Monday, April 26, 2010

Home

Who knows how I came to this odd connection between a painfully beautiful film, and Heart-A-Rama. I'm sure abnormal sleep patterns affect the way ideas wander though the channels of one's brain - at any rate, I'm going to share my obtuse association with you with the hope that you will forgive me if, in the end, this doesn't come together verbally as cleanly as it has formulated in my mind.

I watched the moved "The Namesake" a few week ago...based on Jhumpa Lahiri's novel of the same name. Ashima, a young Bengali woman,marries Ashoke, a virtual stranger, and moves to America. Living with a stranger, and being a foreigner, Ashima soon discovers is like being in a perpetual state of waiting - waiting to belong, rather than experiencing a continuous sense of out-of-sortedness. Circumstances eventually allow Ashima to return to India for part of each year. Before leaving America, she makes an eloquent speech about the meaning of home defining it not as a geographic location, but as a state of mind. Because her ties to India have worn thin, she finds herself out of touch both in America and in India...she is without borders, a resident of everywhere and nowhere.

Now, how does all of this connect to Heart-A-Rama? In short, this year, it feels like we are home. Personally, I didn't feel the bugs as we moved to Two Rivers, but the buzz around town was that there were some. Apparently we were foreigners just seven or so miles up the road from where we began. Some who followed us felt the pang of unfamiliarity in our new surroundings. I didn't notice. Like many who work on the show, I walked into the Community House in Two Rivers and got right to work, tweaking the venue to meet our needs.
But this year, this year, things are different. We have two years behind us. We have begun to create a collective state of mind, and our new location is no longer new...it is home. We were so geared up for the calamity caused by the move that we all may have overcompensated a bit. This year, we are back to normal...I hear the cast laughing, joking and navigating the workings of HAR just like the good old days. The entire atmosphere is a little looser and a lot happier. Our audiences have seemed that way, too. As I look back, now I can see we were quite uptight the last two years, strangers waiting to settle in, hoping to shake the out-of-sortedness and move on to building a home. I think we're on our way.
And now, I will try to get some sleep, so that I can be more linear next week. Someone mentioned that my posts are too darn long (maybe she was too polite to say they are too boring!) so I'll just stop here.
One more thing...What am I reading? The Girl with the Skirt of Stars. It's a native American mystery. Pretty good so far.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Good to the Last Page by guest blogger Steven Head

"I BELIEVE MY SUBJECT IS BEWILDERMENT. BUT I COULD BE WRONG."

-Donald Westlake 1933-2008

Reveiw by guest blogger...Steve Head.


I just finished Donald Westlake's final book, Get Real, featuring the fan favorite, criminal John Dortmunder and his crew. Westlake passed away on New Years 2009. Living into his mid-70's he may have left behind enough books to fill LaDeDa, especially if you include the foreign translations. He wrote under his own name as well as Richard Stark, Tucker Coe, Samuel Holt, and Edwin West and most of his books are set in New York City. His first book, The Mercenaries, was published in 1960 and he went on to write as many as four books a year. The pen names were needed to combat the natural skepticism one man could produce so many books.

In Get Real he was able to find a good use for reality TV, as a backdrop for the gang to pull a heist. Over the course of the 278 pages we get to know Doug Fairkeep, the reality TV producer for Get Real productions, a subsidiary of ... of ... of ... Doug takes a ride in a cab driven by the mother of Stan Murch, wheelman for the Dortmunder gang, who shares more about her son and friends than Stan or the gang like. But for Doug the idea of a reality show about a gang of crooks is too good not to pursue.

Despite reservations the five member gang decides to go along with the idea, showing them planning and executing a heist, all the while planning on a bigger job. Of course there are problems along the way, the introduction of a stooge which is quickly detected by the gang, threats by management to shut down production for the types of reasons one would expect when working with criminals. Like fake names and social security numbers and disappearing property. These problems are overcome as long as the gang thinks there is a job to pull. But when the gang comes to believe the planned target is a dead end they walk.

