thestagingarea.com

And that.

Since it’s been so damned long since I last wrote, as Nath constantly reminds me, some random thoughts that have been running through my mind. In no particular order, with no particular relevance, rhyme or reason.

• Follies. Sondheim’s Follies. One of my favorite Sondheim scores. J & I went to see it at Genesius Theatre in Reading, PA. This is the theatre that’s responsible for me existence, that kept me alive during my high school years; dramatic but true, and I’m so glad I’ve reunited with them.

  It was a great evening. A number of folks who I worked with, oh, 30ish years ago, were in the cast, some reviving their old roles (Genesius did the show in 1977; found these slides in my collection. Yeah, slides, kinda like visual 8 tracks) and some doing the show for the first time. Joining the “old hands” were a good number of new Genesians who were equally fun to watch. Quibbles with the production, of course, it’s me, the king of curmudgeons, but still, wonderful to see.

• Hillary go home. And take Bill with you. With Hil’s latest inexplicable and twisted pronouncement, it’s time to go, ok? Never has a brilliant dynasty choked on its own hubris so monumentally.
• Hospitials are not fun. Yes, a couple of weeks ago, I spent some time in the hosp, getting poked, prodded and scanned. I had been suffering from dizziness for a bit (some would say my whole life) along with some other disturbing symptoms, not the least: blood pressure was 80/60, not good. So my doc had me admitted - pretty sure it was some sort of virus but not wanting to take any chances - and there I was. The concern was that it was something with my heart or lungs. One does get expedited treatment if there is even the suggestion of heart problems.

  So scanned I was (I seem to have momentarily channelled Yoda), duly pricked, hooked up to machines, drained of blood, and what was discovered? I have a great heart, great lungs and seemingly, no lurking clots. In other words, no answer to what was causing the original symptoms, but the fear of my heart exploding is no longer hanging over my head. So, I guess, in the end, it is a virus, still a bit with me, as I’m still having occasional dizzy spells, but they are abating with each passing day.

• Camping. J & I have already been once this season. Several weeks ago. Ricketts Glen State Park in PA. A great, early season, getaway. Not too many people there, by the last night, we were the only ones in the park which was eerie, but cool. At some point, I’ll post the pix of our waterfall hike.
• I lost a dear part of my extended family. She had suffered from incredibly debilitating MS for years. It’s still hard to believe that she is gone, but I’m sure she is out there, smiling slyly (as she did), flying high; finally free of the constraints of a horrible disease. Keep her and her partner of many years in your thoughts.
• We’ve decided to add a closet in the bedroom. We need to have a 96″ door milled. We’ll, we don’t have to, but it will then match the hall closets, so really, we have to. Now we just have to find someone to do it.
• Ok, I want a Wii Fit, I love my Wii and the Fit looks like a fun addition.

Damn, the Sunday morning talking heads are on and I’m being distracted. More later, after the heads and a trip to the grocery store. Whoo Hoo! Do we know how to do holiday weekend, or what?! LOL

k.

Tags: Ephemera, Family, Friends, General, Jamie, Life, Renovations, Theatre by Kirk
No Comments »

That’s what I’ve been working on.

This weekend, if anyone is in or around Reading, PA, I’ll be in a benefit for the theatre that is responsible, in a large part, for who I am, and really, my very existance.

Genesius Theatre. It’s good to be home.

Click on the link above for info about my beloved theatre.

The show is Fri. 2/29 & Sat. 3/1 at 8PM. Sun. 3/2 at 3PM.

Click here, for tix, should you wish to come on down. It would be lovely to see you.

Back to learning the lyrics.
k.

Tags: Ephemera, Family, Life, Music, Theatre by Kirk
1 Comment »

To Jamie and I.

8 years. Who would have thought it possible; I certainly never thought it would happen.

Funny what happens in your life when you stop looking for something to happen.

Tonight, dinner at Rene Pujol. It will be wonderful. And then, who knows.

Revisit the start of it all on Jamie’s site.

Happy day! I love my husband.

