled under the forks? You can read about it here.

I’ve had these earrings for a long time.  It must be twenty years now – I suspect even longer than that. They’re my favorites as they are long and dangly but simple in design.

At the end of Saturday’s rehearsal, I walked back to the apartment and spent the evening answering comments, reading, watching tv, talking to Don on the phone – the usual. Then I prepared to take a bath, which is sort of a nightly thing for me when I’m in Hartford. After I pulled my t-shirt over my head, I reached for my earrings.

There was only one. I immediately did what you would do. I pulled up the cushions on the sofa, I looked under the sofa, the coffee table. I looked in the kitchen. I looked at the t-shirt, shaking it in case the earring was caught on it. I looked in the laundry basket. I looked in the bathroom. Nowhere to be found. Just to be sure, I did the whole thing all over again before I got in bed.

Calm down, I told myself. Maybe the Universe is telling you it’s time to let them go.

But I love  them, I stubbornly said.

But, perhaps due to a lavender scented bubble bath, I remained calm. The next morning, I checked the elevator and the lobby, where there are tables that sometimes hold items that have been found in the building. Nothing.

I decided I would retrace my exact route home Saturday night when I walked to the theater on Sunday morning. Which I did. Imagine me walking slowly, staring at the cement, all the way to the theater. Of course, I found nothing, and I was thinking that even if it had been there, somebody would have picked it up.

I walked into the lobby of the building where the rehearsal rooms are. Nothing. The elevator? Nothing. The long walk down the hallway to the rehearsal space? Nothing. Thinking I’d check the green room and the bathroom after I set my bag down in the rehearsal room, I turned to walk through the doorway.

In the corner between the wall and the doorway, just inside the room – there it was.

Perfectly protected from someone stepping on it, it was tucked into that corner and the silver flashed in the light and I shouted out, “There’s my earring!” thereby shocking the stage management team and Darko, who were already in the room. I guess it decided to spend the night in the rehearsal space.

Amazing. That’s twice now. Since then, I’ve been using those plastic things that slide up the shepherd’s hook on the earring but I need smaller, snugger backs (is that the word?) The ones I’m using work perfectly with another pair I brought along, but not so well on this one.

The Universe is clearly telling me to get some backs and use them.

In the meantime, I check my ears about a thousand times a day.

My nephew went home from the hospital yesterday evening. We are very happy to know that the healing process can continue at home.

Happy Tuesday.

Musing On Memories and Friends and Loss On This Monday Morning

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I managed a quick visit to the park last night after rehearsal. I was hoping to see my old friends, the ducks.

I did. That made me smile.

I lost a friend yesterday. We hadn’t been in active contact for many years, but she was a part of my life in Boston, at Boston University, and she was much too young. In the years that I lived in that old and beautiful apartment building in Cambridge, she was also a tenant, along with our friend and colleague, Judith, who managed to get both Annette and I rent-controlled apartments in that building. It was a lot of fun with all three of us residing there.

Annette was a force of nature; adventurous, fun, full of life, kind and very talented. She came to BU to train as a Voice and Speech teacher, so those of us on the Voice faculty mentored her. She became a good friend. Annette, Judith, Rick and I spent a lot of time together. We were all very close.

The morning I found out my brother died, as I sat there in my kitchen crying, I called Annette and she came running down the stairs and sat with me, holding my hand, doing her best to comfort me as I came to terms with what I had had just heard my sister tell me. I will never forget that. I will never forget her kindness and compassion that day. I needed that desperately.

She left us to take a faculty position at the University of Michigan in the Musical Theater Program. (She also had a beautiful singing voice.) She was still a member of the faculty on the day she died.

She found out she was ill very, very recently – within the last week or two – and she went very quickly. She was surrounded by her siblings. I looked at her FB page yesterday and the tributes from her students were stunning in their love for her and their appreciation for their time with her. Bless you, Annette. You were loved. You are  loved. Rest in Peace.

My nephew is slowly getting better. The doctor confirmed the original diagnosis, a condition with a long name that is an infection of the intestines. It’s viral, so antibiotics will do nothing. Just time. He managed to keep down some fluids and some jello later in the day yesterday, which is a good sign. He’s still in the hospital but we’re hoping he goes home today or tomorrow. Meredith sounded better yesterday. Since he is due to leave for college soon, we’re hoping that his recovery is swift.

I also neglected to write when my favorite singer ever passed away last week. Barbara Cook was extraordinary. She was the best singer I have ever heard and I was blessed to hear her in concert three times and to meet her backstage when my colleagues Bob and Rick and I went to see her in Boston. Her autobiography, published last year, was unflinchingly honest and frank. She was the original Marian the Librarian in The Music Man. She was the lead in She Loves Me. She was the original Cunegonde in Bernstein’s Candide where she sang the coloratura Glitter and Be Gay  and brought the house down. And after years of alcoholism, she turned her life around and became a cabaret singer who won the hearts of millions. She did more with the lyrics of a song than almost anyone. Her high soprano deepened with the years and a depth of life experience and pain and joy infused every song she sang. If you’ve never heard her, do yourself a favor. Listen. I can’t name a favorite because there are so many, but her recording of This Nearly Was Mine  from South Pacific  is heartbreakingly beautiful in its expression of love and longing and loss. Rest in Peace, Barbara.

We’re almost through with our table work – one more session early in the day tomorrow – and then Darko will start staging and I will start one-on-one coaching with the actors. I have many notes that I took during the table work and I’m anxious to tackle them.

Today is my day off, so a trip to Whole Foods is on the docket, as well as a side trip to Target. And then, maybe, some reading on a bench in the park.

Happy Monday.

Lambs Like to Party

Lambs Like to Party

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