Maile Hernandez

I had the opportunity to listen to a new Christmas CD, titled Still, by one of our local singer/actors, Jordan Bluth. 

Who was in Blackbeard.  Remember Blackbeard?  The completely awesome, shoulda-gotten-way-more-kudos-than-it-did musical by the insanely talented Rob Gardner, also known as the completely awesome, should-be-known-as-one-of-the-great-prides-of-Arizona?

Please, do yourself a favor and buy this CD.  I am so glad to have it be part of my holiday season this year.  I play it in the car, especially when I get tired of some of the braying renditions of Christmas songs that get played endlessly on KEZ 99.9.  (Sorry, Beth and Bill.  I love you.  It’s just some of these wailing re-imaginations of traditional carols that make me grit my teeth.)

The arranging and orchestrating was by - yes, Rob Gardner.  Which I didn’t know when I got ahold of this CD, but was delighted to find out.  They are in the style I’m coming to know from him - rich, lush and stirring. 

Combine that with Jordan Bluth’s voice, and this is a CD that really needs to be heard.  His resonant tenor is strong and meaty.  Do you know what I mean?  Like, not tinny.  There’s a thickness to his voice that gives it gravity.  It’s a good thing.  His voice is beautiful.

My hands-down favorite song on the CD is “What Child Is This.”  The vocals are perfect.  It’s super hard to sing high notes quietly, but he makes it sound effortless.  Well, who knows, maybe it is, for him.  It never was for me.  The arrangement is superb, with dramatic key changes that really get your attention.

But, a lot of the other traditional favorites are terrific too, and would make a great background for trimming the tree or holiday parties.  “Good Christian Men Rejoice” is the first song, and it has the right kind of “here we go” excitement that’s perfect for the beginning of a CD.  I also really enjoyed his “The First Noel.”  I’d never heard an arrangement with that kind of pulsating feel, and it really worked.

Of course, there’s the obligatory “O Holy Night.”  I mean any tenor doing his own album has to take a crack at that one, right?  And Jordan’s is quite successful. 

The last three songs were from The Forgotten Carols, a holiday musical by Michael McLean, who writes religious music (as does the totally awesome Rob Gardner).  While I am not from a religious background, I was moved by “The Innkeeper,” which is from the unique perspective of the inn owner who turned Joseph and Mary away.  It was an original idea, and when he talked about having trouble forgiving himself for turning them away, I could relate. 

I liked the idea that in order to find peace in the world, it has to start with peace and forgiveness within each of ourselves.  It made sense.  If you’re at war with yourself, how are you going have the clarity to bring any kind of peace to those around you?  And I thought the dual meanings of the phrase “let Him in” were clever.

Generally, I can’t imagine that this album could garner much criticism for the vocals/musicianship.  There’s always room for disagreement, but I’d really be surprised if someone came up to me and said “You’re an idiot!  He’s terrible!”  I mean, he’s obviously an excellent and accomplished professional tenor, easily comparable to other young big-name tenors.

Incidentally, Jordan graduated from Indiana U. School of Music, which was also where I was a voice major.  I know firsthand that it’s a very prestigious and demanding program.  Unable to make a full commitment, I went on to finish with a liberal arts degree, contenting myself with my involvement in the traveling song-and-dance group, The Singing Hoosiers.  We sang a holiday show on PBS with Mel Torme once.  That was pretty cool.

I digress.  My point is, Jordan excelled in a top-notch music school, and it shows.

By the way, I’m not a friend of Jordan’s.  Not even a Facebook friend.  :)  I’m a fan, and he and Gardner better get ready, because as they keep up with their efforts, they’re going to have plenty more.  If there is any justice.

KEZ 99.9?  You need to be playing songs from this CD.  Seriously.  Local artists with this kind of talent need to be showcased, and it’s a no-brainer that KEZ, the local Christmas station, should be drooling over this.

I don’t know much for marketing, but I really hope that this album finds success and is heard by many people.  I’ve truly enjoyed it, and plan on listening to it every year.  I feel very sure that a lot of other people would, too - if they get the word.

No, I did not get up between midnight and 5 a.m. to try to witness the Leonid meteor shower last night.  But I can’t help wondering if I’m being affected by it anyway!  Because this has been a weird, weird week.

Our house has been burgled TWICE in less than a week.  It happened Thursday, then again on Monday.

Yes, it did.  Nope, not kidding.  Yes, it’s awful.

Needless to say we’re outfitting it with every kind of protection possible now, and I think we’ll simply cease to leave any computer at all in the house when we’re out.

