So Wifey got an email from the U last week. Since I'm a member of the President's Circle, they offered us some tickets to see "Rent" at the Ring Theatre. We went last night.
The place was sold out, and it was Wednesday. The lights dimmed; the show started.
I have to say, "Rent" sisn't my kind of show. It's a rock opera, and, as far as I'm concerned, after "Tommy" they should have retired the genre.
The story, based on the Puccini opera, followed the lives of starving artists in Alphabet City in New York, as they died of AIDS and fought the gentrification of their squatters colony.
There were only 2 songs I liked, and the tale grew too melodramatic for my taste --dying transvestites, and miraculous recoveries for Mimi, found near death in the park. Oy.
Still --the young cast made it an enjoyable performance. They were so passionate, and enthusiastic. A few had star quality --beautiful voices and believable acting skills.
The Ring stage was the training ground for Sly Stallone and Ray Liotta, and as I watched the young performers, I wondered whether any of them would become famous.
After the show, Wifey and I strolled through campus, under an amazing full moon. We cut through the law school, which always brings a degree of queasiness to me, as I remember all of the boring lectures, and ponderous workload of those long gone years.
I also remembered some epic laughs, though. Wifey recalled our softball team, and watching us play with some of the other then-girlfriends, who became wives, and then, even ex-wives.
She remembered how young we looked, and how we were, like the performers, full of enthusiasm, and passion.
There's certainly something to be said for hanging out with the young...
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Becoming Ourselves
I read somewhere that, as we age, we become truer to our real natures. Boy, I hope that's not accurate.
To my observation, aging is awful. Folks become angrier and crabbier. They're less patient. They've more judgmental. They're less fun.
I speak to my ancient Mom every few days. Although she asks after my family, it's clear that she lives mostly in her own head. Before I even finish an answer about what the Ds are up to, she is talking about some doctor appointment, or the fact that a neighbor's construction project is "driving her insane."
A close friend tells me that, as he ages, he has pledged to become "more patient, more understanding, more, well...Buddhist-like." Of course, the opposite is true. Just the other day his secretary made a mistake, and he went off on her as if she had embezzled all of his company's money.
My friend Steve, the professor I'm going to teach with tthis Summer, is a specialist in aging. He has studied it all of his professional career, and lectures throughout the country on the topic. He tells me that caring for the elderly is so tough because of their meanness, ofter, and their unattractiveness, as well as the knowledge that they're not going to get "better." Plus, we all see our futures in the elderly, and it's not pretty!
Friends' parents have been dropping like flies recently. I was at a funeral just last week, and then yesterday my old friend Vince told me his mother in law was dying. He really likes her, contrary to typical mother in law jokes, and his wife and he are suffering this coming loss.
I guess it's all the more reason to celebrate Wifey and my relative youth. Our girls are grown, and we don't feel too old yet. Based on what we see, we may want to stay at these ages for a long time.
To my observation, aging is awful. Folks become angrier and crabbier. They're less patient. They've more judgmental. They're less fun.
I speak to my ancient Mom every few days. Although she asks after my family, it's clear that she lives mostly in her own head. Before I even finish an answer about what the Ds are up to, she is talking about some doctor appointment, or the fact that a neighbor's construction project is "driving her insane."
A close friend tells me that, as he ages, he has pledged to become "more patient, more understanding, more, well...Buddhist-like." Of course, the opposite is true. Just the other day his secretary made a mistake, and he went off on her as if she had embezzled all of his company's money.
My friend Steve, the professor I'm going to teach with tthis Summer, is a specialist in aging. He has studied it all of his professional career, and lectures throughout the country on the topic. He tells me that caring for the elderly is so tough because of their meanness, ofter, and their unattractiveness, as well as the knowledge that they're not going to get "better." Plus, we all see our futures in the elderly, and it's not pretty!
Friends' parents have been dropping like flies recently. I was at a funeral just last week, and then yesterday my old friend Vince told me his mother in law was dying. He really likes her, contrary to typical mother in law jokes, and his wife and he are suffering this coming loss.
