Friday, September 25, 2015

Cleaning the Bathroom and CSU

A varied and interesting day. Cleaned my bathroom and the kitchen--well, that's not interesting, but the fact that those two chores took less than an hour is a marvel to me. Finally called a woman from Beach Cities Newcomers and Neighbors and asked to sit on on her group. This is "Living in the Moment," which may or not be one of those cockamamie "soulful" gatherings--spiritual without the religion and rambling talk without the intelligence. The leader was cordial enough and invited me to come when they meet on the first Monday in October; I'll check it out.
On the Meetup page, I queried Vera, the young woman with the widow/er group, and asked if any--uh, "mature" adults were members. She replied that at least half were over sixty. Maybe sounds good and I'll join in their next lunch meeting at a restaurant on Main Street. To top it off, I called CSU* Channel Islands to ask how I can propose teaching a course there. "Donna," a very pleasant and friendly woman advised me to go into the web site and see the steps to submitting a proposal for teaching. I did so and was pleased to see this is for an outreach program similar to FELS at Stockton, that is, for older people. I'll submit my "Acting for Everyone" information and hope to start with the January session.
On a roll, I decided to take a dry run to the Santa Paula Theater Center because I intend to go to their Sunday matinee, Nora. This is an adaptation by Ingmar Bergman of Ibsen's "A Doll's House," and since I performed in his Hedda Gabbler not long ago, I want to see it. I also know that this group does one-act shows and I'll try to want to interest them in staging one or more of mine. Took the Freeway--I'm getting brave!--the twenty minutes or so to Santa Paula and found the place. I'm looking forward to going tomorrow.
I pulled over when my cell rang; in was Betty returning my call and we talked for a time. She's feeling very low, what with the accident and the fact that she'll no longer has a car. Hope her friends pull through for her.
Stopped at my favorite thrift store and bought a large square basket to put rolled-up towels in for the guest bath. Before I headed home, I drove down Main Street and easily found the restaurant--Yolanda's--where the widowed group meets. I'm looking forward to that outing.
On my way home, I took Telegraph Road, kind of a twin of, and parallel to, Telephone. I happened to see a high-rise building called Ventura Townehomes and decided to stop in to ask if I could see a model apartment. After I got out of the car and approached, I heard music. A young woman was singing, backed by a trio--piano, trumpet, and bass--and the large, sunny lobby, doors thrown open, was filled with older people, They were seated here and there informally, many with walkers or canes. This was clearly an assisted living facility and I was about to leave when I noticed a table with a wine and cheese spread on it. I sat down. An employee came over and asked if I'd like some wine. Well...okay, sure. So I sat there for 45 minutes or so, listening to the old-time songs and drinking my Chardonnay.
Something in me wanted to stay forever and be taken care of, but I resisted and left when the entertainers took a break. But it was such an enjoyable interlude. I think it points up how, if you're open to what comes along, and you like it, and want to be part of it, there's no reason to think you won't be welcome. I was an interloper, but it was obvious nobody had a problem with that.
If I had wanted to, I probably could have wangled dinner.
*California State University

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