I'm Singing This at a Wedding Next Weekend.

This is Micheal Hedges (1953 - 1997) performing his magnificent musical interpretation of the E.E. Cummings' (1894 - 1962) poem i carry your heart.

Honestly: I'm singing it at a Lesbian wedding in Leesburg on a Llama Farm - with a guy, named Steve, who is creating a piano version to accompany me; and we've never met, and won't meet until the day before the wedding. I have never found a transcription of the music, so he's creating this from ear. In case you didn't notice, the song starts out in 4:4, switches to 6:8, and back to 4:4. Three times.

I'm very excited. I sing this as an a capella piece, tightened up and faster. I think it's a remarkable performance, but a capella (unaccompanied vocal) feels weird. I hope this works out more brilliantly than anyone would expect. But it's very scary. Very; scary. (Intentional semicolon abuse for TJ & Jimbo.)

__________

Rolf's car broke down again at a light this morning. We just got it out of the shop on Friday, but only had $1,800 worth of the $7,000 needed work done. This news, I received not 30 minutes after the garage called me to say that my Jeep will cost $995 to have it repaired enough to pass the emissions inspection, so I can renew my license plates, for which I've already received two tickets, a $40 ticket to Arlington, and $75 ticket to Rehoboth. (Plus $1300 to replace the air conditioner's compressor - no thank you very much.)

Other news: I've lost 9 lbs, with 31 to go. My hair gets recolored tomorrow, my days of beach blond are at an end. I still haven't done the financial statements, and they were just asked for. I had five drinks last night. Well, it was two and a half drinks - but five shots. I measured. And the same on Tuesday. It wasn't enough. But it was enough.

Well, until Saturday.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

by E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

I See Their Reflections in My Face

Ugh, the weather wouldn’t be so bad, if it didn’t hurt. This pressure system is wrecking havoc on my sinuses, and I just don’t feel well. Combine that with my job being terribly easy and boring, oh, and plus I just don’t do it – and it’s just not feeling like a “Beads. Flowers. Freedom. Happiness.” day.

I’ve got financial statements that are three days past due. So I’ve got to do that today . . . and I shouldn’t leave until they are done. It means settling the bank account – and with this sorry ass accounting system that I manage – it means a lot of data entry. Then I have to update the payables – I’m behind on some payments that I haven’t even gotten in the system yet – and so there’s more data entry. Once that is done, I can put my head back on and create the financial statements, analysis, create journal entries . . . the fun part.

But until then, ugh. So, I’m going to watch a movie in a tiny screen on my monitor, while I rather mindlessly type sums and other numbers. Or, if I can find it, I’d like to listen to Hair.

Ooooh! I don’t have that, but I have Elegies by William Finn. I was just talking to someone about directing it! I don’t remember ever buying it. Now, I wish I was home so I could listen to it loud. . . I guess it’s a headphone day.

I’m doing a double at lunch today- first weigh in at Weight Watchers, and then go to a step A.A. meeting. Whether I quit drinking or not; at least it helps me not abuse it so very much. I drank last night. Just because I was happy to be home and I wanted to be happier. Dumb. I am my own favorite drinking partner.

Rolf’s not feeling well either. He says he thinks he’s getting a cold. I think we have the same thing – sinusitis with accompanying irritated throats. I hope it doesn’t interfere with my hot sex plans at the beach!

Well . . . Elegies is playing, and I’m loving it. So, it’s time to get busy. I’m only three days and two and a half hours behind. Financial Statements used to take me a week. Now, I’m not even sweating it – five or six hours should do. We’ll see.

All the best,

Vig

Beachin

Saturday

We crawled out of bed at eleven, and didn’t make it to the beach until 2. Even if my car hadn’t broken down, while enroute to pick up Rolf’s car from the repair shop, we might not have gotten to Rehoboth Beach before 1:30 in the morning; but I was gonna try.

"Poodle Beach" was lovely. Rolf had gone to Bad Hair Day to get a trim, so I went on to lay about "Poodle" with the house mates; Rolf came down later.

