I haven't blogged here is quite a while ... actually something like maybe four or five years. I've been keeping a diary, but I lost a bunch of the latest one in a computer glitch. Then I started posting on Dearborn PATCH and the homepage of The Players Guild of Dearborn writing about activities at the Guild.

I'll repost some of those here starting with some about the Guild production of Stephen Sondheim's A Little Night Music.

This first one was written on March 25, 2013.

The Players Guild of Dearborn, one of Dearborn’s best kept secrets, is currently preparing Stephen Sondheim’s musical, A Little Night Music, for presentation to Dearborn audiences the last weekend in April and the first three weekends in May.

A Little Night Music is a fanciful tale set in Sweden at the turn of the 20th century. Middle-aged lawyer Fredrik Egerman brings his new 18-year-old bride Anne to a play starring his former mistress, Desirée Armfeldt.

Before long, Desirée subtly weaves her way back into Fredrik’s life and they rekindle their romance, incurring the wrath of her current lover, the pompous and jealous Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm. To complicate matters, Carl-Magnus’ wife Charlotte warns Anne of both their husbands’ infidelities, and the two make plans to “shame Desirée back behind her wrinkles.”

But Desirée has plans of her own, and before long all the mismatched couples — including Fredrik’s son Henrik (who is hopelessly in love with Anne), the Egerman’s lusty maid Petra, and Desirée’s daughter Fredrika — find themselves at the country estate of Desirée’s mother, the worldly Madame Armfeldt.

As the weekend in the country unfolds, secret desires are exposed, tension runs high, and the sun won’t set until all the lovers find their true partners.

The musical is being produced in cooperation with Music Theater International.

Followers of this blog will get a back-stage view of the casting, rehearsals, and performances of A Little Night Music. Welcome to the theatre.

Back to School

My father used to say, "Teaching is a little like playing professional baseball. You get to start a new season every year."

Well, today, the President of the United States (forget his name, his party, his religion, his color) wanted to give a "first day of school speech" to the kids of the nation. People bitched. School districts opted out. Parents kept kids home.

I read the speech. I listened to most of it. The message was "do what your parents, and grand-parents want you to do," "stay in school," "study hard," "do your best," "it's important for you and your country." Now, what the hell is wrong with that.

If we, as a country, as a nation, as a people, FAIL, it will be because we've brought ourselves down.

Today was depressing. A lot of days are depressing.

Onward and upward?? I hope so.

All the Days Dwindle Down

It is September, before a rainfall … no, it is September and time to catch-up.

Let's see. Michael Jackson's death has been ruled a homicide. The coroner thinks his doctor did it with an overdose of one of the drugs Jackson was using to get to sleep. Bizarre. He was buried in the mausoleum at Forest Lawn Cemetery yesterday. "Oh, lay me down at Forest Lawn in a silver casket, with golden flowers over my head in a silver basket."

Teddy Kennedy died the other day. The left went into mourning. The media went crazy again. He went down as "the Lion of the Senate." I remember writing to him year's ago and urging him to pick-up the liberal banner and go forward. I wish I had a copy of that letter. I wonder if he ever read it? He's was buried in Arlington near his brothers. That's quite a family. I guess you can be "quite a family" if you've got money.

Yesterday it was announced that many of the CEOs of the banks that got bail out money are getting huge bonuses that will push their salaries to something like $13 million. That's obscene. Keep that up and there will be a revolution.

Let's see … a woman someplace is pregnant with 12 babies … a woman who was kidnapped as a child about 18 years ago has been found with two daughters of her own by the sex offender who kidnapped her … why didn't she try to get away … and why didn't the sheriff investigate more thoroughly … Bill Cosby came to Detroit to help the public schools … they need all the help they can get … theft, corruption, you name it.

In golf, they're into the FedEx Cup play-offs. Heath Slocum (who the hell is he?) won the first one. He beat Tiger by two strokes after Tiger missed a birdie putt on the 72nd hole. They're playing this week in Boston. I've got Vijay. He didn't make the cut last week. Either did the guy I had. Tiger still leads in the point count.

The Tigers are still in first place in the Central Division. They lead Chicago by seven and Minnesota by five with 29 games left. In those games, they play Chicago seven times and Minnesota three times. That will tell the tale. If they play their final 29 games with the same winning percentage they have now, they'll be tough to beat.

In local golf, I've been playing fairly well of late. I've had scores of 75 and 77 in Coscarelly's League. We scramble the drive so I get a break when I hit a crummy one and we're usually on all the par threes. Yesterday at Lilac Brothers, we used 11 of my tee shots and I won closest to the pin on two of the four par threes. That's when I shot 77 (38-39). At Rasin River and Taylor Meadows (where you play your own ball) I've been in the low 80s pretty consistently. Now watch it all go to hell.

