Bringing back Sara

What has been my biggest life adventure? Well, it had nothing to do with journalism. It was a personal journey in the chaos of Central America in 1990.

When we decided to adopt a child in our 40s, two friends who were missionaries in Honduras put us in touch with a lawyer there.

Sure enough, she found a new-born baby, Sara Teresa,  in an orphanage in Tegucigalpa. Sara was already popular. The wife of the U.S. ambassador wanted her, too.

Probably unwisely, our lawyer sent Sara back to her birth mother for a few weeks to reserve her for us. Sara was malnourished there and lived among many chickens. Maybe  that’s why she loves animals so much today.

We flew to Tegucigalpa to see Sara, but first we wanted to stop at a Honduran resort on the Island of Roatan. We enjoyed this spot, frequented by rich people from all over the western Hemisphere, until disaster struck. Pickett fell off the edge of a pier (which had no railings) and broke her ankle.

There we were, the farthest we had ever been from what we considered civilization, and what could we do? As soon as we got back to Tegucigalpa, Pickett went to the hospital.

The doctor insisted surgery was necessary. But looking at the primitive equipment, Pickett wisely decided to wait until we returned to the U.S.

But first, with her leg in a cast, we were finally introduced to Sara, age 6 months, and enjoyed several days with her.

But for the adoption to become final, we had to wait another six months until we could return from Arlington.

In the meantime, we got a young woman to take care of her, and Sara was fed lots of  ice cream. This once-scrawny child now looked so fat in her pictures that the ice cream had to stop.  Meanwhile, Pickett got her leg fixed in a D.C. hospital.

As things dragged along, a friend actually lobbied the president of Honduras on our behalf as he gave the official a tour of Georgetown University.

But I think what really worked were the bribes we got the lawyer to pay the administrators.

Returning to Honduras around Sara’s first birthday, we took her home on Thanksgiving Day. The lawyer told us that the birth mother was secretly at the Tegucigalpa airport to watch as we departed, though I am not sure that really happened.

When we got home, Sara fell in love right away with our dog, beginning a love of dogs that led to her career as an animal groomer.

Post script: Sara expressed interest in trying to find her birth mother in later years, but the turmoil in Honduras at that time made it unsafe. However, she did meet some distant relatives in this country through DNA testing.

 

 

 

Are you old? Here’s how to find out

Ignore the calendar. Follow this guide to figure out whether you really are elderly:

—At the self-service checkout, clerks always come to help you because they know you won’t be able to figure it out.

—You don’t cut your toenails anymore. You either can’t reach them or (worse) you can‘t see them.

—You can’t watch long movies in the evening because you fall asleep after one hour.

—You wrote a list of things to remember, but you can’t remember where you put it.

—You think “Dewey beats Truman” was a funny headline in 1948, but no one knows what you are talking about.

—You lost 8 pounds when you were sick, but your gut hasn’t gotten any smaller.

—You can actually remember when there was no television.

—Friends younger than you have great grandchildren.

—You order the senior special at a restaurant and your son or daughter orders one too.

—You remember the music of Neil Sedaka, who died last week. During the pandemic he put on a Facebook show every day. (You know I recorded his “Breaking Up Is Hard to Do” and sent it to him and he wrote back that he liked it!) https://youtu.be/nfAj3KfMDcs?si=PD1mxsTdDUQY4Rgu

—You say: “You don’t remember Doris Day? Everyone remembers Doris Day!”

—You type on a phone one finger at a time, never with both thumbs.

—You can’t think of a word you want to say, but it pops up in your head days later.

—You like matinees, but you always fall asleep in the second act.

—Social gatherings are difficult because you can’t remember people’s names or even their faces.

—You keep calling people in their 50s “kids.”

—You are offended by “modern music,” but on the radio it is called “oldies.” They don’t play the music you grew up with anywhere.

—You remember when the Dodgers were in Brooklyn and there were no Major League Baseball teams west of St. Louis.

—You wake up with a hangover, but you had nothing to drink last night.

 

 

 

I still can’t open that package!