I’m the one searching the beach looking for a lonely stretch so I can walk and sing. I was laying, getting some sun, listening to The Last Five Years when “Moving Too Fast” came on, and I just got out of the chair and ran towards Dewey Beach, where there are less people to create a mob scene to make me shut up, so I could sing it loud to the fishes.

Laid out more with Rolf, before leaving at 5:30 to go see, and make dinner for Paxton out at his farm house in Milton. We were supposed to be there at six-ish. I don’t think we got there until 7:15. Oh well.

He shares this farmhouse with his ex-partner. It isn’t an ideal situation at all. We love them both. They had been together as long as Rolf and I. I hate what’s happened to them.

We haven’t seen Paxton this whole summer, and it was so nice to get to cook in that kitchen. It is big and has big windows above the sink and counter top that swing out, wide open to the screened in porch. And this is a porch that they had built, with bead board cathedral ceiling painted sea foam green, with the supporting cross beams painted white, and more than a half dozen Chinese paper lanterns hanging about.

We had drinks as I cooked. (I made it nine days . . . now it’s back to one.) And sat on the beautiful teak sofa’s on the porch. The temperature had dropped into the low 70’s, or lower. So I was wrapped in the hoodie I keep in the Jeep.

We didn’t make it to the “Madonna-thon” at 59 Lake in time to avoid the cover charge. But we got there early enough to have a good time. I’m no Madonna fan, neither is Rolf; but we were so excited just to dance to some music with actual lyrics and melody lines, that we had to go. Most of the house mates were there too. One was standing on the speakers dancing with his shirt off.

We had a few drinks there, and then went back to the beach house. While I was putting the remainders of dinner in the refrigerator, oh, and making more drinks (Vodka, Cointreau, and Diet Limeade.) The rest of the boys stumbled in – with the Baby Bear – asking if anybody wanted to smoke “something mellow” with him. Well, I’m all for that.

About six of us were out on the back veranda, not all were smoking. Rolf hadn’t intended to have many more drinks, but if I was going to smoke . . . I forced my full drink into his hand and said “Here, drink this! It’ll make the sex easier for you.”

Baby Bear went and got his friend – and I don’t know what his name is – but he’s the really thin one, with really big muscles, jaw line, six-pack abs; he’s very lithe. But, I wish he’d eat something. So he comes out in these skimpy designer briefs, and he’s kind of flirting with me, and I’m kinda flirting back . . . mind you these two things: Rolf was right there, and I really don’t find this boy to be attractive.

Well, what’s-his-name asks me if he can sit where I’m sitting? It didn’t make sense because I was drunk, well maybe he wanted to sit next to Baby Bear; but I thought he wanted to sit on my lap. Which wasn’t a good idea, because I was actually sitting on a three footed end table, but he sat on my thigh, ground his butt down to my thigh bone, then started pushing against my chest so the table we were sitting on started tipping back and I had to reach out and hold onto the house with one hand, and reach down and grab the table with another . . .

Rolf got up – I thought he was going to hit him. He pulled this guy off of me, and said “Hey, I’ve got an idea! Well, it’s not really and idea, why don’t you get off him, and you sit there, and then you can sit there.”

So, Rolf and I relocate to the lounge chairs, and this guy comes up to us and starts with a set of erotic poses. Rolf and I are just looking at each other bewildered, and then he, what’s-his-name, looks like he’s insulted and hurt and leaves, shutting the door soundly behind him.

“What was that!” I said when he left. Baby Bear just shrugged his shoulders. Other’s looked like it was time for bed. Everyone went in, leaving Rolf and I alone and bewildered. When we went in ourselves, Baby Bear was headed back to enjoy the remnants of the party and sorry to see it had broken up . . . and I felt bad about that . . .

But Rolf was drunk and horny . . . I was high, drunk, and horny . . .

And Baby Bear would just have to understand; it’s just one of those things.

Please Forgive This Helpless Haze I'm In.

Big Waves

Friday – I haven’t had a drink in nine days. Nine. Wow.