There are those in the gay community who poo-poo the whole idea, saying that we should not mirror the straight community. I say, “Fuck ‘em.” I’ve never been too keen on the whole “community identification superceding my own humanity” thing. And I’d write more on that, but I’m at work and need to get back to it. So I’ll just say again, as the late, great Bob B. did, “That’s what makes the phone book.”

And now, back to work,
k.

Tags: Ephemera, Family, Jamie, Life, Politics by Kirk
2 Comments »

Happy New Year!

I’ve previously mentioned the Christmas Eve bayberry mojo.

And now, here is the New Year’s Eve mojo tradition. A quick internet check shows nothing about my family’s traditional NY Eve mojo. My guess is that it is a mix of PA Dutch and Scottish tradition, or just something that got started long ago by no specific ethnicity and just got handed down until its precise origins were lost.

At any rate, my family’s tradition: in a small bag - I use a sandwich bag because that’s what my parents used, probably something nicer like a cloth bag would be looked on kindly by the gods, or maybe the humble nature of the sandwich bag is some kind of positive statement in and of itself - one per each member of the household - no “one bag is good enough for all” stuff here, everyone must have their own - place:

• A penny or some humble coin if your monetary system has no penny. “So that you may always have enough money.”
• A piece of coal. “So that your home may be always warm.”
• A bit of flour wrapped in paper. “So you may always have food.”

Why is the flour wrapped in paper? So it doesn’t get all messy in the bag, silly. My family’s traditional flour wrap has been a piece of paper towel, again, not particularly pretty, but humble and certainly serviceable.

Once these items are gathered in the bag, it is hung on the front door of your house (or apartment) to welcome in the New Year’s s(S)pirit. This is to be done on New Year’s Eve and must hang there until the morning of New Year’s Day.

And, like the bayberry candle that burns though Christmas Eve into Christmas Day, I understand that this is superstition. But neither the candle nor the NYE bag has let me down thus far and so, I’ll repeat, I’m not messin’ with the mojo.

And they pile on, I have acquiesced, adopted and even grown used to, Jamie’s family’s, “the Christmas tree must be taken down before New Year’s Day”, and he’s happy to have our ratty New Year’s bags hanging on the doorknob for the neighbors to wonder about.

I guess life is so dramatically random that even in this “advanced” modern age, sometimes it feels good and necessary to fall back on a little tradition, a little “magic”.

Have a safe and happy New Year!
k.

Tags: Ephemera, Family, Jamie, Life, Spirituality by Kirk
3 Comments »

Zim has some very valid points in his comment to my last post and I think they warrant a response post. First, go read his comments if you haven’t done so already.

The Christmas Spirit; I’ve found as I get older, that so many things conspire against it. In no particular order:

• Rampant commercialization of the season. This commercialization has so removed the “magic” of the season, that youthful innocence that lets us dream and believe.
• As tie-in to the above: The expansion of the season. When I was young, there was no Christmas anything until Santa arrived Thanksgiving Day on the Macy’s float. Nothing. Thanksgiving Day was the kick-off to the Christmas season. Now you start seeing Christmas things in stores or advertising as early as August. It’s this time-frame dilution that helps make it a far less anticipated, special event.
• The removal of Christ from Christmas. Regardless of your particular spiritual belief, this point applies: simply substitute whichever symbol of charity, sacrifice and unconditional love into the above sentence. Christmas is, in the end a construct; historically Christ was not born on Christmas. Christian holidays, all religiously based holidays, are sociopolitical constructs of the current ruling party/religion. The birth of Christ is celebrated on this particular day because it was easier to usurp an already existing celebration: you can’t cancel the Solstice festival, the Saturnalia, etc., but you can change it to your purpose. But in the end, each permutation is a celebration of life and this basic understanding of the season has been lost.
• Loss of contact with fellow human beings. As the world becomes seemingly more and more connected, it actually seems we are all moving apart. Phones keep us from talking face to face. Cars keep us from walking, where we might chance to meet. Computers allow us to sit in our homes, safe in our cocoons, to virtually connect, but is that a real connection? Without truly being among your fellow human beings, how is it possible to be human?

There is nothing wrong with enjoying the material aspects of the season; giving is a demonstration of an aspect of the spiritual model. Giving, that is, without any expectation of return, giving to show your love, your appreciation of another human being.

