antidote

Today was a nice antidote to a weird week.

In addition to the incredible tragedy that I wrote about yesterday, we attended a play on Tuesday night that was disturbing and brutal. It was a premiere called Trojan Barbie, staged at the oh-so-intellectual and oh-so-avant-garde and oh-I'm-so-over-it ART (something something Theater). TB was inspired by Trojan Women, itself a purely tragic play from all I've heard.

The premise was kind of interesting, the execution less so. A precious, shallow doll repairwoman vacations in Troy, falls through the cracks (of archaeological layers? of time?), and lands in the detention camps of the Trojan Women, who are now all modern. We witnessed horrible tragedy after horrible tragedy, and heard more described in graphic detail. The tourist is "rescued" and brought home. Eventually, she re-encounters Hecuba who by now has gone completely mad.

I think the main points are that "war is hell," times never change, and we keep a neat distance between ourselves and evil until we're directly involved.

There's a reason some plays don't have an intermission, this being a good example. I was fairly shaken up by the play. The only thing that kept me from leaving about half an hour in was that I would have had to disturb way too many people on my way out. So I sat through the whole thing. Ick.

Then yesterday, I wangled a doctor's appointment at lunch time to start understanding something that might be minor (would be nice); we'll see. Of course, the doctor couldn't see anything and the whole point of that exercise was to get a referral, and I'll have to wait a few weeks until the next appointment. More on that if anything happens.

And work has been very intense. I've been fairly busy lately and had mapped out all of this week to get a surge of work done when... at the last minute... I was informed that I had meetings every day for about four hours each day. I managed to fit everything in -- the pre-mapped work wasn't as bad as I'd feared -- but it was intense.

Today is a relatively quiet day before I go away for that conference I'm speaking at. I got up early (thanks, kitties!) and went for a nice long swim, then came home for a spot of coffee, and out again to get my hair cut. It's always a pleasure to see my hair cutter. Then I went to a recently-opened coffee shop in town and ran into someone I know distantly, a rather lovely woman, and was brave enough to ask if I could sit with her. We ended up having a nice conversation and we were even joined for a bit by the shop owner.

On top of that, it's a beautiful spring day. Colors are intense, temperatures are mild, and everyone has a smile on their face.

Now I just need to get ready for the trip and off I go!

Fred Wilson

They say that when you talk to someone, you never know when it will be the last time. I attempt to imbue my leave-takings with fondness and caring. I especially practice that habit with Robert, even if not always consciously. A car accident, a sudden encounter in a dark alley, and you've just experienced your last memory of someone you care for.

And so it goes with our friend Fred Wilson. Ten or so days ago, he and I had a lovely catch-up chat at one of our regular contra dances. He lived in Maine, in Portland, and regularly came all the way to the south of Boston to dance with our group. He worked for many years with a close-knit group of people in a computer department, and had recently set out on his own as a consultant. He lived by himself, was sweet and gentle and a pleasure to dance with. We saw him fairly regularly at evening dances and at dance camps, had gotten to know him, and liked him quite a bit.

And then yesterday came the news that he had been found murdered in his own house. His neighbors were fond of him and called the police because something wasn't right. The murder weapon has been found. The police know who killed him and are investigating further. I don't know much more. It is a mystery, and a very sad one. He will be deeply missed.

passing over, through, and out the other side

Tonight marks the beginning of Passover, a holiday of joy, transformation, hope, and liberation -- at least that's how I see it. It's the only holiday that I celebrate from my distant past -- the rest are typically too silly or too morose. I note the rest, nod politely, and they pass me by. Sometimes the polite nodding includes a bit of sharing in a little traditional food.

But this one -- with its references to celebrating our freedoms, to spring and fertility, to renewal, to life continuing, to the cycle of the seasons -- this one really inspires me.

In the past, we've attended seders at the houses of two friends, quite different one from the other (both the friends and their seders). Unfortunately, one half of that perfect pair died a few years back, so we attend just one seder for now.

We always bring a fruit salad to contribute to the festive meal. This year, I offered to bring something in addition and was assigned a kugel, a dish that does not require fancy or careful baking techniques. I thought I could handle it.

We made it last night. I figure that anything that starts with eight eggs, a stick of butter, two kinds of sugar, and fresh and dried fruit can't go too wrong. Robert got in on the fun and we did have some good laughs in the process. I gave him the chore of breaking up matzoh, soaking it in a cup of water (until moistened but not soaking - wtf?), then squeezing the moisture out.

He kept saying "Who makes this stuff up?" and "I can't believe I'm standing here squeezing out wet matzoh." It was a little surreal, especially given that we're attending a meat meal and our hostess said that using butter (rather than margarine) was just fine with her. Couldn't we just have thrown in some flour and be done with it? No.

So we had some good giggles and the finished product looks very good indeed.

I'm looking forward to sharing the festive meal with old friends and to celebrating the holiday in out hostess' style. I will give quiet thoughts to the parts left unspoken.

weekend - more relaxing

We had a slower weekend this time around. Now I feel like it's been ages since I've been at work, even though it's been the same three days as always.

On Friday night, we thought about going to a concert for which a friend formed one-third of the percussion section. It was close to home and it would have been nice to support her. We also thought of going to a CD-release party for a friend who's just made his very first recording.

Instead, we attended to our own exhaustion and went out to dinner and home to bed. Boring. Necessary.

On Saturday afternoon, a friend who has picked up the trumpet of late gave her very first recital. We definitely went to that. There we were amongst fewer than 20 people listening to live music being made. I don't think I've ever before been that close to a live trumpet. I think my friend was frustrated because her playing wasn't as phenomenal as it is without an audience. But how wonderful to see her live out her passion, and how brave she was to ask a group of loving friends to watch. Very exciting.

Then in the evening, we headed into Boston for a sold-out Bernadette Peters concert. She was phenomenal. She had a 25-piece orchestra supporting her, looked fabulous, moved gracefully, and her voice -- she was made to sing. She did a handful of Broadway hits, and then moved on to mostly-Sondheim.

I should note that when I first started listening to Sondheim I didn't much like him, but I've developed a taste for his work over the years. This is a Good Thing, given that BP devoted so much of the concert to his songs. This woman makes singing Sondheim look easy and natural, something I know to not actually be the case.

At one poignant moment, she sang Not a Day Goes By, extra emotional because her own husband died four years ago (she didn't mention that in the concert) and because the same song was performed at the memorial service we attended a few weeks ago. She also sang Shenandoah, of all songs, and I thought I was going to cry. Lovely. A very generous concert and I'm so glad I convinced Robert to go with me.

We did get to spend some time outside this weekend and got work done in the yard. Things actually look better as a result. And we went for a long walk yesterday, just around town. So we're well-rested and ready to face the week with a little more energy than we had last Monday.