After Susan's and my walk, I saw Barbara-Next-Door leaving. I wanted to ask Frank to be the announcer in the Beggar show, and she told me to go in. I did, Frank agreed to the role, and offered me a cup of coffee, so we had a nice visit. I was surprised to hear he didn't know Lily had died, as she had been a lector* at St. Theresa's and so is he. When I got home, I sent him the link to the script, as well as to the sound effect film. Sent him separately what Lily's daughter has posted on Facebook.
Went to B.J.'s for oranges and pumpernickel, then to Acme for a lettuce and Brussels sprouts.
Received the temperature gauge I had sent for and, just as I had suspected, the refrig is running too warm, to about 50 degrees. Stopped in at Anchor Appliance for advice and the guy told me to check that the air flow vents from the freezer aren't blocked by items. Looked at the manual and saw I can also turn off, then turn on again--or something--to see if it will remedy itself.
The funny thing is, I haven't had anything spoil lately. I guess the reason is because I usually keep only certain items in the refrig for more than a day or two, mostly vegetables, iced tea, and condiments. I rarely have leftovers, either, so I either buy and cook within a day or two, or take food out of the freezer. A while ago, I bought milk, which I rarely do, and after a few days, it had soured. I was sure it was Acme's fault and was going to take it back, but just threw it out; now I think it probably wasn't. Damn, I hope I don't have to replace the refrig.
Took a drive in the evening; and found myself at the Tuckerton Library just before the 7:00 free movie. Started chatting with a couple there, so sat down to see the most recent "Spiderman" (I never did find out the actual name). Of course, it was full of incredible special effects--trucks flipping over, New York City unelectrified, planes spiraling out of the sky (I could have done without that), and was mildly engaging. However, I got antsy after two hours and ten minutes, and left. Never did find out if the girl came back to life or what ultimately happened to Spidey.
*Now is that a word or not? Idiot SpellCheck disapproves and gives me "rector," "hector," "vector" and more, none of which bear any relationship to somebody who reads the gospel in church--at a lectern.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Monday, September 29, 2014
Lunch and The Shadow
Nice day. Aline and I met Betty and Helen C. for lunch at the Pitney Pub--my suggestion--in Galloway. We're a bit tired of Italian Gourmet, where we've met innumerable times and we were just at the Irish Pub a few weeks ago. Happened to see this driving by after the reunion and wanted to give it a try.
It's a nice, homey, neighborhood tavern, somewhat sketchy when it comes to decor (think vinyl seats and artificial flowers) and maybe not scoured every hour with Lysol, but excellent on the important things: food and wait staff.
I had my favorite lunch, a hamburger close to red inside and oozing grease, and a Blue Moon on draft. Betty ordered an "autumn salad" that included apple slices, nuts, and dried cranberries, and Aline a taco salad with chicken in a huge shell. Don't recall what Helen had, but she quaffed a beer, too.
We parted after a leisurely time and drove off before I noticed the devil himself was in the car. He enticed me into suggesting ice cream for dessert, Aline enthusiastically approved, and we stopped at Jeffreeze for the good stuff.
I had asked Aline to be "a female beggar" in The Shadow play and she was pleased to accept. (I'm casting myself as Apple Mary.) Took her to my place to give her a copy of her pages (she has only three lines, but can be in other shows, too), and we ran over it a few times; she'll be fine.
As honorary grandmother, A. ooh and ahhed over the latest adorable Mr. K. pictures, which I never tire of sharing. Took her home about 5:00 after we made a date for Tuesday.
I sent Steve S. an e-mail, asking him to play Lamont Cranston/The Shadow; hope he accepts. Steve, a Latin teacher at Pinelands Regional was Tony in Tony and the Heiress and recently became a new father--of twins.
It's a nice, homey, neighborhood tavern, somewhat sketchy when it comes to decor (think vinyl seats and artificial flowers) and maybe not scoured every hour with Lysol, but excellent on the important things: food and wait staff.
I had my favorite lunch, a hamburger close to red inside and oozing grease, and a Blue Moon on draft. Betty ordered an "autumn salad" that included apple slices, nuts, and dried cranberries, and Aline a taco salad with chicken in a huge shell. Don't recall what Helen had, but she quaffed a beer, too.
