Too Busy to Breathe

I'm afraid I am in so far above my head... I spent the day playing with Google. Well, part of the day. The rest was spent cleaning, something I am incapable of doing flat out so I pepper the effort with eating, working on the computer and watching TV. So while I watched "House" and "NCIS" reruns, did the laundry, cleaned the living room, kitchen, two bathrooms, our bedroom and exchanged my summer clothes for my fall/winter clothes, I got myself a Google Voice phone number for my Stray Kats Theatre Company, set up a second Google account attached to my other email address which is attached to my website, and got another Google Voice number for my acting career which makes it look like I live in New York and not in "Bumfuck" as my kids so lovingly call it. Are you as confused as I am? When I tried to post this blog entry Icouldn't remember how to sign in. Too many passwords and usernames. I've either got it straight now or have just complicated my life to the point of insanity.

It has been a strange week. My husband, freaking out when the temperature dropped to the 60s, dashed off to spend a week in Florida with my Mom and brother. I was concerned that his delirium at being in the tropics would wear off after 24 hours and they would kill each other, but he's coming home tomorrow and they all still seem to be happy. (Actually, they're having a ball! Why is it never so peaceful and cheery when I am there too?)

I am still recovering from the back to back marathons of Giants and Jets opening days at the New Meadowlands Stadium last Sunday and Monday. Just getting there was a trip (and I mean that literally and figuratively), waking at 4 a.m., deer-dodging down the Saw Mill River Parkway (I have NEVER seen so many deer) and then almost being blind-sided by one poor, lost, terrified buck on the 8-lane approach to the Tappan Zee Bridge. (What WAS he doing there?!) Two 14 hour days of non-stop catering. We made more coffee than Starbucks! And forget about the beer! I returned home to prepare for the start of my acting classes the next night only to discover I had two students. Then three. I called them to cancel. Then another call and bingo, I had four. I uncancelled. Then only three showed up. I did the class anyway. Then one dropped out because they wouldn't let her pay in installments. I'm sorry, but is there anyone out there who can just plunk down a chunk of change these days? It's fine with me!!! I just want the students! Pay when you can! But no, she's gone. So now I'm down to two. Guess I'll be cancelling that by next week. I'm trying to look past the fear and see the message: What am I supposed to be doing? Meanwhile, I juggle: NMS, Stray Kats, Seven Angels, Play With Your Food, "Cheesecake Proposal" (I'm directing), Flagpole Radio Cafe (I'm going to be acting), and cleaning the house. Is it any wonder I'm confused?

All Around the Mulberry Bush...

How badly did we want the rights to do a reading of Albee's "A Delicate Balance"? First I call the WIlliam Morris Agency as per the instructions in the script. Jonathan Lomma at WMA tells me "This request goes to DPS. Craig Pospisil can help you." Craig Pospisil at DPS tells me Samuel French publishes and licenses A DELICATE BALANCE. Jonathan Donahue at Samuel French tells me to send to Jonathan Lomma at William Morris: 1.      Headshot and resume of each actor (including age) 2.      Director CV 3.      Rehearsal schedule (Minimum 4-week rehearsal period and 4-day tech period, separate and IN ADDITION TO the 4-week rehearsal period) 4.      Performance schedule (Including not shorter than 1 week of previews) 5.      Costume Design Sketches 6.      Set Design Sketches I tell Jonathan Donahue "I JUST WANT TO DO A READING! Besides, I have already contacted Jonathan Lomma and he said to contact you."   Jonathan Donahue replies: "Thank you for this additional information.  You may still be required to provide some materials to Jonathan Lomma at William Morris." And to… "Please also include his assistant on any correspondence…" So I write again to Jonathan Lomma and asks me, "Have you submitted any materials?" I explain. "Catch 22?" Jonathan Lomma writes: Ok. Everybody hold and let’s appreciate how hilarious this is getting. Kate, let me make a phone call… I short order, I hear from Alicia Grey at Samuel French and the arrangements are made. I am given a price for the rights to do two readings plus a "convenience fee" if I pay online. "Convenience?" I send a check.