As I’ve written in a previous post, I do think it is important to do some regular, unconditional giving. It can be monetary, but it doesn’t need to be, it can be a donation of time, donation of goods, etc., simply some acknowledgment that there are those less fortunate, more needy, than you. And here, I’m not saying, “Be a martyr to humankind,” but rather recognize that we all depend on each other.

In that vein, I urge more “green-ness” in everyone’s life. We continue to dismantle the delicate symbiosis with our Earth. This practice of “green-ness” is another face of giving and respect. We need to protect and care for the planet on which we live. The Earth will certainly survive despite our shenanigans, but she may, no, will refuse to support our existence if we continue to divorce responsibility for our action from their consequences.

In the end, if we want to keep the “magic” of the season alive, we need to embrace our loved ones, and the world, in our hearts, care for and respect those around us and also the world in which we live. And always remember, as our ancestors found as those fearful days, ever shortening, ever dying, turned, became slowly longer, ever less inexplicably dark, we can go forward from darkness to light, from fear to joy. But we will always be more able if we go hand in hand, our hearts warm and our minds open.

Thanks to you, Zim for prompting this bit of philosophizin’.

Nite,
k.

Tags: Life, Politics, Spirituality by Kirk
1 Comment »

You see George, you really did have a wonderful life.

I think often, we forget how really wonderful life is, I know I do from time to time. I get caught up in the minutiae of the daily grind and forget what is truly important, truly wonderful: the magic of being alive. It really is a gift. To throw out another appropriate movie quote, Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death.

Drink in life. Eat up every last morsel. Savour every last moment. Life is too glorious not to.

So catching up. Thanksgiving was odd, but lovely. Jamie, as I mentioned in the last post was sick. He got up long enough to enjoy our dinner, or enjoy it as much as someone without a sense of smell due to clogged sinuses is able.

That weekend, our friends John and Karen came in from London for a week’s visit. We kicked it off by going to Peter Luger’s Steakhouse, a fav of ours. Luckily, Jamie’s ick had subsided enough for him to enjoy the evening and taste the food.

Then later that week, on Thursday, J & I went to the 75th Anniversary Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular. And it was. Spectacular.

We go every year. We love it. We love the over-the-top wackiness of it. We love the live camels on stage and the hokey holiday–ness of it all. But this year, being the 75th Anniversary, it was even better than usual. It was all about the Rockettes, who are indeed, always “featured”, but this year they were truly the stars of the show. They even got their own holiday souvenir martini glass

filled with, of course, the Rockettini, which was basically a slushie with really high proof rum poured over it.

All during that week after Thanksgiving, along with show-going and friend-greeting, we were getting ready for our first (annual) holiday party. Lots of food, liquor and mixers bought. Some food prepped here. And that Saturday, 12/1, from 5 ’til, well, I’m told that it went on until about 1:30AM, a grand time was had by all.

We spread it out over such a long period as:

1. We have friends with many different work schedules or kids or other engagements, so this allowed them to drop in/drop out.
2. Our apartment, though lovely, wouldn’t fit all the invitees comfortably at one time.

It all worked out beautifully. Except, of course, for my being done in by a nasty drink introduced to the party by our friend Suzanne. She had recently edited a drink book and this, unfortunately stuck in her mind; I certainly will never forget it. It is a wicked little concoction called a Duck Fart. And it does smell, not that I’ve actually ever had the pleasure, but I imagine it would be similar, like a duck fart.

It, however, is really tasty. It is layered in equal parts of Kahlua, Bailey’s and Jack Daniel’s. It goes down smooth and hits hard. And so, I ended about an hour or so before the party did. Ah well, a good time was had by all.

In the following two weeks, I had the joy of going through a colonoscopy and an endoscopy. A little holiday treat, that. My last physical turned up a bit of anemia and we’re trying to figure out what’s up with that. Nothing showed up in either of those tests, so we’re on to more. I get the next round of results after the holidays - easy tests, just blood-work. Somewhat ironic that they needed to take four vials of blood to see what’s up with my anemia…

As my reward for going through rather unpleasantly invasive tests, I gave myself the gift of theatre. Jamie & I went to PA to the theatre I grew up in, Genesius, to see “The Belsnickel Scrooge”, a PA Dutch take on “A Christmas Carol.” We loved it. It is so amazing to be reconnected with that theatre.