Random thoughts as spring approaches:

I I wrote recently about how hard it is to open packages. I had to buy scissors to open something I bought once when I was traveling.  The scissors were so securely wrapped, I couldn’t open them either!

-0-

I am upset that the Washington Post is eliminating its sports page as it loses readers to Internet media. This newspaper has a sports page. Why can’t they? Then I thought: change is hard, especially for old people. Blacksmiths didn’t like automobiles. Our parents didn’t want to abandon typewriters  for computers. Got to adapt.

-0-

I loved the “American Revolution” series on PBS by Ken Burns. But in 12 hours of TV, why wasn’t there any mention of the Crossing of the Dan, when British couldn’t cross the Dan River, giving patriots time to regroup? Probably because nobody died.

-0-

Why do we always have to clean the house before the cleaning lady comes?
-0-

Why have  the  insignias for NFL teams replaced the team names and cities on most telecasts? I have not memorized those images.

-0-

Why is it that when you put two wires for your electronics in a box, they get hopelessly tangled up in no time at all?

-0-

I can’t believe that I walked out on my favorite jazz musician twice! Once Miles Davis’ mic was too loud and I left the show in Los Angeles. In Washington, I didn’t like it when he turned his back to the audience. But such a talent!

-0-

My pet peeve: News articles that water down shocking events. Why is a serious crime called an inncident?  Invasions and raids are called “operations.” To me, an operation is what happens in a hospital. Guess they are afraid of offending someone.

-0-

There is talk again about pprice controls because of the high cost of groceries. I covered the Council on Wage and Price Stability when controls were tried in 1979. They sound good, but believe me, they lead to shortages and don’t work!

-0-

“Frog and Toad” by Halifax County Little Theatre is a wonderful show to be enjoyed by adults and kids alike. And where else but in Southside can you leave your hat under your seat and have the director chase after you outside to give it back to you? The show continues at The Prizery this coming Friday,  Saturday and Sunday.

-0-

We routinely tell each other of our “best and worst” of the day at dinner when our grandchildren are here. My grandson Bryce came up with a great idea for breakfast: Predict what your best and worst of the day will be. That allows you to envision what you hope happens. Well, for the year, my best will be good health for everyone, peace in Ukraine, Venezuela, Israel/Gaza and Iran, and understanding and toleration of each other’s viewpoints in this country. Worst? Oh, none!

 

 

 

 

Age on stage: never too old?

What is it like being an octogenarian in a musical? Exciting. Fun. And exhausting.

I used my age (84) to persuade the Clarksville Community Players to let us stage “Guys and Dolls Sr.” this winter rather than wait until I really got old.

The show was a great success and a terrific experience. Here I was directing singers as music director when I might have been home in a rocking chair watching game shows on TV. I didn’t even need to play the piano—we had a recorded soundtrack from Music Theatre International.

Most fun were the auditions, in which I got to pass judgment on everyone, like Simon Cowell of “American Idol” (“Next!”) But we only got 19 applicants for 25 roles, so nobody was sent home.

With no experience as a conductor, I listened extensively and read the scores of such songs as “Luck Be a Lady” and “Sit Down, You’re Rockin’ the Boat.” With an old man’s memory, I never fully remembered the words until showtime.

Instructing the singers was a challenge since most of them insisted they didn’t know how to sing. (But they were wrong!) Director Monica Walter had to talk me into waving my hands to be beat. How do directors do that, turn the pages and signal louder or softer at the same time?

Then she suggested I should also be in the show since the non-singers could follow me. Well, that was really enjoyable. I even shaved off my beard to be more realistic as a gangster.

I looked a lot better in my loud, red sports coat and flashy pants than I do in real life. Well, so do most people in costume. The senior women dressed as bar-room dancers got to be 25 years old again.

It’s easy to make new friends when you are playing fictional roles and pushing hard like a sports team to make your event a success. Cast and crew all helped each other. I enjoyed working with the leading characters: Holly Stadtler, Colleen (Coco) Corrice, Preston Hubble and Greg Thrift.