It does a number on you.  I admit it, I’ve been really rattled.  It’s not that I think I’m in danger exactly, but I’m just - well, rattled.  Having trouble concentrating at work and the like.  It’s just thrown me off-balance. 

Why can’t they rob somebody rich?  Jeez, we have almost nothing.  Go to a house where you can score some good stuff!

I had one nice little distraction from the burglary business –

I got my first controversy on an article I wrote. 

I’ve written over 20 articles, many of them review-type articles, and they all just went out into the great nowhere.  Then all of a sudden, boom!  People had some super strong opinions on this one. 

I was ready, one day, for someone to get pissed off about something I wrote.  I mean, of course that’s going to happen.  But I assumed that when the day came, that person would be upset about something critical I said about a show, or someone in it. 

Wrong!  Turns out in this case, the offended party - parties, actually - thought I was too nice.

That was a bit of a surprise.  But as a theatre reviewer friend of mine said, at least it means people are reading your stuff! 

One more thing, and this is really cool . . .

My friend Treena is going to be on 48 Hours this weekend! 

She’s a homicide prosecutor and they’re featuring this high-profile case she handled.  I read some snippets of her closing argument from the trial, and wow!  She’s a bad ass!

So you should all check out “48 Hours Mystery” on CBS this Saturday.  That’s Treena Kay, MY friend, fighting for justice on the national newsmagazine silver screen!  And while it’s airing my girlfriends are going to have a viewing party with her as the guest of honor. 

I’m bringing fruit and cheese to go with the boxed wine. 

I’m excited to see everyone!  I could really use a nice yentas’ evening.  I haven’t even told any of them about the burglaries yet.  Ha!  There’ll be some fodder for conversation.

Today at the mall, Max and I got in the elevator.  He loves elevators, and he was hopping around squealing and flapping his arms.  He was completely adorable, and at that moment, utterly, obviously autistic.

This very yuppie looking couple got in with us.  She was pregnant, and they already had a little baby in a stroller.  They got in and just went quiet.

I’m sure they thought Max was cute.  I’m sure they also thought, “Hope we’re not her someday.”

When Max was about four or five, I knew a couple people who got pregnant.  They came to me asking my opinion about shots.  Which I gave, unsatisfactory though it is (the jury’s out but my gut tells me Max was autistic from conception).

I remember thinking, really?  You’re actually asking me, what can I do to make sure my child doesn’t come out like yours?

When Max was first diagnosed, we went to CARE, this place that specializes in dietary adjustments.  We were looking into everything at first.  I remember waiting in the lobby.  Two things happened.

First, the girls behind the desk were laughing and chattering about how many people were coming into the office.

“Job security for us!”  They crowed.

I didn’t say anything, but was thinking balefully, “Hi.  I’m sitting right here.  My son was diagnosed last week with autism.  I’m so glad it means you can get your nails done every week.”

Then, a 12 year old with autism came out.  She was very overweight and nonverbal.  Smiling and happy, she galloped into the waiting room and promptly pulled her dress off over her head.

Her mom came rushing in behind and pulled it back on her.  She just laughed and said, “Sorry guys, my little stripper!”

I thought, “Oh, my God.”

How things change.

Because for years I would have thought, sharing the elevator with those people: “They’re praying they won’t have to live with autism.  And they probably won’t.  But I’m glad that, for this second, they have to live with the fear that I live with every day by looking at us.  Afraid, guys?  Be afraid! . . .”

And so on.  A litany of bitter thoughts.  And they would all have come from fear.

I went through SO many years of “Why us?”

And it wasn’t self-pity, although it sounds like it.  It was constant terror.  It was, “Why am I given this responsibility that I’m so obviously not good enough for?  Why would God set me up to fail, not only myself, but my own child?”

I constantly felt like everyone was just on the sidelines, watching me struggle to clamber out of a hole in the ice, thinking, “Man, bummer.”

But yesterday on the elevator, I felt . . . smug.

I thought, “Maybe they are afraid they’ll have to be a parent to a special needs child.  And maybe they’re looking at us and wondering if they could do this.”

But now, I don’t have to wonder.  Because I am doing it.

I’m doing it.  And I know I can keep doing it.  I want to keep doing it.

Parenting him has gotten better now that he talks and communicates.  That communication gives you so much more confidence and feedback.  I’m not sure I’d feel this way if he was still basically unreachable.  That’s hard.

But I also think it’s gotten better just because time has passed, and we change.