While in PA, we celebrated Christmas with my folks and our dear extended family members, Sue and Liz. We don’t get to see either my parents or S&L often enough.

Oops, forgot, on the weekend between my c’scopy and my e’scopy, we went to visit Jamie’s Mom in FL for her birthday. We had a great time visiting with her and Jamie’s sister, nephew and his new girlfriend. It was nice to get away from NYC for a bit, although I couldn’t wait to get back to the more seasonal weather. FL is nice, but give me seasons. I don’t care how many decorations you see, if it’s 80 degrees, it just doesn’t feel like Christmastime. This is, of course, coming from a confirmed Northerner, however, Jamie feels the same way and he spent most of his life in FL.

Anyway, that brings us up to the week past, which was filled with Christmas hubbub and such, including a wonderful holiday concert on Saturday featuring Karen Mason, an amazing singer and a lovely person. I worked with her years ago on “And the World Goes ‘Round: The Songs of Kander and Ebb”, back in the day when I was doing backstage stuff. She has such amazing control of her voice and such an amazing energy. She’s just, well, amazing.

She was briefly joined by Greg Edelman, Liz Calloway, and The Accidentals (a tight jazz acapella group) - all were great.

Oh and before the concert, we went to see Sweeney Todd, the film, not the theatre piece. It was magically delicious, go see it.

And that brings us to tonight, Christmas Eve.

We went to NJ to our Godson’s for the evening. Met the little fella and his mom at the train station - he loves trains - then headed to the 4 o’clock Children’s service at their church. Very nice service; Jamie & I both forgot how much we like the practice of going. We’ve decided to check out our local church soon. We both miss the brilliant eucharist at our old church, unfortunately, the emotional/spiritual toll of that place was too high so, the search continues.

After church, we went to their house and met up with the G’son’s dad and sister, Aunt and friends and we all shared a delicious dinner.

Then back to the city in time for me to light my bayberry candle. All these superstitions… I don’t know if it’s a PA Dutch thing or where it came from, but it is tradition in my family to light a bayberry candle on Christmas Eve and let it burn through the night into Christmas day - it must burn completely away. It’s said to be good luck, and like Jamie with his “the tree must come down on New Year’s Eve”, I ain’t messin’ with the mojo.

So here I sit writing, now officially Christmas day, while Jamie sleeps, dreaming of the early morning present opening to come.

So many opportunities we’re given. So many wonderful things to do and see and experience; just look back over just my last four weeks.

It really is a wonderful life.

And now, now that the candle has reached a point of safety, meaning, as it burns merrily in the sink, if it falls, it’s short enough to pose no danger of toppling out onto the floor, but rather just rolling around in the sink, I can guiltlessly go to bed. Jamie is very, very, nervous about the candle. Very. But it’s safe now, and I’m tired, and he’s going to get me up at first light for Christmas morning present-opening, so in the Christmas spirit I say,

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
k.

Tags: Family, Food, Jamie, Life, Spirituality, Theatre by Kirk
6 Comments »

Are tedious. I learned this last night. Last night, as I was peeling them for the stuffing that is at this very moment in the oven inside our turkey.

Jamie has written about our Thanksgiving dinner. Although somewhat smugly. Ahem…

Indeed, I have been loathe to go against the food experts and cook my stuffing inside my turkey. The recipe we’re using, however, makes it easy to cook it inside the turkey, to maximize the flavor, and yet easily remove said stuffing for continued cooking to temperature after the bird is removed. Indeed, compromise.

I don’t know about the green bean casserole happening today. I’ve been doing all the cooking this year, as Jamie has come down with one whopper of a cold and has been laid out since yesterday. I’m hoping against hope that I’m not visited by the same bug. Fingers crossed.