Singing “Feud for Tinhorns” (“I got the horse right here”) with  Andrea Steehle and Gary Walter was so much fun! I embarrassed myself by missing a line on opening day but redeemed myself the next day.

My daughter and family came from South Carolina. The children loved the show and asked me later teach them “A Bushel and a Peck.” One of them was in a show last summer at the same venue, the Clarksville Fine Arts Center. I hope I am setting a good example.

Despite the thrills, my age did catch up with me. I did not have the get-up-and-go of the 55- or 60-something “kids.”. We limited rehearsals to about two afternoon hours several times a week. The show was cut by more than half to accommodate our memory and energy limitations. But it still wore me down, and it was no coincidence that I became ill several times through rehearsals.

I decided I would never do this again. Welll, until the closing show. Somehow we had pulled off a major miracle leading up to this point, taking a fairly inexperienced cast to excellence. It was exciting to  watch the theater fill up within 305 people over two days, coming just to see us. We got rave reviews.

There were more thrills: nailing a song you were never sure of felt like winning a gold medal at the Winter Olympics. Taking bows at t the end after singing a vigorous number. Greeting friends in the audience who came to see you.

And suddenly you realize that your 2 ½-month romp with the cast and crew is over. You say a lot of good things about them, and they say a lot of good things to you.

There is a cast party and they feel like your brothers and sisters, people you have seen lately more than your own family. It may be the last time you see them.

So you have dropped everything the last 2 ½  months: other social activities, travel and even your exercise class. You feel tired and wiped out but also exhilarated.  

You think, maybe, just maybe, with the declining years you have left,  on a smaller scale, you could possibly do this again.

Oh, and in case you want to see part of my act, click here. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ZqwvZT52jadx1hhSOEytJJkFJrkFeqDJ/view?usp=sharing

 

 

 

 

Aching back or not, the show must go on!

The local seniors in “Guys and Dolls Sr.” Aren’t as agile as they once were, but they make up for it in preparedness and enthusiasm.

“Some can’t get up and down like they used to, having  knee and back problems,” says director Monica Walter. “But when I see these actors moving around, I forget they are an older group. They are active and help each out, giving each other feedback and pointers.”

The show will be put on at 2 p.m. on Valentine’ Day, Saturday, Feb. 14, and on Sunday Feb. 15 at the Clarksville Fine Arts Center. Admission is free, but donations are welcomed for theater renovations.

The musical by Frank Loesser has been popular for 75 years, but for the first time a new version is being presented  for performers over age 55 across the country. This one is sponsored by the Clarksville Community Players.

Gamblers, mobsters and their girls will zbe portrayed by an experienced cast already familiar to Southside theater goers.

Among the local actors:

— Preston Hubble as Sky Masterson, the smooth-talking gambler who is trying to win a bet by seducing a Salvation Army missionary. Hubble was a rabbi in the recent “Fiddler on the Roof.”

—Holly Stadtler as Sarah Brown, the missionary who is intent on converting sinners like Masterson. She was a pilot in “South Pacific.”

—Greg Thrift as Nathan Detroit, who is anxiously looking for a place to stage his craps game. He was Stanford Adams in “Bright “Star” and Captain Brackett in “South Pacific.”

—Colleen (Coco) Corrice as Miss Adelaide, a dancer who has been trying for 14 years to get Nathan to marry her. Corrice appeared in “Christmas Belles” and was Mama Murphy in “Bright Star.”

The group authorizing these senior plays hopes the shows will reflect the joy of the actors who have gotten another chance to perform.

“For many, it is the return of a passion they didn’t know would be available to them in the third act of life,” says Jacob Cocovinis, marketing director of Music Theatre International (MTI.)

MTI made “Guys and Dolls” and four other abbreviated shows available at lower cost for theaters and seniors groups, along with scripts, background music and instructions.

To make the show more adaptable for seniors, it has been cut to just over an hour by MTI. The play and rehearsals have been set for afternoons, rather than at night.

How hard is it to remember lines? Hubble says, “At 70 my memory isn’t what it was at at 18, but I am able to recall the lines by visualizing he published script.”