It sucks to get wrinkles and that kind of thing, but in this way, man, the passage of time is such a blessing.

The very same thing that made me feel inadequate, shut off from the world, for so long, finally is becoming a source of confidence for me.

And where in the past I would have gotten off that elevator thinking, “F— those people and the normal life they’re going to have” - today I smiled and wished I could tell them, “Don’t worry.  You’ll be OK.”

WHAT is wrong with my damn feet???

Okay, sorry.  But seriously, this is getting out of control.  None of my shoes are comfortable anymore.  I’m getting blisters in all kinds of places.  My little toe on my left foot is like - I don’t know what the deal is!  Is it turning into some kind of hammer toe?  Seriously, right now I can’t really even wear closed-toed shoes.

Needless to say, I haven’t been working out and am puffing up like a blowfish.

I guess I have to see a podiatrist.  I don’t want to be one of those people who can never wear heels.  I need all the height I can get.

So the other day a burglar stole our computers.

NOT good.  I mean, it’s only how Conrad makes his living.

But . . . guess what?  In an astonishingly uncharacteristic display of adult responsibility, I have RENTER’S INSURANCE!!!  Paid the premiums and everything!

So our computers are to be replaced.  We got them already and then the insurance company will take the receipts and reimburse.

Moral of the story?  Buy renter’s insurance!

I’m dying to move.

This burglary is the last straw.  Once I found out the house was being foreclosed, I was already halfway out the door.  I’m tired of this neighborhood.  I’m fairly sure the people across the street are drug dealers, or drug makers, or whatever.  Tweakers.

I’m tired of the smell of our house too.  Not saying it isn’t our fault, I’m sure it is.  It always has an odor that is both rancid and curiously sweet at the same time.

I want out.  I want to leave everything behind.

If only the burglars had taken more.

Actually, I’m a little offended that they didn’t even give any thought to stealing my Patti LuPone custom-made bobbleheads.  I mean, they are one of kind.

Off to see Spelling Bee.  I’m excited - I’ve never seen it before!

Oh, if you haven’t, check out my reviews of The Phantom of the Opera and Rent.

Out!

I feel the need for speed.

I’m SO frustrated with falling asleep at 9:30 every night.

I don’t WANT to fall asleep at 9:30.  It’s the last thing I want.  Max usually goes to sleep around 9, and I desperately want that adult time.  Either to do unglamorous tasks like take the garbage out or do the dishes, or to actually watch a little TV.

But when I sit down to watch the TV, within 20 minutes of the show I’m nodding off.  And nodding off so badly I can’t be retrieved.  Conrad has tried to rouse me and always ends up just leaving me in my chair.

Annoyed as I am to miss out on my free time, I’m also annoyed because I don’t always get to the “closing up shop” things I want to do.  Last night I noticed the garbage smelled.  I said, “We have to take out the garbage tonight.”  Then I sat in my chair to watch The Biggest Loser and was unconscious before even the first of the two eliminations.  And that’s one of my favorite shows!

It’s frustrating because I don’t even have that moment where I say, “I’m tired and I’m going to go to bed.”  I’m not conscious of it, not in on the decision that this is the end of my day.  No, I’m just starting my evening, and then - BAM! - I’ve missed out on it.

I feel powerless.  It happens night after night after night.

And this morning the entire house reeked because I never got to take out the garbage.

I guess at the moment I notice things like that, I’ll just have to take care of them because if I sit down, I could well be unconscious 20 minutes later and unable to take care of them.

I’m really mad about this.  It’s not funny.  I want my evenings back.  And I’ve tried chugging Coke Zero, I’ve tried working out in the evenings while Conrad worked at putting Max to bed (it’s an intensive process), and still I can’t make it past 9:30.  And it’s not like I get up super early.  I get up at 6 for work.

I hope I can stay conscious tonight because I’m seeing Phantom at Gammage.  I’ve seen it so many times, but I love seeing new people in the roles and seeing how they do it.  Last time I saw it was the first time I ever liked Raul.  I mean, I always thought that character was a total putz, but the guy who played him really humanized him and gave him appealing dimension.  I think it was when I saw it in Las Vegas a couple years ago.

So, we’ll see what these folks do tonight.

Big theatre week

In addition to Phantom tonight, I’m seeing Rent at the Mesa Arts Center on Friday night, and Saturday night Spelling Bee at the Phoenix Theatre.  Things had dried up for a while, now 3 shows in a week - it’s feast or famine, I tell you!