The days are dwindling down … to a precious few.

Maine

Julie and I spent all or part of ten days in Maine. We left home on July 22 and drove to Lee, Massachusetts. In Lee we stayed at a tired Quality Inn, but associated with the Inn was a great Indian Restaurant: The Bombay Bar and Grill. Super martinis and wonderful Indian food.

We had an interesting time driving to Lee. We had borrowed Julie's girlfriend's GPS system. It kept taking us away from I-90, the New York ThruWay, and onto NY route 20a, a two lane road winding through quaint towns and the beautiful New York countryside - a countryside dominated by New York's largest wind farm. Giant wind turbines with blades that reach 400 feet into the air are like eerie-looking aliens. They are almost scary as they appear to be able to begin moving across the landscape whenever they get the urge. From an article I read, it's my understanding that they are controversial. The farmers get paid to allow them on their farms, but lots of people say they shouldn't be allowed. One farmer made an interesting comment when he talked about the high tension lines that were installed during the electrification of America. People objected to those, too, but now take them for granted, Maybe the same thing will happen to the windmills.

It turns out that the GPS was programed to avoid toll roads and she (Julie named her Lola) worked perfectly once she was reprogramed. I think I'll get one for Julie as a birthday present.

We arrived on Westport Island on Thursday, the 23rd, and stayed at Meg's house as there were renters in Julie's house. The houses are on Kehail Point and face the Sheepscot River. They are about nine-tenths of a mile from the ocean. You look south from the house, down the widening river, until you see the lighthouse at Hendrick's Head on the Atlantic. The view is ever-changing and always magnificent … even in the fog.

The Sheepscot rises and falls with the tide with high tide being 8-12 feet higher than low tide. Upper Mark Island, an uninhabited rock covered with small trees and bushes is about two-tenths of a mile from shore. At low tide, the Harbor Seals bask on the rocks. At high tide you can watch them as they hunt for food. There are also all manner of birds from Eagles to the small birds that flit through the bushes between the houses and the water.

And then, there are the lobster fishermen. Their boats seem to be the ultimate male toy with their chugging engines, their radios and radar, and their lobstering equipment. They fish right in front of the houses and, on occasion, we've had them deliver lobsters to the dock in front of Meg's house. You can't get much fresher than that.

We moved into Julie's house on Saturday. Jenny, Bob, and Sophie, and Richard and Addie also arrived on Saturday. They rent a house on the Long Cove side of Kehail Point, just a short walk from Meg and Julie. Sunday was a rainy day and Rick played Monopoly with Sophie and Addie. Dinner at their camp.

On Monday morning, we went to the little beach at the end of Long Cove to hunt for treasures from the sea. Tom and Kara arrived on Monday. Rick picked them up at the Portland airport and brought them to Westport. We made another trip to the Long Cove beach in the afternoon. In the evening their was a surprise birthday party for Carl at Ellen's place. The kids had a good time with Ellen's tire swing.

On Tuesday we went to Reid State Park on the end of Georgetown Island. The kids, Julie, Jen, Bob, and Tom swam in the surf. Rick and I watched. We had a lobster dinner at their cottage that evening.

On Wednesday, we took one of Cap'n Fish's boat rides. The kids had a good time running from the bow to the stern, up the stairs to the upper deck, and back again.

Rick and Addie left on Thursday. Julie and I went to Damariscotta. Bob, Jenny, and Sophie went back to Booth Bay Harbor to bowl. We had dinner at Meg's on Thursday night.

On Friday, Julie and I took Tom and Kara to the Portland airport. Then we went into Portland to the Portland Museum of Art to see the Art Colonies of Maine show. Two of Julie's grandfather's paintings we're in the show and the show book cover was Pip's "Road to Ogunquit." On Friday afternoon we packed up to leave.

Saturday we drove to Rochester, New York. On Sunday we drove the rest of the way home. I wish we could have stayed in Maine a lot longer.

Twists and Turns

Things happen. They just happen. And taken collectively, they lead you through the twists and turns of your life to wherever it is you're going. You can dream. You can plan. But the things keep happening. And you get pushed and pulled, nudged and swept along, until - there you are!

I joined the Army in March of 1955. I did it to get away from a boy-girl-boy situation that wasn't resolving itself the way I wanted it resolved. I was losing. I also did it because I wasn't doing well at Michigan State University and probably recognized that I needed to grow-up a little bit.

When I announced my intention of quitting, John Winburne, Dean of the Basic College, called me in and gave me hell. He said, "We live in a world with a crying need for intelligence. You have that intelligence and you waste it instead of making a contribution." When I got out of the Army in 1958 and went back to Michigan State, one of the first things I did was go see Dean Winburne and tell him that he was right.