I guess it's all the more reason to celebrate Wifey and my relative youth. Our girls are grown, and we don't feel too old yet. Based on what we see, we may want to stay at these ages for a long time.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Hey Bungalow Bill
One of my office roommates is off to Africa tomorrow, for a 2 week hunting trip. He's so excited about it --he's going to hunt elephants.
Apparently, the government sells licenses to rich hunters to take out "problem elephants." These are critters that have caused problems to villagers. Otherwise, it seems, you can't just go blast Dumbo.
I certainly don't get it. I've never understood any type of hunting, let alone animals I've always read are social, and gather together when one of their pack? herd? gets injured.
My roommate hunts in Africa once per year. Last year, he shot a lion, and several large apes, as well as a bunch of antelope looking things (I can never keep those antelope-like animals separate in my mind). He's also shot big moose-looking animals --Cape Buffaloes I think they're called.
He tells me that this trip, he has a 20% chance of being killed. If you shoot the elephant and miss, it will stomp you to death. My money's on the human and his "PH," or professional hunter. They have enormous rifles.
The trip is going to cost him nearly $30,000. I really, really don't get it.
I mean, hunting birds doesn't bother me too much. They don't seem too close to us. But majestic cats, and primates? Elephants? Maybe I was raised on too much Disney.
To each his own, I guess. My roommate thinks my life is without adventure. I have zero desire to go hunting. I used to like to fish, a bit, but that no longer thrils me either.
So --he's off to Africa. That also happens to be a continent I have zero desire to visit, for any reason. Nothing about the place appeals to me.
But if I did go, I'm certain I'd leave the large animals to themselves...
Apparently, the government sells licenses to rich hunters to take out "problem elephants." These are critters that have caused problems to villagers. Otherwise, it seems, you can't just go blast Dumbo.
I certainly don't get it. I've never understood any type of hunting, let alone animals I've always read are social, and gather together when one of their pack? herd? gets injured.
My roommate hunts in Africa once per year. Last year, he shot a lion, and several large apes, as well as a bunch of antelope looking things (I can never keep those antelope-like animals separate in my mind). He's also shot big moose-looking animals --Cape Buffaloes I think they're called.
He tells me that this trip, he has a 20% chance of being killed. If you shoot the elephant and miss, it will stomp you to death. My money's on the human and his "PH," or professional hunter. They have enormous rifles.
The trip is going to cost him nearly $30,000. I really, really don't get it.
I mean, hunting birds doesn't bother me too much. They don't seem too close to us. But majestic cats, and primates? Elephants? Maybe I was raised on too much Disney.
To each his own, I guess. My roommate thinks my life is without adventure. I have zero desire to go hunting. I used to like to fish, a bit, but that no longer thrils me either.
So --he's off to Africa. That also happens to be a continent I have zero desire to visit, for any reason. Nothing about the place appeals to me.
But if I did go, I'm certain I'd leave the large animals to themselves...
Sunday, April 25, 2010
The Day After
Well, the PPPPP turned out to be a smashing success. As expected, the prom goers were like newly bloomed flowers, and they and their dates posed for photos like models in a fashion spread.
Mike and I manned the bar, with Mike cranking out pitchers of his rum drinks, while I mixed the vodkas and poured wine. The parents, dealing with the encroachment of middle age, went through an enormous bottle of Ketel One, and 5 bottles of white wine. (OK, so I had two or 7 vodkas myself).
Many of the parents knew each other since THEY were kids, and enjoyed reliving their high school days as their children were now ready to graduate.
We all gathered in front of the house, as the kids boarded the bus. The driver let out a loud horn peal, and off they went.
I announced that the party would continue, and about 25 of the parents came back inside. My friend and neighbor Pat was there, as were friends Charlie and Diane. Pat introduced me to an Irish whiskey called Middleton years ago, and I always break it our on special occasions. I poured us all a finger or two, and we toasted our nearly grown kids.
There were some tears, and a lot of laughter, and little by little, the parents left the house.
D2 called from the hotel about midnight, and reported all were in high spirits. They intended to watch the sunrise at 6; as I predicted, none of them made it up that early. They did head over to Big Pink for breakfast, and then spent the day on Miami Beach. D2 came home exhausted and a little sunburned.
