EXTRA CRITICUM

More or Less... A Year of Challenges & Serendipity

My pants are all tight.

My neighborhood bodega has survived.

I don't sleep through the night anymore.

My notebook of tune ideas is full.

There are friendships I fear may be slowly disappearing.

I've reconnected with people I love in distant time zones.

Productions have stalled.

New voices have found me through Zoom.

My apartment's a mess.

I clean when I want to.

My dear friend has died.

We said what we had to.

I talk to myself prolifically.

I don't care if they hear me.

Tomorrow's uncertain.

Today's more alluring.

An Hour and a Half

After my first sleepless night in my apartment after having been away for awhile, I noted, first the sound of gentle rain out my open bedroom window. Then I glanced at the alarm clock on my nightstand. 

8:00 AM

I debated. Should I get up despite the late hour and enjoy a walk in the rain (as is my thing), or skip it and get to the business of the day ahead.

I opted for the walk.

On my way out of the building I noted with surprise that the overnight doorman was there chatting with a woman with a gorgeous dog waiting patiently.

I turned back toward them and asked a question we don't ask much these days in a world where "smartphones" are ubiquitous.

"Excuse me."

"Yes," they both answered in unison.

"I'm sorry. Do you happen to know what time it is?"

In Memoriam: August van der Becq

My friend August is dead. And it's going to be a long time before I really feel that news. 

We met 40 years ago at an outdoor concert in Connecticut. I don't recall who was playing. Two groups of friends with little overlap had gathered together. She from one group, I from the other. We'd grown up in the same town but had attended different schools and so our paths had not crossed until that warm summer night when, as we both preferred to describe it, we met over a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. 

It's funny. It never dawned on me before but Kentucky Fried Chicken really did loom large in my childhood. The earliest recording I've ever heard of my own voice was, I think recorded when I was two or three years old. Certainly pre-nursery school because in the recording I can be heard saying (with great glee and enthusiasm) "Can we get Kentucky Fried Chicken?" And we're sure the recording was made before I crossed the threshold of any school or daycare because I am asking for this chicken in a decidedly Polish accent. 

But I digress. August and I were both legendary eaters. And so, naturally, when confronted with a bucket of KFC, we lingered. And so, naturally, we started talking. 

Turned out she'd heard a bit about me from one of the older boys who apparently had his eye on me as his next conquest. And, well, it was clear to me even then as the seduction was unfolding, that my new gal pal was meticulously orchestrating the entire affair. She thought I was unaware. But I was rarely unaware. Especially when it came to her machinations.

What to do When All You Wanna Do is Curl Up in a Fetal Position and Cry

These past few weeks have not been easy. I have a very sick friend. We have a very sick leader and a very sick country and the key to survival feels like it goes against the grain of everything we humans are built to do -- touch, listen, show affection, bathe in the warm glow of others.

So, I can't say I've been terribly productive. Because I really haven't. In fact, I found myself so stressed last week that I decided to postpone a show I'd advertised for Halloween night. Bottom line is I recognized about 36 hours ahead of time, that I was pushing forward with the show in order to not allow myself to feel the stress and sadness and anger that's just part of where I am right now. 

And if you've ever tried that sort of self-deception, you know it doesn't really work. So I was starting to resent this little solo musical I'd conceived of as a wholly improvised bit of horror and instead of opening my mind to possibility all I felt was dread. So that was good. I'll do the thing in a month or two and it'll probably (hopefully) be better for it.