Well, that was really just remarkably cool. This whole singing at Carnegie Hall thing = COOL! And I'm really not sure if I can do it justice, but I will try my best.
Saturday morning was our dress rehearsal in Carnegie Hall. Our call time was 9 am. I took the subway from Aunt Grace's, and while I'm usually extremely good with getting around in NYC, when I came up from the subway I got all turned around, and couldn't figure out which direction to go. I stopped and actually asked some guys at an outdoor cafe "How do you get to Carnegie Hall?" They managed to resist the standard "practice, practice, practice" response, and simply pointed across the street, where it was, albeit covered with scaffolding, the reason I didn't recognize it.
For some reason (possibly because I am a poor listener), I thought that I had been told that the Stage Door entrance was on 47th Street, when in fact it is on 46th Street, which caused me to wander aimlessly around Carnegie Hall for about 15 minutes, searching for the backstage area, until I finally opened a random door and stumbled upon this...
Whoa!
...where I stood for a bit, oogling, until one of the orchestra members tuning up on stage asked me "What are you looking for lady?" and politely showed me how to get backstage.
I found the backstage area at Carnegie Hall to be extremely thought-provoking. I kept touching the wood on the handrail in the stairwell, thinking about what great musicians had passed this very way, and touched this very piece of wood. When we took the stage for our rehearsal, the first thing that my friend Lynn and I noticed was that the wall behind us could use a good dusting - but the second thing I thought of was which great artists had been on that stage before me. There truly is a hallowed vibe about the place.
Here I am with my friend Gwen, after I finally located the Stage Door on the way out...
Notice that we are both wearing coats and scarves - it was stinking FREEZING and RAINY.
Oh, by the way, after rehearsal, Gwen and I went to Carnegie Deli and stuffed ourselves silly...
Last dregs of a corned beef sandwich which started out as big as my head. I'm serious.
When we returned that night for the performance, I was a bit concerned about the behavior of the high school choirs which were singing with us. They were all completely hyped up and out of control and...well, high school students. But our fearless choral director, Joe, came in and gave us a truly inspired and inspiring talk, in which he reminded us of the profound nature of the fact that we were performing a requiem on Memorial Day weekend, and asked us each to think of someone we've lost, or of the people who have fought and died for our country, to make the performance of a requiem personal and profound. And damn, if it didn't work. Those kids focused like laser beams.
Since I was the third tallest woman in the chorus, I was the third choral member to step on the stage for our performance, and thus I had a very long time to stand there and take in the view. I remember standing there thinking that I should try to soak in as much about this moment as I could, but mostly I was worried that I looked fat and that my hair was too frumpy.
Here we are! If you squint really hard, you can see me - the third from the right on the top row!
But once we began, all vain thoughts flew out the window and I just sang. And I really think we did well. Everyone on that stage was focused like a laser beam on their music and on Joe's conducting. And he was deeply emotional, I think he actually teared up during the "Lacrimosa", and he thoroughly expressed it through his body - he's a wonderful conductor.
The 45-minute piece felt like it lasted 10 minutes. I achieved goose bumps a few times, and only had one hot flash - during the "Kyrie", which is as good a place as any for a hot flash. It was thrilling, it was. But as with all thrilling and much anticipated events in life, it was over too quickly, and now I feel like I didn't savor it enough, though I'm not sure what I could have done to be more present and more conscious. I feel this way about most huge events in my life - I am so aware of how "important" it is and how much I need to fully experience the event, that I forget to fully experience the event. Sigh...
Carnegie Hall update thus far...in bullet points...
Flew American Airlines for the first time in years. We had about a billion frequent flyer miles saved up, and thought I should use them. Okay, a billion is an exaggeration, but it was a bunch. I now remember why we haven't flown American in so long. CROWDED. NO LEG ROOM. NO TV. It was, however, FREE, so I really shouldn't complain. But I will. I had a terrible seat right across from the bathroom. Nasty. You know, I just don't understand the kind of person who goes into a airplane bathroom and takes a giant poo, so everybody has to breath it. Who can do that, anyway? I mean, I'm a little shit shy, but seriously, who does that?