Afraid to Read

My husband has very good taste in books. I don’t know how he does it but he manages to find books that are really good among the stacks of bestsellers designed to get a person on the subway from point A to point B without missing their stop. He finds books that make you want to ride on until the book is done. His last suggestion was “The True Story of Hansel and Gretel” and I loved every beautifully, painfully crafted page. I picked out the next book by myself and it is so boring and redundant, I stopped midway, unable to believe it made it into print. There is not a single character I care enough about to turn another page. I find myself resisting his latest suggestions though. I am reluctant to begin anything good knowing that it will end. By the same token, I can’t bring myself to get another dog. Dogs and good books are two things that require a commitment knowing full well that they will end, that you will have to go on without them, paying the emotional tax of losing them. Anyone who has ever loved and lost a dog knows what I am talking about. The hole they leave in your life can never be filled. Even now, years after my Roma passed, I cannot drive through Fairfield Hills without seeing her walking up the hill with me, so happy in her outing, only to discover moments later that she was in incredible pain and would have to be put down because of bone cancer in a few short weeks. So it is with characters in books that I come to love and then have to leave, wondering about what they will do next. I am worried about Gretel and the scars she bears. Will Hansel ever be able to trust anyone or will he always sleep with one eye open? My husband is already a few books ahead of me and I sigh looking at them on my nightstand, afraid to take the plunge.

Who Do I Call

It’s been such a busy summer. Here it is, Labor Day weekend, and we haven’t had a single dinner on our lovely deck. We normally reserve the bulk of our meager “entertaining” for summer weekends, placing a couple of tables along the side of the long deck and having what I perceive as Italian style dinners “al fresco”, surrounded by the trees and sometimes dodging the acorns that fall from the trees like bullets. It is Saturday morning and I am contemplating who to call. Who will be available at the last minute? Of the groups of people I think make great dinner combos, which ones do I call first? Which one of each group is pivotal? And which group? Which of my friends won’t look at the hodgepodge my house has become and not shake their heads in disbelief at the chaos? Our son moved back in for the final year of his master’s degree so he could take a hospital post nearby and also so he could afford to eat. With him came all the furniture he accumulated: not much; a desk, a chair, a futon. Consequently, we moved the couch in my office to the living room, put the futon in the office, moved the nightstand in his room to the other side of the bed to make room for the desk and squeezed the chair in between the desk and the bed. He is now able to sit at his desk and stretch his legs out on the bed while studying. The bed also makes a great shelf. As for the living room… well, my husband sat down on one of the two sofas, three armchairs, three dressers, three footstools and a coffee table to have a cup of coffee and I said, “The Doctor will be with you in a moment.” It looks that much like a waiting room. It reminds me of an old story: A woman goes to the Rabbi and says, “Oy, Rabbi, I don’t know what to do! My house is so small and crowded, it’s making me crazy!” He tells her to go to the barn and get all the chickens and put them in the kitchen. They get the goat and the cow and the horse put them in the living room. Then put the rabbit cages in the bedroom. So she does. A week later she returns screaming. “Rabbi, what did you do to me? I have no room even to move!” So he tells her to take the chickens back to the bar, the goat the cow and the horse back to the pasture and the rabbits back outside. She returns a week late and says, “Rabbi, you’re a genius! I have so much room!” So my son says we should have a party because there are so many places for people to sit and talk. I say yes, but is there any place for them to walk? Is the glass half empty or half full? I have never been able to answer that. Meanwhile, who do I call?

Another Opinion of "The Mosque"

I don’t believe that anyone is actually objecting to the construction of an Islamic Center in New York City. What I believe what people are objecting to is the construction of a monument to one of the major causes of the events on 9/11.

Imagine if a Neo-Nazi group wanted to build a Hitler Youth Center across the street from Dachau. They’re not “Nazis” in the 1930s-1940s sense; they just want a place to play basketball. Would anyone object? You betcha! The idea of building a monument in any sense to the terror the Nazis rained down upon the world is unthinkable. The idea that one would be built near any spot where so many died in the name of their ideology is unimaginable. So why is it that there are people who are not affronted by the idea of building a gorgeous, gleaming 13 story tower dedicated to an ideology that brands all non-Muslims as infidels; that to this day, kills people for “spreading Christianity” in Islamic countries, and, to top it off, placing that monument near the site where over 3000 people died in the name of that ideology?