But yes, the chestnuts. I’ve never peeled chestnuts. Everything I read, pre-peeling, seemed to indicate that it was indeed a laborious, hit-or-miss kind of thing with, very often, crumbled, rather than nice, whole, nut meats.

I decided to try the 1896 recipe that I found on About.com. It worked beautifully. No crumbled nuts.

It’s still not easy though, prying the shells off the suckers; imagine hot splinters shoved under your fingernails over and over and over again and you’ll get the gist. My thumbs are achin’.

I’m sure the chestnuts will be delicious in the stuffing. I’ll enjoy it immensely and keep it as a fond memory as I’ve no intention of ever peeling chestnuts again.

The cranberry salad. This is an anticipated treat in my family usually prepared by my Aunt Marcia, and since she’s not here to prepare it for us… While I’m not at liberty to share the recipe, I can assure you, and Jamie, that there are no oysters or chives to be found. It’s delicious. It better be ’cause I did make a hell of a lot of it, although not the 18 pounds Jamie has indicated. By the time we finish it up though, it might just seem that way.

So last night, after I finished mutilating my thumbs, I took a needed break from the kitchen and headed outside.

Oh it was lovely. It was about 11PM. It was misty, very misty, with the light of the street lamps diffused in a beautifully cinematic way. I headed down our block to a little garden area notable only as it offers a break between buildings and an unobstructed view out over the park.

And there I stood looking out into the night sky. Alone with my thoughts. And it was one of those beautiful nights, so quiet, full of anticipation, “holiday nights”; everyone is inside preparing or sleeping, dreaming of tomorrow.

And then it rained. But not rain. I was standing under a wonderful old tree whose leaves had all gone yellow. A lifetime ago, I’d have been able to tell you what kind of tree it is, but it’s one of the many things that I’ve forgotten over the years; funny how that goes. At any rate, there I was, in that gauzy mist-light in an amazing drizzle of yellow leaves. I must have stood there a good 10 minutes marveling at it all, the leaves gently falling all around me.

I love magical moments like that. That’s what is brilliant about life; you never know when those kind of things will happen. You just have to stop and be amazed when they do.

And then I went back inside and continued cooking… until about 2AM. Whatever, I’m a late-night person. Always have been. I’ve been totally acting against my nature with my current job that requires me to get up at 6AM; I can do it, but really I’m not meant to, and by the end of the week, I’m worn out from it. But I digress…

So today, I’ve been taking it slow; Jamie’s still feeling like crap, though less so than yesterday. We were going to put off Thanksgiving until tomorrow but I didn’t want the turkey to sit in the brine that long. So I’ve meandered in the kitchen today, really all that was left to cook was the pumpkin cheesecake - had batter left over, made cupcakes, yummy! - and finishing off the stuffing for the turkey. Everything else was done last night.

Except for the imported, organic green bean casserole (see Jamie’s piece for that one). We’ll make that tomorrow.

For now, the comforting aroma of roasted turkey wafts enticingly ’round the house. It’s almost time to pop the sucker out of the oven to rest while its companion dishes fill the oven void to warm up to dinner temperature.

And on that note, it’s time to baste!

Happy Thanksgiving!
k.

Tags: Ephemera, Food, Jamie, Life, Nature by Kirk
2 Comments »

It seems as though that is exactly what this weekend is turning out to be. A weekend of roundtuit.

Now I suppose that it should really be spelled “roundtoit”. But, seeing it, you wouldn’t pronounce “roundtoit” the same, correct way one would pronounce “roundtuit”. At best, “roundtoit” would be gifted a French sensibility and be pronounced, “rontoi“; but what the hell is that? And without the French inflection, well, “roundtoit” is just rude.

So “roundtuit” it is. “Roundtuit”, as in, “when I get around to it,” in case that wasn’t painfully obvious by now.

‘Round to what? Little things around the house that I’ve been putting off: painting the trim on the door frames, painting the window trim in the bedroom, touch-up painting all over the house. Lots of painting. Frankly, I’m sick of painting.

But you know what? From now on, when I’m sitting on the couch or walking down the hall or lying in bed, well, I won’t have that splotch, that ill-defined line, that naked, primered window frame taunting me. No, I’ve put those little household demons to bed.