Got to JFK late Wednesday afternoon, and Aunt Grace very graciously sent "a car" to pick me up at the airport, so I didn't have to hoof it or take a bus. So yes, there was a dude in a black suit standing there with my name on a sign, which is something that never gets old, no matter how many times it happens to you.
View from Aunt Grace's terrace. Yes, you may be jealous.
Thursday morning was our first rehearsal of Mozart's Requiem with the full chorus - 200 SINGERS. We all gathered in a ballroom at the NY Hilton, which was, in fact, the very place where I attended BlogHer a couple of years ago (ah, memories!). This ballroom was a great place for a blogger convention, but a lousy place to rehearse choral music, as the acoustics are dreadful. But even then as soon as we all started singing together, it was AMAZING. Such powerful music.
The heavens opened up and DRENCHED the city. Crazy rain. You know, I've been coming to New York once or twice a year for the past 20 years, and I NEVER remember the rain. We Los Angelenos forget that it rains in other parts of the country. For us, we have "rainy season", for which we prepare. But everywhere else, it rains all year round at random times. An amazing concept. So I, of course, was caught without an umbrella, and had to buy one on the way home, but still ended up soaked to the skin. Dang.
Thursday night was dinner with Cousins Steve and Lorraine. They took me to a wonderful restaurant - Destino on First Avenue. Big fat martinis. Big fat steak. Big fat Gretchen.
Friday morning rehearsal at 9:00 am. Should probably not have had so much martini and steak. It was still rousing though. They arranged us the way we'll be standing when we perform in Carnegie Hall, making us line up from shortest to tallest within each section. I am, naturally, the third to tallest alto, and so am on the very back row. The story of my life. Amazingly, Lynn (Curly Girl on my sidebar) is standing right next to me, so we two tall girls get to experience Carnegie Hall together. Which I'm very happy about.
Lynn & me. Tall girls on the back row.
Tonight I'm having a few of the choir friends over for a quick drink at Aunt Grace's apartment, and then joining my old college friends for dinner. I'm very excited to see them all - the FUNNEST group of people. I will try not to drink too many martinis and go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Try.
BlogHer has kindly syndicated one of my posts! Please check it out HERE, and read about my very own birth, complete with a sweet picture of Mama and a groovy video of Clint Eastwood. I promise this all makes sense if you read it. If you read it when I first posted it, never you mind, go read it AGAIN. Because then BlogHer will think I'm a big deal.
Oh, and tweet it too, if you're so inclined. They seem to like that stuff.
I'm on my way to New York to sing at Carnegie Hall!
If you missed this amazing turn of events, read HERE.
I'm so excited I can't stand it. Five days on my own in the Big Apple! Actually performing Mozart's Requiem in Carnegie Hall! Getting to see a bunch of my old college friends! Swinging by Long Island to visit Mommy and Pop! It's all so good. It's just what I need.
However, I've been a nervous wreck all week. Am I worried about singing Mozart's Requiem? No. Am I worried about performing in front of 2000 people in Carnegie Hall? No. Am I worried about what the hell I'm going to wear? Whether or not I'm going to trip and fall on my face? Come in at the wrong time? On the wrong note? No, no, no and no.
I am worried about the care and maintenance of Jude while I'm gone.
Yes, I know that Jude's a big boy, and Jimmy's an even bigger boy. And I know that I should trust Jimmy to take care of doing what needs to be done for his son. But...I don't. I just don't trust that he will get the boy where/when he needs to be for a whole 5 days.
So I have prepared. Ridiculously. I have made a detailed schedule and posted it to the cabinet in the kitchen...
I have written out exactly what he needs to pack for Jude's lunch every day. With bullet points...
All lunch food is arranged and labeled on the counter below the sign.
I have pre-packed bags with everything Jude will need for his various activities, and clearly labeled them...