What about the physical movements required in a show? You won’t see many of the crapshooters kneeling on the stage. Most challenging for seniors are probably the movements by Adelaide’s Hot Box dancers. Says Anne Smyre, “I have always loved to dance. At 82, it is so much fun to dance and swing.”

In some ways, older actors have an advantage. They have a better view of themselves at an advanced age and are less competitive.
“Uh, don’t be so sure of that!” says Smyre.

Guys and Dolls Sr. is presented through special arrangement with Music Theatre International (MTI). All authorized performance materials are also supplied by MTI.  wwwMTIShows.com.

 

Another year around the sun

Memorable birthdays:

Ages 1 to 9: I believe that the entire California rainy season falls on Feb. 5. It always rained. We hardly ever went outside.

Age 10: Maybe we should have stayed indoors. A brawl broke out in our backyard. At least the birthday boy wasn’t hurt.

Age 13: My father took us bowling. Before the age of pin-spotters, he had to put all of the bowling pins back himself. Fortunately, we didn’t hit many anyway.

Age 16: I made a bee-line to DMV to get my driver’s license. After that I was quite popular with 14 and 15 year-olds.

Age 21: My first legal visit to a bar was boring and disappointing.

Age 30: At Stowe ski resort, I danced vigorously with  20-somethings to prove I wasn’t getting old.

Age 38: I was stood up by my girlfriend after an argument. I spent my birthday alone.

Age 40: After I played music at my party, a better pianist sat in and upstaged me. Happy birthday, Mike!

Age 42: Pickett, a much better girlfriend, suggested we all dance to music from the new MTV. Kids came too. What fun!

Age 50: I was upset all day because my co-workers and my family did not wish me a happy birthday. That is, until the surprise party, when Pickett brought a cake to my work. I was in a state of shock.

Age 60: I was depressed about being old. Old? Sixty? Let me tell you about old, kid!

Age 70: The best birthday ever. Three other singers put on a concert with me at our house, and I played Broadway tunes in a sing-along. I sang “I’m StillHere,” probably a little prematurely.

Age 74: At the opening night of “1776,” the cast of McLean Community Players celebrated with me after the show.

Age 80: I sang “I’m Still Here” again, in a Zoom birthday party during the pandemic.

Age 84: I’m still here!

My snow experiences

 

Maybe I should have stayed in California. I never saw snow until we went sledding in the Sierra Nevada when I was 15.

So moving east, I had a number of bad encounters with the unfamiliar winter weather:

1965: Why scrape ice off your windshield? In Pittsburgh, I just tossed a bucket of hot water on it. Oh! It cracks? I never thought of that!

1966: I had the bright idea to drive from Pittsburgh to my new job in Portland, Oregon, in March. I got past Chicago and Minneapolis OK, but I wanted to look at Mount Rushmore. When I saw a snowflake fall on George Washington’s eye, it was too late. My U-Haul became unhitched, and I fell on ice while I put it back and broke a rib or two.

1975: I broke another rib at Aspen, Colo., when a cross-country guide took us down an icy road that turned to pavement and I fell. Oddly, that was my only ski injury ever. I went downhill skiing several hundred times and was never hurt.

1978: The President’s Day storm dropped 18 inches of snow in Arlington the day after a big party I held at my house with few visitors. I lived off the leftover chili a friend made for a week.

1987 (Nov. 11): The new company I worked for moved to Vienna, VA, from Boise, Idaho, and managers were surprised to see a foot of snow in Virginia on Veterans’ Day. No snow day for us! The boss picked us all up in his Range Rover to go to work.

2016: During a famous blizzard, my back went out the first time I dug a shovelful of snow. Pickett, who took over, vowed to move us out of our house into an apartment. We did, but we had little snow the five years we lived there.

2026: I became hysterical in Cluster Springs over a threatened snowstorm while Pickett was gone. Fortunately, the storm was a bust and I shouldn’t have worried so much. Where was Pickett? She fled to California, of course.

At least, in snow you often get pretty scenery. Then why, in about 65 years away from the Golden State, did I see only about three white Christmases?