Last night I went to see SideShow. I’d arranged to have about a dozen friends there, plus others that I always know there at the Industrial Strength Theater. And it was very good to not be drunk. I was able to promote The Last Five Years (my next show), troll for staff, schmooze actresses and actors that I want to audition for me next Fall, and again the following Summer; and to top it off, I found a wonderful producer for The Last Five Years! But mostly, I could just celebrate being part of that community. I love those people!

Last weekend I was at Rehoboth where there are some people who like to take care of me. Well, they’re grateful that I like to cook and I’ve made a couple of meals for the house. A couple people offered my, ahem, favorite tobacco; and I just said “Nope. I don’t intend to drink today, and if I smoke that, I know I’ll follow it up with a drink.” And I didn’t drink. I can’t believe it. It was a wonderful weekend. The ocean was fantastic!

Oh! I got a new camera phone; and I took a great picture at the beach. Let me try to post it! YAY! IT WORKED! I DON’T KNOW THOSE PEOPLE.

Well, plan is to have lunch on the beach tomorrow. I plan to not drink. I’m claiming that it’s for the get fit regimen for The Last Five Years. It’s believable, because it’s just not going all that well. I’m down 6.6 pounds . . . since June. I hope I can make it a full ten lbs. by Wednesday.

OK. Hi. Bye. Sorry my last post was 4000 words. I keep doing that. This is 306 words. Better?

I ate the cake I had, and loved it; I ate the cake I had.

Around the world, with rose bouquets

Oh . . . wow.

Rolf dropped Leta and I off at the Greyhound bus station at 6:30 am. We made it to New York in four hours. Oh, and I tell you, four hours on a bus for $35 round trip, is just wonderful! Especially since I've driven the trip so many times. We just packed a few things into back packs. We walked up 8th Avenue and had lunch at the Time's Square McDonald's - as I always do. (I won't do it again though until the Time's Square construction project is done. It's just not the same for people watching when they have it all torn up. But when it's done, man, it sounds like Time's Square is going to get even brighter. There is going to be a set of red bleachers that are illuminated from below. That is going to set on top of the new TKTS Booth. Then the rest of the plaza is going to be paved with Lucite bricks that will also be lit from below. I can't wait to see it!)

and then - with time to spare - walking around time's square. We did so much walking - back tracking - going the wrong way - laughing as we got more and more exhausted . . .

We got to the Lobby of the Helen Hayes Theatre twenty minutes early. We stood inside to cool off, as it became warmer with the excited gathering crowd. An elderly woman asked us:

"Is this the line? Because I don't want to cut in line."
"Although we're good at it," her friend chimed in.
"we're subtle," said the first
"But it just makes us feel so bad."

We laughed.

The reason for the trip: Grey Gardens closes on 7/29. I SAW IT!



Wonderful Wonderful Wonderful!

It was just amazing. I was the first to lead the standing ovation. Our seats were perfect, in the very center row S. You may be surprised how small some Broadway houses are; row S is the last row in the theater, although there are two balcony's.

Afterward, we hopped in a cab to the Hotel Belleclaire at 77th and Central Park - where we were upgraded to a nice two room suite. We both tried to take a quick nap, seeing that we'd only slept for an hour on the bus - but with all the coffee and caffeine pills we took before Grey Gardens, it wasn't anything more than a timeout for tired travelers.

So, a caffeine pill and martini later, we're walking down Broadway trying to find a cheap dinner . . . when we recognized that we'd have a repeating occurrence of walking aimlessly lost through all of NYC. We'd already walked through and over Time's Square as we looked for the Music Store, now we were backtracking for a Subway Sandwich shop I thought I saw. . . and we walked four blocks back looking for it.

Then a taxi ride 41 blocks back to the theatre district to see:

XANADU
on Broadway
Seriously

We had great seats in Row H on the isle. And the show was brilliant clear eyed fun. It's only an hour and a half long, but just rollicking with laughter. Oh, and we got the tickets for half-price too from BroadwayBox.Com or TheatreMania.com. The show just opened last week, and I bought the tickets during previews, so half-price tickets may not be available right now, but I bet they will be again!