I have arranged for a teenage neighbor to come over and "hang out" with Jude while Jimmy works on Thursday night (apparently, he is much too old for a "babysitter"), and have left money for him in an envelope on the mantel.
I have arranged for a sleepover on Friday night, and a ride to a party at the beach on Saturday. I have printed out detailed directions to all of these places, with numerous phone numbers for everyone involved.
I have filled the refrigerator with a massive amount of simple-to-prepare and/or frozen foods. I have affixed Post-it notes to various foods saying things like "Eat this" and "Microwave on High for 2 minutes".
I have arranged for him to stay after school on Wednesday and Thursday to ensure that he has time to complete the THREE school projects he has due over the next two weeks.
Okay, Gretchen, breathe in...breathe out. It's all fine. It will all be fine. How bad could it get? No, don't think about it. Just think about this...
Carnegie Hall - the view from the stage.
I'll try to check in with y'all during the week. Ooo, maybe I'll even Tweet. I could do that, I could Tweet.
Back when I first met Jimmy, I was dangerously close to becoming an old Cat Lady.
I was 30, single and had 3 cats. In one small apartment. It's amazing that I ever got a date. I would bring a guy back to my apartment and one by one the three cats would come out to meet the man which their Mommy had brought into their midst, and I could see the concern growing in my date's face as each cat entered the room and started checking him out.
And somehow, I had also started collecting...cat tchotchkes. A truly embarrassing number of small kitty figurines and kitty pictures and kitty potholders and kitty pajamas and kitty...well you get the idea. I could see how this could be deemed frightening.
I did not set out to become a creepy Cat Lady. I just somehow...accumulated them.
Cat Accumulation Timeline:
College - adopted Bogie from the Humane Society.
Moved to Dallas. Bogie passed away for unremembered reasons. It was very traumatizing.
1983 - Adopted Rodney from ex's parents.
Adopted Mae from ex's parents (they had a terrifying number of cats, none of which they spayed or neutered - a font of kitties)
Mae hit by car.
The tragedy of Mae's death inspired me to make the cats indoor-only. I began to invest in those cat hair roller thingies.
Adopted Bette from ex's parents.
Louie appeared at my door. He joined the family.
Louie died of kidney failure. Very traumatizing.
1987 - Imogene appeared at my door. She joined the family.
1989 - Moved to California with Rodney, Bette and Imogene. 3 cats, one Toyota Tercel.
String of boyfriends subjected to 3 cats.
1995 - Married Jimmy, making him the official Cat Daddy.
1998 - Rodney, aged 14, passed away from cancer.
2002 - Bette, aged 17, passed away from old age.
2009 - Imogene, aged 23, passed away from extreme old age.
Jimmy refuses to let me adopt another cat.
My time as Cat Lady comes to an end.
Of all of my feline companions, the most important and memorable was definitely Rodney.
Rodney was beyond cat. I always said that he was one reincarnation away from human. This cat was exceptional.
My Rodney.
He was completely gregarious - he loved people. I think that he thought he was a person. He followed me everywhere I went. I could actually take him places - he loved the car. When Jimmy or I would get home, he would leap up on our shoulders and ride around until we made him get down. He went crazy for french fries and cantaloupe. Everybody who met him was completely taken by him. Friends would drop by to bring the cat presents just because they liked him so much.
1994 Northridge earthquake. Most cats wanted to hide under the bed. Rodney wanted to be with the people.
I can still remember the smell of that cat and the satisfying warmth of his fur under my hand when I snuggled him. I had a deep and profound love for that animal.
When he got sick, and was diagnosed with inoperable cancer, I held him for days as he slowly wasted away. He purred the whole time. When Jimmy and I decided that it was time to put him to sleep, we both held him, whispering in his ears, telling him how much we loved him, as the doctor gave him the injection. I still celebrate the anniversary of his death, February 21st.
Have I once again revealed too much?