We parted after a leisurely time and drove off before I noticed the devil himself was in the car. He enticed me into suggesting ice cream for dessert, Aline enthusiastically approved, and we stopped at Jeffreeze for the good stuff.
I had asked Aline to be "a female beggar" in The Shadow play and she was pleased to accept. (I'm casting myself as Apple Mary.) Took her to my place to give her a copy of her pages (she has only three lines, but can be in other shows, too), and we ran over it a few times; she'll be fine.
As honorary grandmother, A. ooh and ahhed over the latest adorable Mr. K. pictures, which I never tire of sharing. Took her home about 5:00 after we made a date for Tuesday.
I sent Steve S. an e-mail, asking him to play Lamont Cranston/The Shadow; hope he accepts. Steve, a Latin teacher at Pinelands Regional was Tony in Tony and the Heiress and recently became a new father--of twins.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Reunion
I had been meaning to get my nails done and thought I might as well for the reunion. Did so, in a bright, sort of primrosy color.
Didn't leave until 1:00, which is when I was told mass would be conducted. Since I'm not religious, I thought it would be hypocritical to go through the motions; besides, I find it boring.
Good grief, when I got to Smithville, I saw hordes and hundreds, throngs and thousands of people--they were having their annual Italian Festival! Maybe those on the committee should have thought to ask if anything else was going on--Smithville is famous for one "festival" after another, but oh, no, why make it easy for people?
I didn't even try to get in the small parking lot on the grounds; the huge one across the street was filled and so was one further down. I finally parked on the very busy side road, hoping I wouldn't get a ticket. This was roughly a half-mile--I'm not exaggerating--from the inn and it was probably at least eighty degrees. Trudged through mobs of people, about half children.
Now I enjoy seeing kiddies have a good time, but why in the hell do whole herds of dogs have to come, too? Every size and breed seemed to be present; maybe they enjoy the Chianti?
Reached the inn and got to the room. It was set up with four tables of eight, everybody was seated, and the priest was right in the middle of mass. Annoyingly, it must have started late. Betty had saved me a seat and I sat through the rest of it.
Finally, it was over and I was able to circulate a bit. Greeted with hugs and air kisses, Jeanne P., and her boyfriend, John, whom I had met in Atlantic City a few years ago. I said I remembered him because he was a big stud, which tickled them pink. (John is 85.) Jeanne, pretty as ever--well, close--was certainly the most attractive woman in the room.
Sally Lange N., the eternal cheerleader and bossy know-it-all, told us not to leave the room to get a drink until the waitress took our orders. Jeanne and I defied her and went to the bar, where she got a fifteen-dollar glass of red wine and treated me to a dark Irish beer.
It was nice to see Pat Mooney, Barbara Cavalli, and John and Theresa Garrity, a couple who always seem sad and pathetic to me, although I don't know why. Talked to Teddy and Al G., Betty D., and a few others, but really, the whole thing was a bit of a bore. Joe Magosin and wife sat at our table, as did Pat Dwyer, and Toni Rich. The Wimbergs were supposed to come, but didn't.
The food was mediocre--they almost always are at these affairs--and the service unenthusiastic. Of course, the whole building was jammed, every single room filled with lunchers or drinkers, or whatevers, the bar crowded, festival goers outside and in--no wonder the wait staff was harried.
After, John made a pitch for donating to Holy Spirit, our alma mater, such as it is, and gave out HS magazines. It's now been fifty years since the school moved to Absecon and, of course, it bears no resemblance to the place in the inlet we attended so long ago.
Those who went there do, though; I wonder if one ever escapes teenhood. Yesterday's attendees looked ancient, but in a profound way, many don't seem to have changed. They're still stuck in the fifties, adhering to conservative political--and especially, reverent Catholic-- ways. That's not necessarily a bad thing--diff'rent strokes and all that--but it's not for me. After years of servitude to what I had been taught to believe, I broke away and can cry, "free at last, free at last, thank my own heart rebellious, I'm free at last!"
Aagh! Good grief, Mimi--you have some nerve comparing your minor little deviation from the norm to MLK's historic declaration! So moving right along...