Of course, the story ends with them pulling the job off, and somehow everyone parts on friendly terms. And that is what makes Dortmunder and his unintentionally comic gang so special. They are not the violent bunch like Tony Soprano and his boys. And they do not work and live in a dark underworld like Vachss' Burke. They are guys with wives and girl friends and apartments, with no interest in working for wages, looking for a way to make money, getting themselves out of sticky situations that make you laugh. And like most workers they have a hang out, and a lingo, and a series of problems and skills connected to their work.

Get Real also looks at the mechanics and problems of reality TV as well as international commerce and the need to pay bribes. From the successful show that falls apart when the groom of a planned wedding announces he is gay to the ploy to get a suitcase full of cash past a police inspection point. By the end of the book you feel like you know 5 crooks as well as 5 ordinary people and their scams and games and lives.

If you are a mystery fan and have not tapped into Donald Westlake you can set a goal of reading his books, and just hope you live long enough to finish them all.




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The Heart-A-Rama flags are flying here at LaDeDa which means I am tired, nervous, and grateful. Tired because I can't sleep after rehearsal. Random songs from the show pop into my head uninvited, and they get me mulling over the things I should have added to my shows but didn't...leading me to an internal discussion that perhaps I am not suited for show biz. Nervous about my cast. Are they having fun, or have I been too cranky? Did I give them enough direction to feel secure? Will they get the audience reactions they are hoping for? Grateful to Steve for sending me another wonderful review on a day that I am too tired and nervous to put together a sensible thought.
*****The beast went in for a tune-up and haircut last week. Here she is, looking pensive.

Monday, April 12, 2010

The closer we get to opening night of Heart-A-Rama, the more I think about those people who won't be with us. This year, we lost our friend Nancy Rutherford. Although Nancy hadn't performed with us for a few years, we thought of her as part of our HAR extended family.
Nancy had an elfin quality about her...tiny voice, delicate gestures, dancing eyes, bright spirit...and a happy heart. She most enjoyed roles in which she could sing and dance a bit, although she would willingly play a tree stump if asked. Nancy embraced what HAR is about, enjoying every minute on and off stage, and being proud of what the organization does.
Nancy's first year in HAR was also my first year, and neither of us knew what to expect. Ironically, for first timers, we both got huge parts. And so, we bonded. Together, we were determined to do our best. We showed up at rehearsal early, had our lines memorized before everyone else, and tried to figure out who was who in the organization as quickly and as accuratly as possible.
Since we had created such an amazing first impression, Nancy put a little plan into action! I mentioned that we showed up early for rehearsal, well, we also stayed late. After our melodrama, a small musical would rehearse featuring a chorus of flowers and bushes that popped up from beneath the stage and sang the McDonalds "two all beef patties" theme song. Nancy wanted to be one of those flowers in the worst way, and she convinced me that I wanted to be one, too. Still not knowing how the whole show came together, Nancy boldly marched up to the musical directer and announced that she and I would be flowers. From there, she informed the costume committee that they needed to make two more flower heads! And just like that, we became part of an overcrowded garden of dazed and confused petunias. For years, Nancy and I would laugh about how dumb and gutsy we were that year.
I'm glad I have that memory of Nancy's laugh.
Marilyn Lloyd is another friend that comes to mind when I think about special people who have honored us with their time. Marilyn had a twin brother, and she enjoyed sipping coffee on her screened in porch. In addition, tons of people adored Marilyn. She reminded me of a little bird for some reason. She had a musical cadence to her voice, and she had a powerful and positive aura. During her long, long battle with cancer, Marilyn looked at each new development as just another bump to get over; and she got over most of them successfully and with courage and good humor. Toward the end, she started arranging lunches with small groups of friends...tender little goodbys.
Marilyn worked backstage for many years, and relished the opportunity to sneak on stage for a quick appearance, provided she was fully disguised as a duck, a tomato, or something equally ridiculous. She was on my writing committee; we reserved the wicker chair in my living room for Marilyn because it had a footstool. She'd settle in, put her feet up, and, right on cue, my dog hopped up and draped herself across Marilyn's ankles. Marilyn didn't ask for much, but she did request that I have a roaring fire. I know that she loved popcorn...not the microwave kind, or the rubbery stuff from a bag. Marilyn liked the good old-fashioned popcorn made in a popper and bathed in butter. Her face lit up when she opened my front door and smelled wood fire and popcorn. I wish I had a picture of that lovely face to share with you.
Come see the show if you can...we still have tickets for April 22 and 29. If you do, I hope that you will feel the sense of belonging that radiates through our cast and crew...we are at home for two weeks each year...making strangers into friends...remembering our past...and creating a future for healthy hearts.