Jude and I desperately want another cat. We think that Fancy, our sweet little dog, would get along well with a kitten. But Jimmy firmly refuses. I'm afraid that at the end of our Imogene's life, she spent about a year living in the kitty nursing home, also known as the laundry room. She was completely incontinent and senile. I mean, she was 23 after all! But it was all just a little too much...urine for Jimmy. He says he can no longer be the Cat Daddy.
But I know that I still have it in me, the tendency toward Cat Ladydom. I can totally see myself as a loony old widow, living surrounded by my cat babies. Knitting them little sweaters. Sleeping with them all over my bed. Succumbing once again to the lure of the kitty tchotchke.
Oh well, something to look forward to!
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If you're an animal lover, you simply MUST read the other Pets spins...
That's right, we're taking a week off while I head to New York to perform Mozart's Requiem in Carnegie Hall. For those who missed this exciting update, read about it HERE. I will try my best to check in here and post a little something. But don't count on it. I do promise a Carnegie Hall recap once I get back.
However, in TWO weeks, that's the week of May 27 - May 31 on the Spin Cycle...
Mama was working in the garden, planting some new rose bushes. She was not wearing gardening gloves, because she liked the way the moist dirt felt on her hands. She would come to regret this.
It was mid-March, and the weather in Texas was starting to warm up, so she had decided to garden at dusk, when it was pleasantly cool outside.
She was wearing a large and not particularly attractive muumuu, which her sister-in-law, Verna, had sent her from Hawaii. It was the only thing that still fit her, as she had outgrown all of her maternity clothes.
Oh, did I fail to mention that she was pregnant? She was. Quite pregnant, in fact. But she still had a couple of weeks until her due date, so she was pretty surprised when labor pains started in fast and furious. She sunk down to her knees.
"Roy!!!" she cried.
Nothing.
"ROY!!!" she yelled out, louder.
Nothing.
She managed to get up and stagger into the house. Daddy was sitting in his big chair in the living room, watching "Rawhide" on television. Daddy loved a good Western.
"Roy! It's TIME!!" Mama cried. Mama was often melodramatic.
"Now?" Daddy asked calmly. Daddy was never melodramatic.
"Yes! Now! The baby is coming now!"
"Well, why don't you go lie down and let me watch the rest of "Rawhide". It will take a while for that baby to get here. We'll drive in to the hospital after the show," declared Daddy, ever the pragmatist.
"But this baby is coming NOW!"
A rather large fight ensued.
Mama, of course, won, as pregnant women in labor tend to do, and Daddy turned off "Rawhide" and drove her to the hospital.
When they got there, they whisked her into the Maternity Ward, and told Daddy to go home. They would call him when it was closer to the time for delivery.
Once Mama got into the Maternity Ward, they stuck her in a bed in the corner and refused to call her doctor. It was far too early, they said, it will still be many hours until that baby was ready to come out.
"But this baby is coming NOW!"
"Oh my goodness, you older mothers..." scoffed the nurse. Mama never forget this line.
Because she was, in fact, an older mother - almost 40. Which was rare in those days. And the nurse in charge seemed to think that Mama was a silly, over-reacting older mother, who clearly didn't know anything about birthing babies.
Mama became convinced that they just weren't taking her seriously enough because she was wearing this terrible muumuu and she had dirt stuck under her fingernails. She was afraid that they thought she was some kind of low-class woman, who didn't know any better than to go into labor with dirty nails.
"I was gardening! I'm not usually dirty!" Mama tried to tell the nurses, "I should have worn gloves! This baby is coming NOW!"
Finally, after a few hours, she convinced a nurse to come and examine her, and sure enough the nurse took one look and said "This baby is coming NOW!"
They called her doctor, and Daddy, who both rushed down to the hospital. Within an hour, the doctor found Daddy out in the waiting room, and told him he was the father of a healthy baby girl. Me. It was just after midnight on March 18, 1961.
Notice that by now she has washed her hands and put on a little lipstick. And a bow.
Daddy never got to see the end of that episode of "Rawhide". And Daddy, having the wry sense of humor that he did, complained about it for the rest of his life. Every year on my birthday, he'd mutter sadly, "Never did see the end of that "Rawhide". Every time the show was on, he'd watch, but after a few minutes he'd shake his head sadly, "Nope. That's not the episode."