Betty called when I got home and we made a date to go to lunch today; I'll take Aline and she'll bring Helen. I suggested we try the Pitney Tavern, and we'll meet there.
Got a Skype call from my Ellen and, as ever, had a good chat. We discussed my move to the land of the locusts, in particular how I'd get there ("drive!", she sez; "NO!" sez I) and where I'll live when I do.
Popped my popcorn, poured my wine, watched a half hour on the telly, then went to bed and slept the sleep of the just.
Didn't leave until 1:00, which is when I was told mass would be conducted. Since I'm not religious, I thought it would be hypocritical to go through the motions; besides, I find it boring.
Good grief, when I got to Smithville, I saw hordes and hundreds, throngs and thousands of people--they were having their annual Italian Festival! Maybe those on the committee should have thought to ask if anything else was going on--Smithville is famous for one "festival" after another, but oh, no, why make it easy for people?
I didn't even try to get in the small parking lot on the grounds; the huge one across the street was filled and so was one further down. I finally parked on the very busy side road, hoping I wouldn't get a ticket. This was roughly a half-mile--I'm not exaggerating--from the inn and it was probably at least eighty degrees. Trudged through mobs of people, about half children.
Now I enjoy seeing kiddies have a good time, but why in the hell do whole herds of dogs have to come, too? Every size and breed seemed to be present; maybe they enjoy the Chianti?
Reached the inn and got to the room. It was set up with four tables of eight, everybody was seated, and the priest was right in the middle of mass. Annoyingly, it must have started late. Betty had saved me a seat and I sat through the rest of it.
Finally, it was over and I was able to circulate a bit. Greeted with hugs and air kisses, Jeanne P., and her boyfriend, John, whom I had met in Atlantic City a few years ago. I said I remembered him because he was a big stud, which tickled them pink. (John is 85.) Jeanne, pretty as ever--well, close--was certainly the most attractive woman in the room.
Sally Lange N., the eternal cheerleader and bossy know-it-all, told us not to leave the room to get a drink until the waitress took our orders. Jeanne and I defied her and went to the bar, where she got a fifteen-dollar glass of red wine and treated me to a dark Irish beer.
It was nice to see Pat Mooney, Barbara Cavalli, and John and Theresa Garrity, a couple who always seem sad and pathetic to me, although I don't know why. Talked to Teddy and Al G., Betty D., and a few others, but really, the whole thing was a bit of a bore. Joe Magosin and wife sat at our table, as did Pat Dwyer, and Toni Rich. The Wimbergs were supposed to come, but didn't.
The food was mediocre--they almost always are at these affairs--and the service unenthusiastic. Of course, the whole building was jammed, every single room filled with lunchers or drinkers, or whatevers, the bar crowded, festival goers outside and in--no wonder the wait staff was harried.
After, John made a pitch for donating to Holy Spirit, our alma mater, such as it is, and gave out HS magazines. It's now been fifty years since the school moved to Absecon and, of course, it bears no resemblance to the place in the inlet we attended so long ago.
Those who went there do, though; I wonder if one ever escapes teenhood. Yesterday's attendees looked ancient, but in a profound way, many don't seem to have changed. They're still stuck in the fifties, adhering to conservative political--and especially, reverent Catholic-- ways. That's not necessarily a bad thing--diff'rent strokes and all that--but it's not for me. After years of servitude to what I had been taught to believe, I broke away and can cry, "free at last, free at last, thank my own heart rebellious, I'm free at last!"
Aagh! Good grief, Mimi--you have some nerve comparing your minor little deviation from the norm to MLK's historic declaration! So moving right along...
Betty called when I got home and we made a date to go to lunch today; I'll take Aline and she'll bring Helen. I suggested we try the Pitney Tavern, and we'll meet there.
Got a Skype call from my Ellen and, as ever, had a good chat. We discussed my move to the land of the locusts, in particular how I'd get there ("drive!", she sez; "NO!" sez I) and where I'll live when I do.
Popped my popcorn, poured my wine, watched a half hour on the telly, then went to bed and slept the sleep of the just.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Hair
As it turns out, Lily isn't having a funeral. She donated her body to science and her daughter wrote that they'll have a memorial service later. I realize viewings and funerals and their trappings are archaic and contrived--the deceased isn't "there" in any sense of the word--yet I'm somewhat disappointed. That psycho-babble word, "closure" seems to fit here: There seems a feeling of rightness in the old rituals when you figuratively "say goodbye"--at least, there is for me.
