Annoyed, or Guilty?

I'll be the first to admit I am hyper-sensitive to noise, especially in an audience situation. It's a curse. However, I'm realizing this isn't just a personal character flaw.

My daughter and I attended La Cage Au Folles at the Kennedy Center last night (wonderful show!) While perusing the program (after waiting as long as possible to take my seat to avoid loud conversations and seat kickings), I came upon the following guidelines for audience etiquette. It was prefaced by a paragraph claiming that American audiences have a particularly bad rep as audience members. I can only cite my own experiences stateside and can't compare to audiences around the world, but would have to agree that the audiences I've been a part of have a lot to learn about respecting the rights of their fellow patrons. Of the following, I believe 50% were 'violated' during the performance last night:

A Gentle Reminder: Audience DOs and DON'Ts

It is always a good time to be reminded of what it takes to be a good audience member. Reprinted below, by permission of Stagebill, Inc. NY, is a list of audience "Golden Rules" which has appeared time and again in various concert/opera programmes. Observance of these rules guarantees a more enjoyable time at the opera or the concert hall.

ETIQUETTE UPDATE

Here's a refresher course. Please read on, and remember, part of one's pact as an audience member is to take seriously the pleasure of others, a responsibility fulfilled by quietly attentive (or silently inattentive) and self contained behavior. After all, you can be as demonstrative as you want during bows and curtain calls.

GOLDEN RULES

1. Go easy with atomizer; many people are highly allergic to perfume and cologne. (This one was particularly evident last night, and the mixture of scents was at times overpowering!)

2. If you bring a child, make sure etiquette is part of the experience. Children love learning new things. (Not a problem at this show, but often...yes.)

3. Unwrap all candies and cough drops before the curtain goes up or the concert begins. (Oy!! Post intermission, the two women next to me each had a candy bar, and ate them slowly, crinkling the wrappers, licking their fingers. oh.my.god.)

4. Make sure beepers, cellphones and watch alarms are OFF. And don't jangle the bangles. (Didn't hear any ringing or buzzing, but the woman two seats down was looking at her phone at the beginning of the second act, in between bites of her Snickers bar.)

5. The overture is part of the performance. Please cease talking at this point. (Yeah, notsomuch, apparently...)

6. Note to lovebirds: When you lean your heads together, you block the view of the person behind you. Leaning forward also blocks the view. (Same lady with the Snickers bar, kept leaning forward to look through her opera glasses.)

7. THOU SHALT NOT TALK, or hum, or sing along, or beat time with a body part. (At a show like La Cage, some things are a little okay...just don't kick the seat in front of you or block anyone's view!)

8. Force yourself to wait for a pause or intermission before rifling through a purse,backpack, or shopping bag. (Two different ladies behind me got into their purses several times, one needing cough drops -- yes, I always end up sitting in front of a cougher -- and one almost dropped the entire very large bag on my head.)

9. Yes, the parking lot gets busy and public transportation is tricky, but leaving while the show is in progress is discourteous. (Confession: We bolted as soon as we could, but not before the cast appreciation applause ended and the house lights came up.)

10. The old standby: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. (Apparently they would have me behave as if I were at a ballgame, not a musical at the Kennedy Center.)


All this to say that whenever possible, I am buying box seats from now on. Although, at a performance of Anne last December, a woman one box over was enthusiastically enjoying a bag of chips during the second act of this one-woman show. And I glared, several times. She finally put them away.

Sigh.

© 1997 Stagebill , Inc.

God Bless the Moon...

As I noticed the moon greeting us this morning, and the sun just beginning to make its appearance, I commented to Rebecca that this has been one of the prettiest Januarys I can ever remember experiencing in terms of celestial views. The sunrises, sunsets, and recent fullness of the moon have had me looking more often towards the light. And that full moon this morning reminded me of the mockingbird who, in it's zeal for life and living it to the fullest, spreads its joy into the darkest hours and on through to the light of day. We can learn so much about living life through nature.

Thoughtfall

Steps brisk and breaths quick,
The snow whispers soothingly,
Thoughts swirl like flakes.