But Daddy didn't have Google. Or IMDb. Or YouTube. Though he would have loved them - all that information at his fingertips. And I, being very much my father's daughter, did a bit of research.
I Googled "Rawhide March 17, 1961" and sure enough..."Rawhide" Season 3, Episode 19, Incident Near Gloomy River popped right up on IMDb! The legend has been confirmed! And John Cassavetes was the guest star, so I guess it was a good episode!
My next stop was YouTube, and guess what? A scene from Incident Near Gloomy River. Gotta love the young Clint.
And so, this is for you Da.
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This post was inspired by...
Prompt #3 - Tell us about the story of your birth.
So I have finished my blog-every-day-for-a-month experiment. The point of the experiment was to attempt to get myself out of my blogging rut and find inspiration in new and exciting ways. I would say it was somewhat successful. Here's what I learned...
Pros -
Definitely got me thinking out of the box regarding blog fodder.
I realized that my Random Tuesday Thoughts posts were using up all of my short ideas that I could have written into a full but short blog post.
It's okay to write a short blog post.
It's okay to post on the weekend.
It's okay to post about what I call "Day to day la-dee-dah".
I don't have to be on a "schedule", I can post whenever I want.
I never had to resort to the threatened funny cat video.
Cons -
Completely got in my way of writing the book I'm working on. I just don't have time to do both.
I had the LAZIEST Mother's Day. Jimmy and Jude allowed me to just dilly-dally in bed all afternoon - I watched tv, I played computer games, I read, I ate food that I didn't have to make off a breakfast tray. It was heavenly. I realize that most mothers want a nice brunch or dinner or something, but I was just too exhausted. I really needed the day to rest and recuperate. I hope all of you mothers out there had a beautiful day, and that you got treated with exactly what YOU needed.
Oh, and in honor of Mother's Day, here are some glamorous pictures of my two mothers...
Mama!
Mommy!
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I have been loving the latest season of Game of Thrones. The other day I found this article 16 Games of Thrones Characters Who Are Giving You Major Deja Vu. You know, I watch a ton of British tv, and I always see the same actors over and over, but some of these blew me away. I mean, I knew that the women who plays Margaery Tyrell also played Anne Boleyn on The Tudors, and the actress who plays Osha was Tonks in the Harry Potter movies...
and Ser Jerah was the dastardly Sir Richard on Downton Abbey...
But I was totally blown away to realize that Littlefinger is the same actor who played Tommy Carcetti on The Wire!
Oh my God!
...I mean, I've been obsessively watching Game of Thrones and The Wire concurrently, and it never occurred to me ever! A testament to Aidan Gillen's abilities as an actor.
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I personally would like to add "Please stop posting glamorous pictures of yourself and exaggerating your mediocre acting career." I realize that this doesn't resonate for most of you.
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Jude and I finally went and saw 42, the movie about Jackie Robinson, and we both enjoyed it very much. He wasn't so sure if he wanted to see it, as he has decided that he isn't into baseball anymore now that he has discovered the joys of track and swimming, but I suspected that it would appeal to him and his innate sense of social justice, and I was right. He's been talking about it ever since. Yes, it is a little overly earnest, and sentimental, but it's really well-acted and extremely moving. I highly recommend that you all take your kids to see it. It's a great story of heroism and strength. Be warned that the language is a little rough, and there is repeated use of the n-word (at one point, Jude actually covered his ears because of it), but it certainly was historically accurate, and the word is never used casually - the hatred behind it is very impactful. And there's a little sexy stuff, but it's all sweet married people who love each other sexy stuff, so I was fine with it. Go see it!
Chadwick Boseman, who played Robinson also happens to be super cute. Just saying.
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I stole this off a friend's Facebook page, and I'm fairly sorry for it - I don't know this woman, and she's probably horrified that a picture of her has gone viral - but really?
This is in a McDonald's. So wrong. On so many levels.