My friend came at lunchtime to deliver several tomatoes (good--I was out), Swiss chard, kale, lettuce, eggplant, squash, and a big, beautiful pumpkin, which she put outside for me. We had lunch together, then back to work she went.
Hopped in the shower and went to get my hair done, an ordeal I sometimes think of discontinuing in favor of natural color. (Then I take a gander at my roots and change my mind.) Kyle did an okay job--it looks a lot better than it did, anyway--but I find it an ordeal to sit through all the stuff, not to mention parting with the amount of cash it takes.
It's funny: Lots of women love going to the salon; it's like a cozy, convivial little sorority. But I've always been somewhat uncomfortable there. I have to make small talk with a girl younger than my grandson, in whom I have little interest and she has to pretend she cares a rat's brass about me. Ordinarily, I mildly enjoy chatting idly with strangers, but not in that situation--guess it's the forced togetherness or something.
Stopped at Kohl's, then Target after, but bought nothing except some under-eye concealer. I'm sure that will make me look like the high school senior I was sixty years and three months ago.
My friend came at lunchtime to deliver several tomatoes (good--I was out), Swiss chard, kale, lettuce, eggplant, squash, and a big, beautiful pumpkin, which she put outside for me. We had lunch together, then back to work she went.
Hopped in the shower and went to get my hair done, an ordeal I sometimes think of discontinuing in favor of natural color. (Then I take a gander at my roots and change my mind.) Kyle did an okay job--it looks a lot better than it did, anyway--but I find it an ordeal to sit through all the stuff, not to mention parting with the amount of cash it takes.
It's funny: Lots of women love going to the salon; it's like a cozy, convivial little sorority. But I've always been somewhat uncomfortable there. I have to make small talk with a girl younger than my grandson, in whom I have little interest and she has to pretend she cares a rat's brass about me. Ordinarily, I mildly enjoy chatting idly with strangers, but not in that situation--guess it's the forced togetherness or something.
Stopped at Kohl's, then Target after, but bought nothing except some under-eye concealer. I'm sure that will make me look like the high school senior I was sixty years and three months ago.
Friday, September 26, 2014
Rain, "The Shadow," and Big Red Soldiers
We walked in the pouring rain, and me without a raincoat. Got soaked from the waist down, plus both jacket sleeves, but no prob, I just changed when I got home.
I was so sorry to read on Facebook that Lily McBeth has died. She didn't have an easy life in later years, but she faced what she faced very courageously. I called Elva B. with the news.
Aline called early and we discussed the possible upcoming show in November. I had alerted her that I was invited to a meeting last night (she wasn't), but I think that was because I have a possible addition to the show: The Shadow radio program. As it turned out, she was working from 4 to 9, so she couldn't have come, anyway.
Spent a lot of time on the aforementioned, also on Grey's novel, which I continue to like a lot. I had a few suggestions, but minor ones, aside from a character (a ten-year-old) whose mannerisms don't ring true.
Betty called and we discussed the upcoming reunion and a few other things.
The meeting at the Henry's was at 6:00--I assume because Jim had an early call--and just the two of them, Desi, and I were there at first; Tonya came later. We had a fine time discussing and shaping up the November production (while sipping Merlot, of course). It's going to consist of four old time "radio shows," including my Shadow selection and yes, I agreed to direct.
Jim came up with the excellent idea of a warm-up person, and he's perfect for that. We haven't yet named the show, but titles like "The Golden Days of Radio," "When Radio Was Big," and my contribution, "Remembering Radio...," were discussed. We decided to hold an open call next week and invite starlets, star-guys, and starry-eyed hopefuls (gawd, Mimi!) to come and try out for parts. I've already asked Desi to be an Irish cop and I'd like Frank Next-Door to be the announcer. Hope I can get Steve Shaffer to play Lamont Cranston and The Shadow himself.
Got home to a message from Carole Wimberg C. Called her back and we had nice, but sorrowful chat about Lily's death, whose funeral she thinks brother George will conduct. I invited Carole to come to our reunion tomorrow and she may.