Now I can sit back, relax… and ponder the other projects I want to get done around here. The joys of home-ownership.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

New pix of the “finished” product coming soon, I promise.

k.

Tags: General, Life, Renovations by Kirk
No Comments »

I’ve mentioned briefly before Jamie & my recent collision with organized religion and how, through the bad, it did bring about great good.

For the two-ish years we attended this particular church, we were heavily invented in it, in all senses of the word; we invested our emotions, our time and our money. As I said in the post linked to above, we are both still giving back financially to… God, Higher Power, what-have-you: to the Divine from which all things come.

Yes, I am spiritual. I do believe in a “higher power”. I have my little conversations with whatever you choose to call it, nearly every day. I find it comforting. I find it worthy. I find, in this world of increasing “me”-ness, that the acknowledgement of some power “greater than” is a centering, humbling practice.

For me.

Everyone is different, has different needs, practices, beliefs or lack thereof. It makes me no better, or anyone who doesn’t feel the same way, any worse. Our differences, as my dear Bob Bendorff used to say, are what “makes the phone book”. Homogeneity, monoculture, how boring and soul killing would a world like that be?

So this week, I’m feeling like I want to go to church on Sunday. Not that church. Never going back there. But there’s an Episcopal within walking distance and I’d like to go tomorrow.

Why? I’ve no idea. It’s just a desire that’s cropped up in my gut. I tend not to question these things. I just feel like I want… I don’t know, the experience, the reverential pause, mutually shared.

I like going outside our apartment to look at the sky, the trees, the world. It is my own personal reverential pause. My personal moment to stop and look around me, to see and feel the world. And really, that’s kind of my church, standing in the air, listening to the trees and birds and insects, looking up at the stars… It’s where I find my “calm center”.

I’ve always had a dicey relationship with organized religion. Through the years I’ve read, tried out, experienced a variety of religious permutations: Christianity, Eastern, the old religions. I’ve found all of them somewhat lacking as they are all tainted by the human element. To use a base, somewhat spiritually deficient corollary, it’s like my beautiful, pristinely shiny stainless steel refrigerator, you can’t touch it without leaving a fingerprint. And that fingerprint stands out like a sore thumb.

Organized religion is the attempt to understand the mystical, to put it in a neat box. You can’t.

Well, oops, organized religion is the attempt to control the masses though the use of a big bat called “God”, ‘Allah”, the Maiden, Mother and Crone (admittedly the older earth-based spriritualities are less so, but still, in a coven, there’s a leader and where you have a leader…), what-have-you. Organized religion is about “rules”.

“The Spirit” existed long before man came along and will still be here when we are nothing but a memory. We are unnecessary in the bigger picture. Organized religion tends not to pay that any mind.

And in the end, what are these religions all saying? What is the base from which all the man-made extranea is built? What are the basic rules?

How about: respect and love.

How good is man with those concepts? How good is organized religion with those concepts?

And so, I’m left with this slight feeling of hypocrisy in wanting to go to church tomorrow.

But sometimes, I like the ritual, the community. And sometimes, the Spirit manages to make an appearance despite the man-made constraints. And those times are glorious.

k.

Tags: Life, Politics, Spirituality by Kirk
1 Comment »

This weekend was filled with ghosts. This is the ghost on our door. The sign, the sign mentioned in my last post that alerts kiddies and their parents that Trick-or-Treating is allowed. I dug into my big chest of arts and crafts materials (what? doesn’t everybody have one of those?) and pulled out some plaster cloth that’s been waiting for a purpose.

And the quinces from my rant about Martha? Yes, they are still sitting around, still pretty green, not yellow… Bitch. Anyway, I found a use for one of them. I needed a stand to hold the armature for my ghost. I took a quince, stuck five toothpicks in it to make it stable on the table and then I inserted one end of a shish-ka-bob skewer into it. Part way up (and I’m going in to all this should you find yourself with an errant green quince and a roll of plaster cloth, both of which have been taunting you with their inertia; now you can give them a purpose - I have saved the day), after fashioning it into a long triple loop to give it strength and also form at the ends, I wrapped some copper wire.