Today being Veterans’ Day I don’t have work.  It’s throwing me all out of whack.  I found myself really grumpy this morning and unable to put a finger on exactly why.  But I think it was the lack of routine.  It’s like, I have a day off so there’s a feeling of pressure, like I’m supposed to get all this great stuff done.  Or in the alternative that I should be doing something awesome.  Neither of which is so!

I’m actually more able to get things done when I have to squeeze them in between scheduled obligations, than when I’m just handed a big block of time.

It’s said “If you want something to get done, ask a busy person.”  Definitely true for me.

So guess what -

We’re moving.

Did I say that already?  Our house is being foreclosed on.  We rent it, and the landlords gave us the news last week.

It’s kind of a good thing.  It’ll force us to get out from under all this CRAP that clutters up our house and our lives.

With Max possibly heading to public school in the near future, we might want to look at districts that offer good special needs programs.  My friend Christine lives in Gilbert.  She has an autistic daughter and RAVES about their program.  So we’ll check that out, among others.

1)  Max lost his fourth tooth yesterday.

2)  I got another ongoing writing assignment I applied for, Phoenix TV Examiner.

3)  I finally learned how to make homemade macaroni and cheese that doesn’t suck.

Let’s start with the last one first.  I must once again thank Amanda Hesser, for I used her recipe.  It’s not that hard.  I just never really got the whole thing about making the bechamel sauce first, then putting the cheese in.  All this time I never really knew how to make the sauce cheesy but smooth.  Now I do!  Conrad loved it. 

“Simple, but honest,” he declared it.

Max has been eating a lot of macaroni too, because his top tooth was super loose and I think it was sore.  He’s been living on Michelina’s Wheels and Cheese, which he calls “circle macawacky and cheese.”  Seriously, I don’t know where he got that pronunciation from.  But I find it hilarious.

Well, last night the tooth finally came out!  I think Conrad managed to pull it out.  It was hanging by a thread.  Max was all serious.  He held the tooth in his hand and turned it over and over with this concerned look on his face.  I congratulated him on becoming a big boy, but he was more interested in soaking up the blood in the new hole with toilet paper, and then leaving the tiny bloody scraps all over my bed.

So, I am really happy to be able to write as Phoenix TV Examiner.  I love being a Phoenix Theater Examiner, but it’s really hard to find things to write about every day, and my goal is I want to publish at least one article every single day.  Having TV as a topic, surely I can find something to talk about almost every day!  And hopefully I’ll get more readers too, since more people do internet searches on TV-related topics than theater-related ones.

Well, it’s Saturday morning.  Conrad’s taken Max for an outing, and I stayed home to clean our wretched house.

I’m poised to dig in but am of course procrastinating a bit first.

In looking for music to put on while I clean, I saw that there’s an all-Christmas music channel now.  YAY!  I do believe I’m ready to try to get into that spirit.

By the way, Wally is still with me.  This is SO getting on my last nerve.  I did a second treatment, after 12 days.  I just couldn’t hold out the whole 14 and I could sort of tell no major progress was coming in the next 2 days.  Let’s GO!  I hope I never get another one after I get rid of this.  I feel like a freak show.

I desperately, desperately want to see a show to write about for Examiner.com.  There are a couple possibilities for tonight but I’m undecided.  It kind of depends on how things go.  Life has gotten in my way the last couple weeks, but now my crises are -somewhat- over, I want to get back to supporting local theatre!!!

Ahem.

Attention world:  I want to be a writer.

To that end, my goal now is simple - write as much as possible.  Take any opportunity I can get.  Any time at work I have down time, I want to be working on something, some article of some kind, anything.

World?  I’m quite flexible.  Seriously, if you have anything that needs writing, any kind of topic at all (well, except maybe for like techy stuff about how to take apart a motorcycle engine or something) - look no further, I’m your (wo)man.

I can’t believe it took me almost 36 years to come to the conclusion about myself that people all around me have been telling me MY ENTIRE LIFE.

I guess the thing was, since my parents were writers, I didn’t see any particular glamour in it.  I mean, blah, do what your parents do, how boring is that??  I wanted to be my own person.

But it’s stupid because every time I write anything, of course I’m being my own person!

So I have a couple things in the fire that I have my fingers crossed will develop into more opportunities.

And no, one of them is not replacing Leah Rozen writing reviews of movies for PEOPLE magazine.  But hey, you have to start somewhere.

I’m actually a huge fan of Leah Rozen.  She wrote a really great review of Precious the other day.  I don’t mean I’m a fan of her opinions - I’m not NOT a fan, it’s just that when I say I’m a fan, I just mean of her writing style.