WIDER: Check out this quote: http://www.army.mil/article/134543/1st_Infantry_Division_HQ_deploying_to_Iraq/
"As brave, responsible and on-point Soldiers in the 'Big Red One,' we stand ready to deploy anywhere in the world to protect the United States of America, her citizens and her allies," (Major Gen. Paul E.) Funk said in a statement today posted on the Fort Riley webpage. "We are ready for anything because we know we have the nation behind us."
Oh, don't bet on it, you bloodthirsty horse's ass.
I was so sorry to read on Facebook that Lily McBeth has died. She didn't have an easy life in later years, but she faced what she faced very courageously. I called Elva B. with the news.
Aline called early and we discussed the possible upcoming show in November. I had alerted her that I was invited to a meeting last night (she wasn't), but I think that was because I have a possible addition to the show: The Shadow radio program. As it turned out, she was working from 4 to 9, so she couldn't have come, anyway.
Spent a lot of time on the aforementioned, also on Grey's novel, which I continue to like a lot. I had a few suggestions, but minor ones, aside from a character (a ten-year-old) whose mannerisms don't ring true.
Betty called and we discussed the upcoming reunion and a few other things.
The meeting at the Henry's was at 6:00--I assume because Jim had an early call--and just the two of them, Desi, and I were there at first; Tonya came later. We had a fine time discussing and shaping up the November production (while sipping Merlot, of course). It's going to consist of four old time "radio shows," including my Shadow selection and yes, I agreed to direct.
Jim came up with the excellent idea of a warm-up person, and he's perfect for that. We haven't yet named the show, but titles like "The Golden Days of Radio," "When Radio Was Big," and my contribution, "Remembering Radio...," were discussed. We decided to hold an open call next week and invite starlets, star-guys, and starry-eyed hopefuls (gawd, Mimi!) to come and try out for parts. I've already asked Desi to be an Irish cop and I'd like Frank Next-Door to be the announcer. Hope I can get Steve Shaffer to play Lamont Cranston and The Shadow himself.
Got home to a message from Carole Wimberg C. Called her back and we had nice, but sorrowful chat about Lily's death, whose funeral she thinks brother George will conduct. I invited Carole to come to our reunion tomorrow and she may.
WIDER: Check out this quote: http://www.army.mil/article/134543/1st_Infantry_Division_HQ_deploying_to_Iraq/
"As brave, responsible and on-point Soldiers in the 'Big Red One,' we stand ready to deploy anywhere in the world to protect the United States of America, her citizens and her allies," (Major Gen. Paul E.) Funk said in a statement today posted on the Fort Riley webpage. "We are ready for anything because we know we have the nation behind us."
Oh, don't bet on it, you bloodthirsty horse's ass.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
The Blind Beggar Dies And So Did Doris Howell
In preparation for the meeting tonight, I spent a lot of time going over The Blind Beggar Dies.* Printed it out, then copied lines for various characters so I can get a better feel for it. Still not sure if I want to direct or not.
Washed and cut up the tomatoes from last week, sliced onions, and diced garlic and put all to simmering in the slow cooker. Later, I added meatballs and had some with salad for lunch. Had leftover similar "stew," but with sweet red peppers, browned turkey meat and added it, and had that for dinner. (I'm getting in a rut.)
Changed about 3:00 to go to the viewing for Doris H. She died a few days ago of emphysema and complications; nice lady, and after Pat died, I gave her some of his things she could use. We weren't particularly close friends, but I still--as always--feel a sense of loss when someone I know dies. Lots of Sunrise Bayers there, of course, and I stayed about an hour to visit and chat. Stopped at the post office after to send off the old pictures to Joan H.
I called Linda K., of Rider HR, to ask if Shirley T., my old boss, still worked there. I was surprised to hear she had retired a year or so ago--no party and I'm not sure why. Was told she still lives in the same place, so will return that 32-year-old check to her. Called back the insurance rep., Anne R., and set up a time for her to come and explain the new--and I'm sure, much worse--dictates of the monster that controls our lives.
