Meet My Ex

There comes a point in most - or some, depending upon jealousy issues - marriages when eventually one's spouse is introduced to one's ex. My marriage reached that point a few nights ago when my husband and I saw the current production of "Gypsy" now playing on Broadway, with my ex-longterm-boyfriend, Boyd Gaines, in the male lead role. Considering that we watched Boyd for almost three whole hours before we met for drinks, I think that is a pretty strong indication that my husband falls in the not-jealous category. Besides which, we loved the show. If you are anywhere near NY, do not miss it!!!!! Boyd gives yet another of his incredible performances, imbuing the character with such life and humor and heart - he literally makes you laugh and cry. And Patti Lupone is a masterpiece. I have never seen an actor and a role fit so perfectly that it is hard to believe she had to learn lines and songs for it. It is a production to remember for lifetime. So after it was over, we went for a drink at a clubby little bar that used to be Upstairs at Joe Allen's, but I have no idea what it is named now, and we had a great time. Boyd and my husband got on famously, and the circumstances reminded me of one of my favorite Boyd stories:
Boyd went to see former girlfriend, Megan Gallagher (she was with him before me) in a play, and goes backstage afterwards to see her. He is in her dressing room, when Megan's boyfriend comes in, but the boyfriend just starts talking to Megan, and doesn't acknowledge Boyd. Now Boyd knows that this boyfriend knows that he used to date Megan, and being the Southern gentleman that he is, at a lull in the conversation, Boyd puts his hand out to the man and introduces himself.
The man looks at him completely appalled and says, "Okay." as if the situation is anything but.
Boyd ponders this for a moment, then says, "Perhaps you didn't hear me, I said, 'I'm Boyd Gaines.'"
"Oh!" the man replied. "I thought you said, "Let's avoid games."
Which pretty much sums up those situations, doesn't it?

Notes from the Front

Hey y'all
So, a few of y'all know that through Spoken Interludes, I run an out-reach writing program for at-risk teens called Spoken Interludes Next. Okay, yes, it is the Jr. version of titles, but it is meant to invoke the next generation of writers for the reading series, get it??!! So anyway, if you aren't familiar with it, check out the short and (I know I'm prejudiced, but...) totally heart-warming video here.
When I think about what I miss in LA, teaching in this program tops the list, even before the incredible produce. So, the other day, I got a note from one of the teachers, the amazing Lan Tran, and I wanted to share it with y'all. This note, plus teaching four special writing classes at the local middle school (including the head of publicity at HC's son whom I adore!! Not that I have favorites!) has inspired me to start Spoken Interludes Next here in NY in the fall at a home for boys in the foster system. Now to raise the money! But if I have to do it with my son's crayons and just me, I will. It is too hard to think of a community to close to me that I could bring this program to, and not start doing it. So, here's Lan's note below. Don't these kids sound amazing??
xo
From Lan Tran:
While I've taught writing to adults in the past, this was my first time working with high school kids so I was nervous about how effective I'd be. The students really surprised me from the get-go with their spunk and creativity. One of them loves riding mechanical bulls, another one is in a rock band that regularly performs around town and she wants to be a coroner when she grows up. All of them genuinely pursued their writing projects but I was especially struck by one student who wrote about a trip into space where she lands on another planet, identical to Earth, populated by folks who've died. There, she runs into her rock idol, Joey Ramone, and also reconnects with her brother. It was funny, charming, and highly imaginative (especially one part when Joey Ramone tries to stowaway on her rocket ship). Another student, impressed everyone with a multi-layered, multi-part story about one narrator's relationship with money and life. In the first part, a young boy is weighing coins and comments how even though a quarter is worth more than a penny, if you put enough pennies on one side of the scale, they will weigh more even though their value is not more. In the second section, we learn the boy is wealthy when he saves a fatally wounded homeless kid and pays for his medical bills. In the third section, the boy is now an adolescent and he kills a rat to win some money, much to the displeasure of his father, who says that life is more important than money. The boy argues back, that money can be more important than one life, because money can be used to save many lives. In the final section, the boy is now a successful businessman who owns a multi-national conglomerate dedicated to saving lives. Then he learns that his best friend has died in a car accident and he realizes that despite all his financial power, he couldn't save the life that mattered most. Thus he realizes the weight of money, once more.

On our last day, when the students wrote their thank you letters to the donors saying what they appreciated about the program, I scoured those letters, trying to find what I did right as an instructor and what worked. How could I be a better teacher? To my surprise, what nearly all the students liked most about me had nothing to do with what I consciously did as teacher. They just liked me. It was such a gift! But apparently what they love most about the program is the exposure and one-on-one time with a published author. Who knew?
I learned as much as they did!

Exactly What I Wasn't Going to Write About...

But how can I not???
Yes, I am going to write about my children.
So last night, as I was putting them to bed, my older son, who is four, asked if he could have another hug.
I told him he can always have another hug.
He said, why?
I said, because my heart is full of hugs for you.
He said, how do you know they are for me?
I said, because they have your name on them.
He said, is it spelled correctly?

So my question is: Who told him that his Momma is a rotten speller??!!

Then my fifteen month old son, who thinks he is four, proceeded to throw his blanket out of his crib and squealed with giggles every time I retrieved it. I did not help this game to end sooner by giving him hugs every time he did it. My older son asked if those hugs had his brother's name on them. I told him they did. Shockingly, he seemed assured that his brother's name had been spelled correctly.
Finally, after about 10 songs, they were exhausted and fell asleep.