I left the magazine at work for people there to enjoy - live for others, that’s my motto - so I can’t quote her review exactly and can’t seem to find it in its entirety online.  But it made me cry.  The review.

She touched on something that I’ve thought of a lot - that somehow in our society we have come to tacitly believe that the heartaches, romances, ups and downs of the lives of people who come from impoverished backgrounds or lack education or don’t look like Eva Longoria are somehow less legitimate, less interesting, less valid.  It’s so wrong, and yet I know that I’ve caught myself buying into it.

I’ve bought into a lot of crap regarding glamour over the years.  I’ve thought for so long, if you don’t have an audience, if the world isn’t watching, you don’t exist.  I don’t know why I got this way, but I did.  I really bought into the idea that being slender and gorgeous and a genius and fascinating to tons of people was the ultimate measure of success and worthiness in life.

Only now do I finally see myself changing, and seeing there’s so much more to life than that.

So, I’m intrigued by this movie, Precious - though normally anything associated with Oprah automatically repels me, I really want to see it.

The last line of the review was great, too.  DAMN it, I wish I could find it!  But it was something about her “meaty arm and mighty heart.”

Very clever and moving.  Awesome job, Leah Rozen.  Big fan.

Switching gears, last night we took Max to a high school football game, so Conrad could do an article about it.  Now taking Max to anything like that is pretty much impossible for just us, so we brought one of his young teacher/habilitation ladies from Chrysalis, his school.

It went WAY better than it would have without her.  We would probably have had to leave in ten minutes, but she really knew her stuff.  You can tell these people are professionals.  Managing a willful autistic boy in a public place, who has long legs, tons of energy, a super-loud voice, and the attention span of a gnat is no easy thing, but she really worked with him.

We need to do that more often.  Not only would it help him practice going out in public with us, but I can learn so much from watching these ladies.  I can’t beat myself up for not being born knowing how to handle this - I mean, these girls have had tons of training and education in this area - but I can, and absolutely should, watch and learn.

I may be an aging dog, but I’m still capable of learning a few new tricks.  ;)

Max is home sick today.  :(  Doesn’t seem too bad, though, but he did have a fever and was up much of the night.  I’ve been up since 4! 

At work now but I’ll probably head home this afternoon to help spell Conrad.

I’m royally pissed because I just FINALLY got a chance to write a new article for Examiner.com about Jersey Boys in Las Vegas (shut up, it’s close to Phoenix), and then it got obliterated.  That’s never happened to me before and it sucks!  I’m too disconsolate to start over right now.

So hey, I’m always afraid of offending.  It’s a problem of mine.  But right now I’m just going to be a bit out of character and put a political-type opinion out there.  I mean, it IS my blog.  If I can’t do it here, where can I do it?  In people’s living rooms, who I know feel the opposite, as if to pick a fight in the middle of a friendly visit, just start spouting off? 

That’s kinda rude. 

I’ll keep it in my private space, thanks.

So, people, the basic summary of the rant to follow is, if you’ve got a problem with gay marriage, then I’m going to have a problem with your having a problem with it.  Even if you’re an otherwise nice person, that’s gonna really stick in my craw.  In fact maybe worse.

So if my expressing how I feel about this is going to stick in YOUR craw in a similar fashion, I invite you to leave now before I commence my rant.

This way we can all stay friends. 

I’ll wait.

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Okay.  Rant commencing . . . NOW!

I heard some dude on the radio this morning who was HAPPY about Maine’s thank-you-very-little-for-not-taking-a-stand-at-all-to-overcome-bigotry vote to repeal same-sex marriage, saying the notion of same-sex marriage “undermines the institution of marriage.”

Seriously?  It “undermines” marriages?  I don’t know about YOUR marriage, but mine isn’t going to “undermined” by anything anyone else does. 

Seriously?  It’s OK for Khloe Kardashian to have a circus of a marriage after a month, while couples who have been together 25 years can’t?

It cracks me up how so many people who rant against gay marriage don’t even KNOW any of the wonderful, kind, responsible gay people in this world who would be a hundred times more equipped to marry and to parent than 85 percent of the dumbasses who come through the juvenile court where I work.  Or, even worse, they DO know them, and still won’t support their rights.

Conrad had to explain it to me.  He doesn’t share their view, he shares mine (it’s best for his safety in our home), but grew up surrounded by it enough to understand, at least better than I can.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s in the Bible.  Getting to know them has no effect, because these people’s charm or quality as people doesn’t bear on the issue.  God’s God.  This is wrong.  End of story.” 