The Bloggers

This is nothing more than a sharing of what I think is very important writing. This is the importance of words. Of sharing words in blogs. Of breaking silences and unburdening our hearts and minds. This is why I write. And why I read what is written.

Many suffer alone, but we don't have to. Depression and anxiety still carry a stigma. I know that I often feel pressure to be up, out there, happy, and notice that most people just want to hear that I'm fine and feeling better. It isn't always a simple "snap out of it" fix, and it's important that others know that. Anyhow, I'm grateful for blogs like this, and this. Very, very grateful.

Turds

Forgive them, and release them with love, she said.
I imagine setting them adrift at sea, like a rudderless
boat, or...
turds.

Everyone deserves love, all of us. Be happy
for those who find it. Wish them well, wish them joy,
wish them...
turds.

All people have good in them. We can't know their
whole story. They too have their troubles, their woes.
Forgive them...
turds.

My mind goes places I don't want it to.
It brings up memories, faces, words.
So when my mind betrays me, I imagine
nice, round, warm...
turds, drifting away on an endless sea.

Wish List

I had a conversation with two friends the other day. It was about love. One friend said she loved everyone. I said I didn't think that was possible. She said sure it is...you don't have to like them, you don't have to be around them, but you can love them. I asked how she defined that kind of love. She said well, if they were hurting or in need, you'd help them, right? I said yes, of course...that's just who I am. I do reach out, even when I've been hurt or judged by someone.

So, you know what I want for Christmas? I want people to get past their petty BS and be nice to each other. I want people to give others the benefit of the doubt, rather than assuming the worst about each other. I want people to realize that, while they are holding onto grudges and misconceptions and judgements, someone's best friend, college roommate, spouse, brother, neighbor, co-worker (the list goes on...) has been diagnosed with, is fighting, or has just died from cancer or (fill in the blank).

I want people to understand that each of us is struggling with our own doubts, worries, insecurities, and fears, and we should make an extra effort to be kind to each person we meet, rather than dismiss them as crazy, or whacked, or whatever definition allows us to separate ourselves from 'them'. I want people to understand that how someone behaves has less to do with them and more to do with the individual...that the individual handles their feelings and emotions the best way they know how, with the intention of feeling better. Nothing more. It is not that individual's responsibility to make those around them feel better. It is not their job to make others understand how they feel. Our feelings often come unbidden, we can't always explain them ourselves. How we process those feelings is very much a personal journey, and we should not be subject to judgement or expectations by others. There's no 'should' about it. It just is.

So that is my wish...that we all have the capacity to love each other. Including me...I need to love me and everyone else. And part of that love is offering help when it's needed. And giving myself the love and help I need during difficult and painful times is absolutely necessary, if I'm going to offer that to others.

There it is, what I want, and what i want to offer: Love. I love you all. Unconditionally. If you need me, I'm there. I have compassion and empathy for you and what you experience. I choose to ignore any judgement or hurtful thing you've said about me. I forgive you and choose to move into the new year with a clear conscience and an open heart.

May you enjoy the best the season has to offer, and may those feelings of peace and love and compassion carry through into the new year and beyond.

Memory Lane

Rebecca and I took a road trip for Thanksgiving this year. We drove to Schenectady, NY, to visit my childhood friend and explore the area that I spent years 6-9. Rebecca is a terrific travel companion, and was very tolerant (even supportive) of my need to visit the old neighborhood, elementary school, motel we lived in for a short time, and the park where my family used to picnic.

We arrived on Wednesday after a ten hour drive. Exhausted but happy to arrive, we enjoyed a pot roast dinner with Rani, her youngest daughter, and her boyfriend and son. Then Rani and I sat up and talked for a while, comparing memories and trying to figure out how it is we have remained friends all these years, when we knew each other such a short time (neighbors for two years, no classes together, don't even remember riding the bus together!) and looking at photos of the other people we both knew in the neighborhood and in school.