Meanwhile, in Gainesville, D1 attended a ball as well, with her reunited boyfriend Thomas.
The springtime of the Ds continues; we head to Gainesville next Saturday for our first D's college graduation. We'll gather in Gatorland, and watch D1 get her Bachelor's. Then we have plans at a restaurant in Downtown Gainesville. D2 and I will head back home, as D2 has AP exams next week, while Wifey and D1 will pack up her apartment and follow us a few days later.
Today, Wifey and I cleaned up and napped. We're done with high school events, almost.
One of the dads last night remarked that his son had a much better childhood than he did, and hoped he realized how lucky he was.
I don't know. It seems to me that we all have our demons to slay, and just because one has a bit more money, or a 2 parent childhood, it doesn't equal an easy life.
Some of the Ds friends seem under constant pressure to succeed. The American Dream is that each generation does better than the last. As the curve towards success sharpens, that becomes harder and harder for each generation.
Que sera, sera with this generation.
All I know is, the kids beamed last night, and we were privileged to reflect in their light.
Mike and I manned the bar, with Mike cranking out pitchers of his rum drinks, while I mixed the vodkas and poured wine. The parents, dealing with the encroachment of middle age, went through an enormous bottle of Ketel One, and 5 bottles of white wine. (OK, so I had two or 7 vodkas myself).
Many of the parents knew each other since THEY were kids, and enjoyed reliving their high school days as their children were now ready to graduate.
We all gathered in front of the house, as the kids boarded the bus. The driver let out a loud horn peal, and off they went.
I announced that the party would continue, and about 25 of the parents came back inside. My friend and neighbor Pat was there, as were friends Charlie and Diane. Pat introduced me to an Irish whiskey called Middleton years ago, and I always break it our on special occasions. I poured us all a finger or two, and we toasted our nearly grown kids.
There were some tears, and a lot of laughter, and little by little, the parents left the house.
D2 called from the hotel about midnight, and reported all were in high spirits. They intended to watch the sunrise at 6; as I predicted, none of them made it up that early. They did head over to Big Pink for breakfast, and then spent the day on Miami Beach. D2 came home exhausted and a little sunburned.
Meanwhile, in Gainesville, D1 attended a ball as well, with her reunited boyfriend Thomas.
The springtime of the Ds continues; we head to Gainesville next Saturday for our first D's college graduation. We'll gather in Gatorland, and watch D1 get her Bachelor's. Then we have plans at a restaurant in Downtown Gainesville. D2 and I will head back home, as D2 has AP exams next week, while Wifey and D1 will pack up her apartment and follow us a few days later.
Today, Wifey and I cleaned up and napped. We're done with high school events, almost.
One of the dads last night remarked that his son had a much better childhood than he did, and hoped he realized how lucky he was.
I don't know. It seems to me that we all have our demons to slay, and just because one has a bit more money, or a 2 parent childhood, it doesn't equal an easy life.
Some of the Ds friends seem under constant pressure to succeed. The American Dream is that each generation does better than the last. As the curve towards success sharpens, that becomes harder and harder for each generation.
Que sera, sera with this generation.
All I know is, the kids beamed last night, and we were privileged to reflect in their light.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Palmetto Prom Photo Party
So there's a big alliterative event planned at Villa Wifey tonight. D2 is attending her senior prom, and I offered to host her fellow guests and their parents for a photo party.
I figured she'd be going with a limo or at most Hummer limo worth of kids. It turns out they've hired a party bus, and there'll be 38 of them!
Oh well, the weather is gorgeous, and I bought all the ingredients for my friend Mike's drink idea, the "Blue Panther." The 24 cans of pineapple juice, 8 cans of Coco Lopez, and huge bottles of various rums are lined up on my kitchen counter like soldiers awaiting battle. I just called Mike; he's ready for service.
I've been to several of these pre prom parties over the past several years. If there's a lovlier site than a bunch of high school seniors all dressed up for this milestone, I don't know what it is.