Anyway, I had to go through the suburban-Detroit intersection of Grand River and Telegraph on the way from East Lansing to Wyandotte. There was an Army recruiting station on an island in the intersection. I stopped there one weekend in February or March and enlisted. I signed-up for a two year hitch with the 8th Infantry Division. They were scheduled to go to Europe and I wanted to get as far away from Mary as possible.

Mom and Dad were upset. Dad said that the Army wouldn't take me because of my asthma. But the army was hard-up for recruits, I was breathing, and I passed the physical after the technician had me lie down for about 15 minutes to slow my heart rate.

I was inducted on March 29, 1955 at Fort Wayne in Detroit. We spent several days there taking various placement tests. We were sitting in a room waiting for processing of some kind or other and the solider at the front desk called my name.

"Private Sparrow. Front and center."

A "Sergeant Fortune" wanted to see me. I was led down a narrow hallway and into a small room. Sergeant Fortune was seated at a desk. He was wearing his olive drab uniform with an Eisenhower jacket. Underneath his Combat Infantryman's Badge were four rows of ribbons. He had hashmarks from his wrist to his elbow - indicating almost thirty years of service. He "ordered" me to sit down.

"I see here that you've enlisted for the 8th Infantry Divison."

"That right," I said.

"Why in hell'd you do that?"

"The 8th Infantry Division is scheduled to rotate to Europe and I'd like to go."

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Sparrow," he said, "life in the infantry is hard. You ever spent six months out of a year in the field?"

"What do you mean 'in the field'?"

"You know - livin' in tents, eatin' out of your mess kit, cold showers, diggin' latrines. That kind of thing."

"Well, no. I haven't done that."

"Ain't much fun. Tough way to live. I might be able to give you a chance to see Europe in a little more comfort."

"Oh?"

"You got really good scores on your placement tests, Sparrow. Two years of college. Parents are both educators. You look like a pretty bright person -just the kind of solider we need in the ASA," he smiled.

"What's the ASA?"

"The Army Security Agency - our branch of communications intelligence. Can't tell you much about the work because most of it is 'top secret,' but I know from personal experience that it's fascinatin'. And it sure as hell beats bein' in the infantry."

Sergeant Fortune was persuasive. He described the radio work, the code schools at Fort Devens, the language schools in California. And he described the ASA's "fixed" field stations with their bowling alleys, EM clubs, golf courses, and comfortable living quarters. And all that stuff about 'top secret' was particularly intriguing. Even though I had to enlist for another year, I was sold. I signed Sergeant Fortune's enlistment extension. That's how I wound up in the ASA.

The twists and turns.

Hurrah for the Fourth of July!!!

Here's a Fourth of July story.
I'm in a Players Guild of Dearborn production of 1776 playing Stephen Hopkins of Rhode Island. We're doing a performance for about 200 kids from Salina Middle School. Paul Bruce is one of their teachers. He is in the cast playing Roger Sherman. Paul frequently arranges for kids from Salina to see our shows. The school serves a depressed area of Dearborn with a large middle-eastern population. I think it's great that Paul gets the kids to the Guild for a "live theatre experience."
In the show, Pat Landio is playing Andrew McNair. McNair was sort of a custodian/barkeep/errand-runner for the Congress. During the show, McNair periodically goes over to a wall calendar and removes a sheet to indicate a passage of time. The opening date is May 8.
The play drags on. McNair reveals June 7. In real time an hour goes by. July 1. Two hours. Now we're pushing three hours. McNair tears off a calendar sheet revealing July 4.
In a voice that can be heard throughout the house, one of the kids says, "Finally!"
Hurrah for the Fourth of July!

Catching Up, Again

I haven't written anything for a while. Let's see. Monica Conyers was indicted by the feds and plead guilty to one count of conspiracy. She could face five years in prison. She resigned from the Detroit City Council. It's hard to believe that her husband didn't know anything about any of this.

Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, and Karl Malden died within a week and a half of each other. Farrah staged a valiant fight against cancer. Malden died of old-age. Jackson died of a possible drug overdose.

My son-in-law said, "I don't know why everybody is so upset about Michael Jackson. He was a pedophile, a drug addict, $400 million in debt, his nose was falling off, and he probably had HIV." Mitch Albom suggested the out-pouring of grief was more about the grievers than Michael. Jenny says it's something about the loss of youth.

Jenny told a cute story about Sophie and a friend of hers. They're riding in the car. The girls are in the backseat and Jenny hears their conversation go something like this.

"Michael Jackson died on Thursday."

"Yes. He was brown-skinned boy who turned into a vampire."

"Or, a woman."

Through the eyes of children.

More later.