So far, we have a pentad-ed quince with a skewer protruding from its top with a copper armature one third of the way down, like a cross for some bizarre religion, worshipping… I have no idea. Grilling and electrical repair?

I needed a lovely, proportional head shape. And there in the refrigerator it was: a slightly shrivelled lime. Plop on the top of the skewer it went.

From there, it was simply a matter of wetting the plaster cloth and draping it spookily on the armature. Et voila! A lovely ghost, which stayed there drying over night.

Today, I carefully slid the lime and the copper armature off the skewer, then even more carefully pried the lime from under the plaster. It worked, the head did not nod forward: no one likes a sleepy ghost. I took a magnet from the fridge and stuck the little fella to the front door. So far, so good; it’s lasted the day.

But that was the least of the ghosts filling my weekend. Ghosts don’t need to be ethereal, sometimes people and places can be as haunting as any unnatural presence. Sometimes your past can be the ether you drift in to. And sometimes that’s not such a bad thing. Sometimes a walk through that mist is just what you need to clear your head.

After work on Friday, a particularly trying day, I met Jamie for dinner and a show. It had been quite some time since we had had a Midtown rendezvous, much too long.

We met at Le Madeleine, an excellent restaurant next to the Westside Theatre where I worked for many years before moving to my present job. As we sat at the bar, drinking and having dinner, we re-connected with old friends and acquintances from the nabe. I popped next door and ran into two of my former co-workers. It was nice to be there, in Midtown.

After dessert, before coffee, I went outside to, well, smoke. More about that later. But, as I stood there, under the Le Madeleine canopy as the rain fell, I realized that in the four years I’ve been in my present job, I’ve never felt at home; I’ve always felt as though I’m spending my time in some odd, foreign world, and that’s just the neighborhood. Now, there’s nothing strange about the Flatiron area, in fact, it’s quite lovely. It’s just never felt like, me.

So then we went to the show, The Farnsworth Invention written by Aaron Sorkin. I love his writing. Some people don’t. Some people think he is too wordy. I love his wordy-ness, as does Jamie. We loved the play. Briefly it’s the story of the battle between Philo T. Farnsworth and David Sarnoff. Between them, they created TV as we know it, the box, not the programming. A wonderfully written, powerful piece of theatre; I recommend it highly.

And there, another ghost, no not Allison Janney, although she was at the theatre, no, Kelly Martindale. There she was in the Playbill. A stage manager that I adore. She was the stage manager on Hedwig…. Beyond being a wonderful stage manager, she’s just a really, really nice person. The type of person who makes you smile no matter how crappy your day is; treasure those people. She deserves all the success she attains, cheers to her!

We had arranged to meet up after the show with a friend I hadn’t seen in ages. We worked together at the Westside. So there we sat, catching up and generally having a great time chewing the fat. It was lovely to see him, much too much time had passed.

After we said our goodnights to him, Jamie and I decided to pop down the block to the place where our friend Stephen hangs out. Sure enough, though close to closing time, there he was. And so we closed down that place and moved on with Stephen to close down another.

We wound up at Don’t Tell Mama, a piano bar where I spent way too much time many years ago. Again, saw many people I hadn’t seen in a long while. And being there always brings up memories of my late friend, Bob, who played piano there for many years. He’s been gone now for years and I still miss him. A lot. Some people leave this life much too early.

And last call came and went and then we said g’nite to Stephen and promised to not let so much time pass between get-togethers. It was quarter to four in the old AM and we cabbed home.

The people you value in your life shouldn’t become ghosts. Sometimes, as with Bob, they must; they can only live in our memorys and our hearts. But those people who are still here, still very accessible, we often let our lives drift apart, waving through the mist of “too busy” or “I should call sometime”; we shouldn’t let those connections go away, break. We need to recognize when the past is a good thing to let go of, and when letting go is losing something precious: friendship.

The ghosts of the weekend have been made flesh again. They’ve reminded me of a part of myself I had lost, or rather ignored. I think changes are in the wind.

Nite,
k.

Tags: Ephemera, Jamie, Life, NYC, Theatre by Kirk
2 Comments »