And sure --many of the girls are beautiful, but to me, they're all like my daughters. Young girls never did it for me --I leave that to the creepy old guys. I'm proud to say I can admire them from a higher plane.
Now, if they were 30 year olds all dressed up and hanging around my house...Or better yet -- 50 year old Cougars. Now we're talking!
Wifey's leaving soon to pick up the sandwich platters and other goodies. We've had lots of folks over before, but tonight may be the largest gathering.
We've warned the neighbors about the coming traffic clog. This morning, I told several in person. They all laughed, and started telling tales of their OWN proms, in Maryland, and Pittsburgh, and one tale from Bogota! Who knew?
The party bus will wait for D2 and her posse (she hates it when I try to use Rapper lingo) and take them to a hotel on Miami Beach. Their goal is to be seaside at 6 am tomorrow, to watch the sunrise over the ocean.
Next weekend, we're heading to Gainesville for D1's graduation. The Ds are 18 and 21. I'm old and irrelevant as a father. They've been my true life's work for the past two decades.
What comes next for me?
I figured she'd be going with a limo or at most Hummer limo worth of kids. It turns out they've hired a party bus, and there'll be 38 of them!
Oh well, the weather is gorgeous, and I bought all the ingredients for my friend Mike's drink idea, the "Blue Panther." The 24 cans of pineapple juice, 8 cans of Coco Lopez, and huge bottles of various rums are lined up on my kitchen counter like soldiers awaiting battle. I just called Mike; he's ready for service.
I've been to several of these pre prom parties over the past several years. If there's a lovlier site than a bunch of high school seniors all dressed up for this milestone, I don't know what it is.
And sure --many of the girls are beautiful, but to me, they're all like my daughters. Young girls never did it for me --I leave that to the creepy old guys. I'm proud to say I can admire them from a higher plane.
Now, if they were 30 year olds all dressed up and hanging around my house...Or better yet -- 50 year old Cougars. Now we're talking!
Wifey's leaving soon to pick up the sandwich platters and other goodies. We've had lots of folks over before, but tonight may be the largest gathering.
We've warned the neighbors about the coming traffic clog. This morning, I told several in person. They all laughed, and started telling tales of their OWN proms, in Maryland, and Pittsburgh, and one tale from Bogota! Who knew?
The party bus will wait for D2 and her posse (she hates it when I try to use Rapper lingo) and take them to a hotel on Miami Beach. Their goal is to be seaside at 6 am tomorrow, to watch the sunrise over the ocean.
Next weekend, we're heading to Gainesville for D1's graduation. The Ds are 18 and 21. I'm old and irrelevant as a father. They've been my true life's work for the past two decades.
What comes next for me?
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Time Passages
I've always loved the Al Stewart song, with it's concluding line "Buy me a ticket on the last train home tonight." It evokes images of him at a darkened British Rail station, at the end of a long day (symbolizing his life) awaiting a return to the familiar.
Yesterday D1 called me, to report she was about to enter her final college class. She knows how much I love to mark the milestones in life, and I appreciated her call so much.
Where have those four years gone? I dropped her off at Beatty Towers just yesterday, it seems, as she laughed with her new roommates, and looked forward with so much anticipation, to the coming experience. She's stayed close friends with one of those girls, Chelsea, and the two of them will graduate in 2 weekends.
Chelsea's headed off to NYU for graduate school, while D1 is, thankfully, coming home to FIU graduate studies. I know Chelsea's folks will be in Gainesville next week, beaming with pride (she's the first in her immigrant family to get a university degree) and wondering how the years have flown so fast.
D2 has her senior prom this weekend, another milestone in the passage of time. I volunteered to host the "pre prom party," an event that's sprung up over the last few years. This is D2's THIRD prom, as she was asked to go by friends the past two years, and each of the times Wifey and I were impressed at how lovely these pre prom get togethers were.
D2 informed me that, instead of a limo, her group had hired a 38 passenger party bus! So, somehow the pre prom party has turned into quite the event. We're expecting 50-60 folks, for sandwiches and wings, and drinks for the parents.
