It was fun to see the show "Calendar Girls," last night, with senior citizen ladies hoofing away in and out of unison. The oldest, I understand, is 86. It kind of reminded me of what I read somewhere; can't remember the exact quote, but here's a paraphrase: "It was like seeing a pig ice-skating. The wonder wasn't that it was done well, but that it was done at all."
Saw a lot of people I hadn't since the funeral or before and felt ambiguous about the attention and expressions of condolence. In a way it made me feel warm and cared-about, but also somewhat isolated and "different." When I got home, I had a message from Barb D., inviting me to breakfast this morning. Of course, I accepted, but will be very, very careful about what I order. I'm expecting my acting class mates over at 2:00 and we'll start going over our scene from "Patio/Porch."
Wider: The show last night ended with the ensemble singing "Let There Be Peace On Earth." I wonder what, if anything, that actually means to those who sing it. Do they still consider themselves "patriotic?" Do they swell with pride at the sight of Old Glory whipping in the breeze? Do any of them think, say, of the recent NATO air strike in Afghanistan? Chris Floyd did yesterday in his blog "Empire Burlesque." He includes a cheery little quote from one of the villagers, a father, after he and his neighbors found it difficult to identify their incinerated loved ones: "I took some flesh home and called it my son."
Let there be carnage on earth.