Read about Xanadu here!

And then, and then And gentlemen, and then.... And then we both go marching out into the fray Hailing a taxi and whisking to the Village Hark! The hunger is clawing at our brains Jubilations! We found a open bar with food . . .

(Of course we walked from Christopher Street and 6th, past Marie's Crisis to 4th street looking for a restaurant, and back to the Duplex (at 6th) to find that they didn't have food - so we walked to Marie's Crisis to find that they didn't have food - and back to the Ostia Restaurant next door to the Duplex . . . my hips ache at the thought.)

We sat next to the open floor to ceiling windows, ordered Cosmopolitans and Gazpacho -both of them were a matching yellow peach color - neither the color of cranberry nor tomato. We never did find out why, and we were too drunk to care. They were both delicious, just the wrong color!

Then I ordered Calamari in Squid Ink Oil - which looked like strips of white shoe laces covered with black shoe paste. And it colored my tongue black too. All in all, that little stop cost a flat hundred bucks. Ouch.

And then we rolled over to Marie's Crisis! A low ceilinged dive packed with gay men, and perhaps a bachelorette party. They were singing, from Chicago, *They Had It Comin'* -
the ham fisted piano player banging as a Rugby Player sang the solo. At the end of which, you'd have thought we were there with the entire Gay Men's Chorus of NYC. A complete all male rendition, with full counterpoint followed. It was amazing.

The next morning - feeling guilty that I'd led us walking for blocks, and then backtracking almost to the beginning three times on Saturday - we walked out of the hotel onto 77th Street.

"Which way?" I said.
"To the right." said she.

And off we went looking for Central Park and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. First searching for coffee and water, then for Central Park Avenue.

West End Avenue. Delis and laundromats and gay bars, West End Avenue. Only a block away from Zabars . . . we sing as we cross. . .

and begin to wonder . . . "why is that street called Riverside Drive . . ? Now this must be Central Park . . . where are the skaters and runners and bikers? . . . must be down a few blocks. . . and why is Central Park West called Riverside Drive here. . . WHERE'S THE MAP!"

Yup. Luckily we'd only gone four and a half city blocks in the wrong direction, two and a half over, and two down . . So, another three and a half city blocks back and we found Central Park.

At this point, we are checking the map every ten paces. A jogger stretching his hamstrings against a stone curb wall in the pleasant morning air at the 72nd Street Entrance asks if we know where we are going.

"OH, we're just walking through Central Park to get to the Museum . . . "Leta said.

"Hmmm . . . " he said warily . . . We laughed . . . "Actually we've been lost so many times already . . ." we tumbled over our words to accept his help. Everyone was real nice. Mostly, they always have been.

He set us off on the right path through a section of Central Park I hadn't been to before. Of course there were plenty of half naked men running, biking, skating; young families with children and strollers, dogs on leashes. And it was a beautiful morning, but heating up. We passed the Swedish Cottage for Marionettes, and the Shakespeare Garden - which I made Leta slow down for a look. We passed the Delacorte Theater where they have Shakespeare in the Park. It was *so* not what I expected. I thought they set up a temporary stage on the great lawn for every play! Who knew there is this grand amphitheater in Central Park. Not to mention a castle! There is a Castle! The Belvedere Castle overlooks Turtle Pond . . . And this is all pretty close to the Great Lawn where many different ball games - little league, boys and dads, coed college - baseball and soccer, all the games just seemed to be about to get started.

And without any further double backing - we found the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

"Obviously" I thought, "this is going to be as impressive as the Ufizzi Gallery in Florence. "

And I still think that. It is largely left still for me to explore. But I saw the stunning new Greek and Roman Galleries, the Clark Brother's Collection of Impressionist and Early Modern Paintings (Including works by Degas, Renoir, Van Gogh, Monet, and Seurat - he of Sunday in the Park With George fame.) It was incredible.

After a few hours wandering, having seen just two or three collections, but needing coffee, water, and a lounge chair - we asked a docent how to get to the Roof Garden Cafe.

And even though we had a Floor Plan . . .