Called Diane C., who lives next door to Susan and Aline to ask if I could bring my flea market wares to her place when that community has its annual flea market. (S. and A. will be out of time.) Unfortunately, I found that it's this weekend, so I would only be able to go on Sunday. Not worth it, and I won't bother.
* Talk about your spoilers! This is the title, for pity's sake!
Washed and cut up the tomatoes from last week, sliced onions, and diced garlic and put all to simmering in the slow cooker. Later, I added meatballs and had some with salad for lunch. Had leftover similar "stew," but with sweet red peppers, browned turkey meat and added it, and had that for dinner. (I'm getting in a rut.)
Changed about 3:00 to go to the viewing for Doris H. She died a few days ago of emphysema and complications; nice lady, and after Pat died, I gave her some of his things she could use. We weren't particularly close friends, but I still--as always--feel a sense of loss when someone I know dies. Lots of Sunrise Bayers there, of course, and I stayed about an hour to visit and chat. Stopped at the post office after to send off the old pictures to Joan H.
I called Linda K., of Rider HR, to ask if Shirley T., my old boss, still worked there. I was surprised to hear she had retired a year or so ago--no party and I'm not sure why. Was told she still lives in the same place, so will return that 32-year-old check to her. Called back the insurance rep., Anne R., and set up a time for her to come and explain the new--and I'm sure, much worse--dictates of the monster that controls our lives.
Called Diane C., who lives next door to Susan and Aline to ask if I could bring my flea market wares to her place when that community has its annual flea market. (S. and A. will be out of time.) Unfortunately, I found that it's this weekend, so I would only be able to go on Sunday. Not worth it, and I won't bother.
* Talk about your spoilers! This is the title, for pity's sake!
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
This And All That
My usual Tuesday with my pal--low-key, but pleasant.
Aline had a meeting until noon, so I met her when she got off the bus from Manahawkin. I suggested we lunch at the Mystic Island Casino (actually a neighborhood bar and restaurant), which is right next door. Sure thing, said she, and we went there. I had a crab cake sandwich and a cold Bud and it was very good.
We enjoyed our usual heartfelt talk; I was so sorry to hear that Aline's little niece's dog had to be put down. I'm not an animal person, but highly sympathize with those who are. Aline cried and, in solidarity, so did I, as she talked about "Mickey," a lab mix, who was fourteen years old.
After, we drove down to Graveling Point, as we often do to be rejuvenated by the sight of water. Dropped Aline at home, as she had to prepare for rehearsal at 6:00. Julie S., who has a small speaking part, was to pick her up in Manahawkin, then they'd continue on to to LBI. I'm glad I withdrew from the show--just standing around in a party scene isn't worth the long trip to the island and I'm not that "into" those who run Our Gang Players, anyway.
Late in the day, drove to Manahawkin to pick up a few items. I was glad to see--or hear--the engine seems to be doing all right.
Just got a message from Desi, saying we'll meet at the Henry's tomorrow night about our show in November. Replied I'd be there, of course, and I'll bring the script for The Shadow.
Aline had a meeting until noon, so I met her when she got off the bus from Manahawkin. I suggested we lunch at the Mystic Island Casino (actually a neighborhood bar and restaurant), which is right next door. Sure thing, said she, and we went there. I had a crab cake sandwich and a cold Bud and it was very good.
We enjoyed our usual heartfelt talk; I was so sorry to hear that Aline's little niece's dog had to be put down. I'm not an animal person, but highly sympathize with those who are. Aline cried and, in solidarity, so did I, as she talked about "Mickey," a lab mix, who was fourteen years old.
After, we drove down to Graveling Point, as we often do to be rejuvenated by the sight of water. Dropped Aline at home, as she had to prepare for rehearsal at 6:00. Julie S., who has a small speaking part, was to pick her up in Manahawkin, then they'd continue on to to LBI. I'm glad I withdrew from the show--just standing around in a party scene isn't worth the long trip to the island and I'm not that "into" those who run Our Gang Players, anyway.
Late in the day, drove to Manahawkin to pick up a few items. I was glad to see--or hear--the engine seems to be doing all right.
Just got a message from Desi, saying we'll meet at the Henry's tomorrow night about our show in November. Replied I'd be there, of course, and I'll bring the script for The Shadow.
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