The next day, Rani cooked a turkey breast and I went out for wine (since I left the three bottles I'd purchased for the dinner at home). Then, we loaded up the turkey, pumpkin pie, and ourselves and drove to Rani's cousin's for the family dinner. This included her cousin and her husband and two grown sons and three Labradors, Rani's three daughters, and two grandsons. It was a full house! I had the dubious honor of carving the 20+ pound turkey and the turkey breast, and we commenced to eating...a delicious meal punctuated by the juggling of babies, shooing the dogs out of the kitchen, and random conversations.

The next day Rani had to work, so Rebecca and I set out exploring. First we stopped by the country store that has been in business since 1908, and where my family used to get pumpkins, apples, and who knows what else. We picked up several gifts and souvenirs and had fun looking at the nostalgic merchandise. Next, we set out to find the house where we lived on S. Country Club Drive. A cute middle class neighborhood that has changed very little in 40 plus years, it is situated next to the Mohawk Golf Club, where in the winter we kids would ice skate and where my brother and his friends would collect golf balls. I took photos of the house at 1186, as well as Rani's next door (now a beautiful red!)

I trespassed long enough to see the back yard, noting the door where our dog Nemui used to go under the house, the garage where my mom used to grow flowers (and a garden of some sort still exists),

the remnants of the willow tree I loved, and the absence of the brick outdoor grill that my father had built. The feeling of nostalgia that I felt is almost beyond description. Rebecca patiently walked around with me, and seemed fairly amused at my constant exclamations of how little things had changed.

Upon leaving the neighborhood, I pointed out where I would catch the school bus, and then drove almost automatically to the elementary school I had attended, looking the same but refreshed.

Next we drove into 'old town' Schenectady, actually called Upper Union Street. We walked the streets, had lunch at Gershon's, a Schenectady landmark (delicious Reuben!), and visited several shops, including Divinitea and Musler's. Then we got in the car and explored further into town, driving by Union College, The Stockade, train station, and more. Finally we headed back to the house, where we rested up before heading out to an amazing Italian meal at Augie's with Rani and her boyfriend. The portions at this place are unbelievable! We ordered two entrees and still came back with enough food for another meal for four.

On Saturday my goal was to find the motel where we had lived for a short time (it stands out in my mind, partly because it was right near a cemetery and we were there during Halloween, and partly because I was sick for part of the time, and have distinct memories of watching Mayberry RFD while my mom 'kept house' in our little room.)

Then it was off to John Boyd Thacher Park, or just Thacher Park, as I remember it. What a beautiful drive through rural upstate New York! My memory of the park, however, wasn't very accurate. I pictured a picnic area and a stream. What we found were incredible overlooks of the Hudson-Mohawk Valleys and the Adirondack and Green Mountains, innumerable picnic areas, and several hiking trails. We had heard about the Indian Ladder Trail, but it is normally closed by Thanksgiving. We were thrilled to find the trail open and, once we got past Rebecca's initial nervousness on the wrought iron stairs, "the trail follows the base of the escarpment passing under the Minelot Falls and by the stream exiting from a small cave in the base of the rocks. This water is actually from Thompson Lake, some two miles away, which makes its way through the porous limestone until it exits here. At the end of the trail, a second set of metal staircases take the visitor back to the top of the escarpment. The trail then continues back to the parking lot, offering excellent panoramas."

Finally we made our way back to the car and began the drive back to Rani's. As we drove along a country road, I saw a sign that read "Pottery For Sale". Since local art is one of the things I love to pick up on any visit to a new place, I decided to turn back. What I found was this:

After looking at the pottery and a few small paintings, I chose a small oil of some trees as my take-away local art, put my $5 in the jar, and we headed out.

We finished out our visit that evening with a family gathering for Rani's youngest daughter's 20th birthday, during which I was able to get some quality baby time in.

The next day we drove the ten hours home. I was feeling drained...exhausted and fulfilled, overwhelmed with memories and the poignancy of time marching on and those memories revisited. There was a sense of loss...but at the same time a sense of continuity. So many feelings that I'm still processing. What a wonderful trip. What a great experience for Rebecca and me.