So it wouldn’t matter if they got to know these real-life people or not.  Real people, with a million facets, a million hopes and dreams, who love as deeply as you, hurt as deeply as you, and have so very much to give . . .

Nope.  Just going to either ignore that, or feebly attempt to turn to some ridiculous stereotype of promiscuity (because of course there are no promiscuous heterosexuals) and try to pretend that’s the only reality there is, and damnit, we’re going to keep it from taking over.

Where I come from, that’s called deliberate close-mindedness.  I also call it sad and warped and ignorant, and based on a pathetically misplaced presumption of moral superiority - but worst of all, an unforgivable perpetuation of knee-jerk hate. 

Tell yourself whatever you need to to be able to sleep at night.  I’m not buying it.

My New Friend, Wally

I recently made it so that Facebook imports all my blog entries onto my Notes section.  I don’t know if this was a smart idea.  I mean, yes, currently any of my friends can look at my blog if they wanted to, but very few usually do. 

Oh, hell, like anything that unique or shocking goes on with me.

But I do run the risk of people I work with knowing slightly embarrassing things about me, and they’re more likely to know these things if an alert comes to them on Facebook that I’ve “posted a new note” and they idly click on it.

Such as, I currently have my first wart.

I have never had a wart in my life.  So when this thing first started on my finger, I didn’t even know what it was.  I didn’t pay attention to it for a while, and it wasn’t that unsightly.  But finally I said, what the hell is this? 

I looked up “warts” on my computer at work and promptly got several screens scolding me for trying to get on porn sites.  Apparently people tend to search “genital warts” on the internet more than just regular warts.

I finally made my self-diagnosis, and trekked to the store for some wart remover.  It’s this pretty cool stuff that you charge the little tip and then put it on the area, and it instantly freezes it.  Then after a couple weeks it dries up and falls off. (Cool.  Can I save it?  Put it in a locket to wear around my neck?)

The thing that’s frustrating is, you mean I do this treatment and then I don’t know for TWO WEEKS if it was effective or not?  Yeah, that’s right.  You can’t do another treatment for two weeks after you do one, you just have to wait and see.  If after two weeks it hasn’t fallen off, then you can do another one.

Man, what a drag.  I didn’t know I was signing on for possibly months of self-therapy with this thing.

I think I should name my wart.  What do you think?  Wally?

Enough gross talk.  Actually, I think there are a lot grosser things.  Wally isn’t that nasty to look at, but I’m just kind of tired of his companionship, you know?

Book Signing News

One more very cool new development:

At my book signing on December 20th at Changing Hands bookstore in Tempe, any person purchasing a copy of The Unreachable Star:  My Unauthorized Travels with Patti LuPone is automatically entered to win two PREMIUM tickets to Patti LuPone’s performance on January 2, 2010 at Phoenix Symphony Hall.  That is a smokin’ deal - for one piddling 16 dollar book you could end up with two tickets worth 85 dollars apiece to be up close and personal with THE greatest and most inspiring Broadway diva of our time.

And even if you don’t win, get tickets anyway.  My philosophy has always been that memories never depreciate, and trust me, being witness to any performance of Patti LuPone’s is a memory you’ll be damned glad to have. 

I won’t be there, sadly, but I think I’ve had enough Patti LuPone memories to last through this lifetime and three more!

Flu Season

Finally - a couple kids in Max’s school are home with swine flu.  SHIT.  Every time he coughs I have a heart attack now.  It’s not that I think he’s gonna die of swine flu - I’d just prefer he not get ANY flu.  I guess it’s kind of unrealistic to think he might make it through the whole season without getting sick.  But hey, he consumes massive amounts of Michelina’s wheels and cheese (10 for 10 dollars!), and maybe it’ll prove to somehow have some mysterious immune-system-boosting quality.

I think I know why I love horror movies so much.

Because life IS a horror movie.

Just when you think everything just might be ok, you realize that short lady with the funny voice did not, in fact, exorcise the demon from your home. No, it never left.

And who’s the idiot?  Why, you are, of course!

“Why didn’t they just leave the house? Why didn’t they call 911? Why did they go down that dark corridor?? Stupid!”

So are you. And everyone knows more than you, can see the demon behind your shoulder that you can’t see.

But you were stupid, yes? Blind, lacking in common sense.

And in a couple years there’ll be another sequel to the horror story. And this time it’s not as good and makes less money. It’s been done before.

And the audience falls away, although the demon keeps returning.