Monday, April 5, 2010


Have two weeks really passed since my last post? Sometimes I think that people with nothing to do have it made. Surely they are bored each and every minute of their lives, making the days, months and years painfully slow. But, that's just not me. Of course, I have more than my share of lazy days, and frankly, that's why I didn't post last week. I simply had to catch up. The great cleaning and tossing extravaganza has begun here at LaDeDa. Last week I pitched four bags of useless space invaders from the office, and yet, I can't tell the difference. The file cabinets are still bulging, and the shelves are overflowing. Before Brendo moved to Madison on us, she pitched in with the purge. She was brilliant! She would get a crazed look on her face, and declare "Pitch that" in big bold tones, whenever I began feeling nostalgic about an invoice, magazine photo of a favorite movie star...she's great at defining nonsense, and keeping me focused on my goal to declutter.




That, Heart-A-Rama , and a few other odds and ends kept me from blogging. But...I did some interesting reading. Death at Bishop's Keep was suggested by a customer we affectionately call "The Mrs." She enjoys historical fiction, and this Robin Paige book is part of a Victorian mystery series. The main character writes what are called "penny dreadfuls' - cheesy little novels that don't get much respect, so Kathryn keeps her avocation a secret. Her need to supplement her income drops her right into the middle of an archaeological murder, and soon she is up to her elbows in material for her next "dreadful."




I also pulled Mrs. Mike off my home shelf. Benedict and Nancy Freedman's novel took me right back to my junior high days when I was moved in all directions by this book. It's a love story, but it's also filled with adventure, and human drama. My old copy has an inscription that reads "Very enjoyable, delightful reading, also educational. 1947." I'd have to agree.




On the same shelf, right next to Mrs. Mike, was another book I have been meaning to read for year - Seven Leagues to Paradise by Richard Tregaskis. Tregaskis, long-time writer for The Saturday Evening Post, travelled 48,000 miles in search of a modern day Eden...that would be 1948 modern, the year of publication. The author voyaged leisurely around the globe - to the East Indies, Asia, Australia, Africa, and Europe. He even checked out California and New York. How times have changed. Here, he comments on an aspect of Bali that goes on his plus list : " Mason and I stared happily, feeling that in Bali one enjoys looking at handsome bosoms with the same unashamed indulgence that might be felt while standing on the corner of Fifth Avenue and watching the passing faces of attractive women." He goes on to suggest that it might be a good idea if women world wide became comfortable with publicly bare bosoms. He defines the re-education as a "pleasant process which couldn't possibly harem anyone except to brassiere industry." Just imagine contemporary travel essayist or tour book editor saying that!




Spring has arrived as you can see from the picture at the top. Those brilliant, tiny crocus flowers appear each year, live for a few days and then wither. Perhaps they are a gentle nudge for me to actually plan a garden, rather than just letting it happen. We'll see.




Last week, I received a nice email from a friend named Marlene. She told me she enjoys reading Fine Print each week. Every once in while I am reminded that people really read this thing, and I own them the respect of saying something minimally intelligent, and in a fashion that is marginally mechanically correct. Let me get through Heart-a-Rama and, I promise, I will be so profound, and polished you will think I have hired a ghost writer. Say, now there's an idea!




Thanks for stopping by.