Met sister Betty at Santori's and we stocked up on our veggies. We then took a melancholy trip to the cemetery. Other than that, it was a day like any other day--they're beginning to all seem the same. Guess that means I'm in a rut, but how do I get out of it?
Haven't heard yet if I got the part in "Hedda Gabler," but saw on Facebook Andrea was picked for the title role. I thought she, Tara, and Lucille were all good at the reading.
Wider: I was confused for a minute when I read that Michael Jackson's "memorial" will be held at "the Staples Center." Wha? A ceremony at an office supply store? Then it dawned: This, of course, is another in a long list of sell-outs to corporate America. Presumably, Staples paid a coupla mil to L.A. so now sports fans and others have to say their name every time they refer to the stadium. Same as what used to be Veterans' Stadium in Philly, and Shea, and, I guess, practically every other large gathering place in the country. It's not quite as disgusting as pushing fast food in elementary school,* but it's close.
The fact that a man--well, a person--who was almost surely a drug addict and a pedophile will be the object of sloppily expressed adulation is now just routine. Hey, at least, Jackson may not have been quite as revolting as the recently dead McNamara. Good 'ol boy Robert Strange will be praised to the skies by statesmen and dignitaries, all dressed in dark suits so the rivers of blood that flow around them doesn't show.
* Of course, this particular rape of innocence is now routine. If you question it, you're greeted with indignation at worst and puzzled faces at best: "But they gave the school new laptops and a copy machine."
Later: As it turned out, I didn't get the role in "Hedda Gabler." I'm slightly disappointed, but not terribly so. Will try for something else the next time. Am still involved with the murder mystery group.

Lent my car to the K's, who have a houseful of company from Massachusetts; their car broke down on the way and was left at Pep Boys in North Jersey somewhere. Judy and Roman have only one themselves so I offered and was glad to help out. As these things happen, grandson Joel asked if I'd drive him home to get the extra key for his motorcycle. He lost his after a barbecue on the fourth at Redmen's Hall in Tuckerton. Finally, his friend picked him up and brought the other key, but we enjoyed his visit.
Had another visit after dinner from little Brooke and her Mommy. Brooke is so cute--has black, curly hair, big dark eyes, and weighs only seven pounds. Yes, a miniature poodle. I, who fervently believe a good dog is a stuffed dog, have said that if I should ever be so misguided (or drunk, or rendered insane) to get one, I'd want it to be like Brooke.
Had a nice talk and look-see with Ellen and A. called, back from their vacation. Oddly enough, it was a pleasant day.

Had a great time at the H.'s party yesterday. I went over about 5:00, was happy to be greeted with enthusiastic hugs, and sat down immediately with a Corona and lime. The food was terrific--I'm afraid I over indulged to the extent of about 6,000,000,000 calories--and the company even better. After an hour, I filled a platter for Pat (ribs, potato salad, baked beans, and several sides) and brought it two doors down to him. I then went back and got my own dinner. Besides the above, there were lots of other goodies, of course, and I was diligent about enjoying most of them. Went home again to bring Pat a big portion of delectable apple cake, then back to have myself a mound of the wonderful trifle Susan had made.
Sounds as if the eating part was paramount, doesn't it? But no--I enjoyed most being at a party. I've been sticking close to home for a long time now and oh, how I miss the laughter and the fun in being with so many good friends. Anyway, I left about 7:00, happily refreshed and passed the rest of the evening quietly with Pat.

Went to Staples early and had the script bound into a "lie flat" spiral book. This is a terrific service and it cost me only $3.20.
I again viewed the 1963 T.V. version of "Hedda Gabler" on YouTube. Ingrid Bergman and the others are so good, although it's the third translation I've found.
Got a very welcome cam call from the Singapore contingent. Son Mike is recovering from a hernia operation and adorable granddaughters are adorable as ever. Vivian, soon to be five, showed me lots of things, including a toe ring, for heaven's sake. (Next it'll be tattoos.) Little Violet, one next week, was cooing and laughing and precious as ever.
Frank D. stopped in for a few minutes last night to tell Pat the Mets were losing (again!) to the Phillies, which cheered us considerably, but left Frank in the deepest despair. (A joke; he's not that superficial.)
Wider: Today is the fourth of July. I have such conflicted feelings about this holiday. On the one hand, I love my family and the people in my neighborhood and I feel a kind of diffused warmth for compatriots in general. I speak no other languages and have never lived anywhere except New Jersey. I'm as stirred as anyone with "patriotic" music and fireworks and I think I'm luckier than some to have been born an American.
And yet...I believe it's blind patriotism that has people parroting the "this is the best country in the world" tripe. That's the king of cliches, it seems to me, utterly mindless and almost indistinguishable from nationalism. And that's what allows otherwise good and gentle people to accept the horrors we've unleashed on the world.
I subscribe to The New Yorker and am reading an investigative article on a U.S. platoon in Iraq that seems to be overly enthusiastic--or something--with killing "the enemy" instead of taking prisoners. (No fear that there'll be a groundswell of revulsion against this. You'll never, in a million years, see an indepth report on network T.V. where the majority of the populace seems to get its information.)
The whole thing is surreal when you consider that some killing is supposed to be perfectly okay, even laudable. Combatants get medals if they kill in the approved or "legal" ways, but are punished if they--oops!--decide to murder their adversaries otherwise. It's absolute insanity and when we display the red, white, and blue, we indicate our support for the madness.
Hey, everybody knows what the red stands for.

Saw Betty off to Toms River, then got to B.J.'s early and stocked up on popcorn, cottage cheese, and the usual. Found "Hedda Gabler" on-line and printed out the whole 163 pages of the original English translation, the one we'll be following. Betty called to say she's home and she found the library book I carelessly left at her place.
Otherwise, did a lot of laundry and not much else. Actually took a short nap on the couch--unusual for me--but had not a bad day. I'm up out of my slump and feeling a lot better.
Wider: Rob Payne, in "Dead Horse," has a strong and sensible entry today (commonplace for him). Here's his opening:
"It seems to me that when people become embroiled in Democrat vs. Republican arguments all the participants in said argument have succumbed to that age old temptation to argue about the wrong thing. It is as pointless as arguing which is better – vanilla ice-cream or chocolate. They taste a little different but they’re essentially identical, they are both ice-cream."
Read the rest at http://deadhorse1995.blogspot.com/

Betty and Suzanne arrived on schedule and we had a nice lunch. I served the delicious ham Mike had sent, plus green salad, chicken salad, baked onions, crystal pickles, corn relish, iced tea, with rolls and pumpernickel bread. Topped it off with the scrumptious blueberry buckle I had just made and if I say it myself, it wasn't half bad.
After Suzanne left, Betty and I had a good time together, talking on the porch and so on. Had to leave after dinner for my audition, but got home before 9:00, after which we viewed some of the "one-minute cinema" pieces while enjoying my popcorn and wine.
Audition went well, although Desi won't announce his choices for another week.
Betty will go back to her house in Ventnor (Pat's lending her his car), but will be there for the whole month so we'll get together often--yay!

Decided not to go to Mary Ellen's after all. It's all the way at the end of Long Beach Island and I just didn't want to be that far. I haven't worked much on my own script, which needs extensive re-writing, but will try to get back to that. Aside from our morning walk and going out to get Pat more Hershey Bars, I stayed around home.
Betty called once from Vegas and once from Suzanne's. They'll be here today about 1:30 for lunch, then Betty will stay over.