A while back, my family drove to Wallingford CT to protest at a neo-Nazi rally. Some right-wing lunatic was speaking at the library there and hundreds of people showed up to let him and his supporters know they were unwanted. No one stopped him from speaking though; in the U.S. this was his right. No one is objecting to the construction of an Islamic Cultural Center either. We may not agree with the extremist fringe of Islamic ideology but no one is saying “you have no right to be Muslim”; just not here where the sight of such a monument is painful and inappropriate.

No Longer Dead

There was a running skit on Saturday Night Live several years ago that poked fun at industrious immigrants to the USA and the number of jobs they managed to piece together to earn what might amount to a living. The characters in question were Korean and they would boast, “I have seven job.” “I have twelve job”. Well, just a few more “job” and I will officially be Korean. I work the Meadowlands, supervising a pantry so that people who could afford to see Jets and Giants games in the most expensive way imaginable get their food on time, at the right temperature and attractively presented. I don’t mind the job, demanding as it is; the time flies and I find myself back in the car after a mere 13 hours with feet throbbing a mantra as insistent as the buzz of a neon sign about to blow. I work for two theatre companies in addition to the one I am trying to start. This is at one time challenging and educational. The problem is that, being a fairly ethical person, I feel guilty if I keep any of what I learn for my own company while I am researching on their time. I try to stay present, concentrating only on what is before me and turning it off as soon as I finish a task. It is an interesting process that leaves me exhausted but unable to sleep. Right now I am waiting for my half of an Ambien to kick in and give me at least six uninterrupted hours. My dreams have been wild, filled with odd travel arrangements and strange bedfellows. I have moved into several variations of my childhood home, been on ships, planes, flown without a plane, and mingled with people who are long gone. My mother, who believes that dreams have meaning, would ask me if they gave me anything. I’m not sure. But I do know if has felt very good to see them all- my Bubby, my Dad… In a few weeks I will get even busier and will need to focus more than ever. I can do this. I may have to tune out a thing or two… a person or two… but that’s another story. The Lexapro is helping. I am not overwhelmed. I think I am no longer dead.

Ah Levai

I’m not quite sure what the literal translation of “Ah levai” is but my grandmother used to say it a lot. I understand the context. I think it means something like “Thanks to God”. “Ah levai, we should all be healthy.” “Ah levai, I hope this works out.” It is used interchangeably in my vocabulary with “From your mouth to God’s ears.” That is to say, “I sure hope this happens.”

It’s been a good summer, and I don’t mean to speak of it as if it already over, being that it is barely the middle of August, but it seems like it has been summer for a long while now and, yes, it has been good. I wanted to run two three-week sessions of my summer workshop for kids but I am pleased with the success of the single program I was able to fill with 25 students. As a result of the shortened work schedule, I was able to spend a few days visiting my Mom in Florida and basking in the warm salt waters of the southern Atlantic, an absolutely delicious experience. I returned to audition for Long Wharf Theatre which went well and was followed by a call from dear friends to spend a long weekend in the Hamptons. We tossed some things in a bag and ferried over Long Island Sound, a much better idea than bucking the traffic on the Long Island Expressway on a Friday. With waters about 20 degrees cooler than I had been used to, I still basked in the waters of the Atlantic, although it did take a full minute before I could catch my breath in the chill. Upon returning home, I got word that my unemployment insurance has finally, completely expired. I am now fully dependent on the string of part-time jobs I have pieced together. Ah levai it will be enough. We always seem to be one step ahead of the wolf at the door. Ah levai that will continue. I auditioned at Hartford Stage today and ah levai that will be productive. My son has had interviews at Danbury and Hartford Hospitals for his final year of grad school and ah levai will graduate in May with a Master’s Degree in something he enjoys doing that will bring him a security we have never known. In the meantime, he is moving back home to save money. Ah levai we can all live together after all these years without wanting to kill each other and/or ourselves. He’s on his way with a carload of clothes and books and I am sort of excited about the year ahead. Ah levai it will be a good one. Ah levai.