My friend Mike has even concocted a special blended cocktail, called the "Blue Panther" (the high school mascot), and I have to go buy the ingredients before Saturday. His daighter Amanda, who is D2's lifelong friend, is headed to USC Film School, in hopes of becoming a movie director.
I know Mike and I will drink our share of his Blue Panthers Saturday evening, and choke back some wistful tears as the party bus drives away into the evening.
Yesterday D1 called me, to report she was about to enter her final college class. She knows how much I love to mark the milestones in life, and I appreciated her call so much.
Where have those four years gone? I dropped her off at Beatty Towers just yesterday, it seems, as she laughed with her new roommates, and looked forward with so much anticipation, to the coming experience. She's stayed close friends with one of those girls, Chelsea, and the two of them will graduate in 2 weekends.
Chelsea's headed off to NYU for graduate school, while D1 is, thankfully, coming home to FIU graduate studies. I know Chelsea's folks will be in Gainesville next week, beaming with pride (she's the first in her immigrant family to get a university degree) and wondering how the years have flown so fast.
D2 has her senior prom this weekend, another milestone in the passage of time. I volunteered to host the "pre prom party," an event that's sprung up over the last few years. This is D2's THIRD prom, as she was asked to go by friends the past two years, and each of the times Wifey and I were impressed at how lovely these pre prom get togethers were.
D2 informed me that, instead of a limo, her group had hired a 38 passenger party bus! So, somehow the pre prom party has turned into quite the event. We're expecting 50-60 folks, for sandwiches and wings, and drinks for the parents.
My friend Mike has even concocted a special blended cocktail, called the "Blue Panther" (the high school mascot), and I have to go buy the ingredients before Saturday. His daighter Amanda, who is D2's lifelong friend, is headed to USC Film School, in hopes of becoming a movie director.
I know Mike and I will drink our share of his Blue Panthers Saturday evening, and choke back some wistful tears as the party bus drives away into the evening.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Succesful Visit
As I write this, my sister Sue is at MIA (assuming Tri Rail was on time) awaiting her flight back to California.
Sue wrote a guide book to hosting a succesful estate sale, and I'm really proud of her. Right now, it's desk top published, but she's hoping to get it sold on a larger scale.
It occurred to me that there's another book my whole family could write: "How to plan and carry our a succesful family visit."
In the 31 years since my parents and I have lived in Florida, Sue has come each year. My sister Trudy moved here 20 years ago, so she hasn't been part of the Florida visit thing for some time.
In the 31 years, some visits have been terrific, others, not so much. This past one was wonderful.
I think I've figured it out. It's completely a matter of duration. Churchill's famous quote about guests, fish, and 3 days is true.
The best family visits are short and sweet.
We caught up, laughed, and shared memories, and it was all over before we annoyed each other.
I think this is particularly true as we age, and become more cranky. My mother is so old, she's reached the point where she wants family visits to last only a few HOURS!
So --this past one was delightful. D2 spent some quality time with her aunt, and we caught up,and celebrated an auspicious occasion --Mom's 90th. There were no arguments, tears, or moroseness.
A lovely family visit...
Sue wrote a guide book to hosting a succesful estate sale, and I'm really proud of her. Right now, it's desk top published, but she's hoping to get it sold on a larger scale.
It occurred to me that there's another book my whole family could write: "How to plan and carry our a succesful family visit."
In the 31 years since my parents and I have lived in Florida, Sue has come each year. My sister Trudy moved here 20 years ago, so she hasn't been part of the Florida visit thing for some time.
In the 31 years, some visits have been terrific, others, not so much. This past one was wonderful.
I think I've figured it out. It's completely a matter of duration. Churchill's famous quote about guests, fish, and 3 days is true.
The best family visits are short and sweet.
We caught up, laughed, and shared memories, and it was all over before we annoyed each other.
I think this is particularly true as we age, and become more cranky. My mother is so old, she's reached the point where she wants family visits to last only a few HOURS!
So --this past one was delightful. D2 spent some quality time with her aunt, and we caught up,and celebrated an auspicious occasion --Mom's 90th. There were no arguments, tears, or moroseness.
A lovely family visit...
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