Go Patterson!!!!!!!!

Yesterday it was announced that on June 17 it will become legal in California for couples of the same sex to marry. Hooray!!! Shortly following that state's annoucement of a, well, date... New York State Governor and sometime philanderer David Paterson directed state agencies including those governing insurance and health care to immediately change policies and regulations to recognize gay marriages. This is wonderful news and my potential boyfriends need take heed.

Oh course, the Conservative Party said today that it would challenge Patterson's decision. That's to be expected. But also expect me to resume the role of the sign-waving, protesting militant I played in my late thirties and early forties. Did anyone say Civil Disobedience? Why, it used to be my favorite flavor, thank you. Come back, YoungTim. You're being summoned!!!

Honestly, all our voices are needed. Contact Albany that you are thrilled with the decision. Let the Conservative Party know you will fight. And make sure they know WE WILL WIN!

"Beautiful Disaster"

Every now and then I hear a song that rocks my world in unexpected ways. I'll never forget hearing Rupert Holmes' "Moonfall" for the first time. Transporting. Shortly into the second half of A Class Act Randy Graff sang Edward Kleban's "The Next Best Thing to Love" and the world stopped spinning for a few minutes.

When Greta, one of my delicious kids at WECC, told me she would be singing a Kelly Clarkson ballad for Friday's talent show, I was nonplussed. I don't really know Kelly Clarkson beyond her ubiquitous first hit "A Moment Like This". I thought she was a pretty, unremarkable Mariah knockoff. So I was unprepared for the mondo response I've had to the song Greta brought me. "Beautiful Disaster", by Rebekah Jordan and Matthew Wilder, is a gorgeous piece of writing about a love that is undeniable, completely unmanagable, and probably impossible. I don't know why the this-love-is-doomed canon of American pop music appeals to me so, but it always has. And Jordan and Wilder have written the kind of lyric to which I automatically connect. Just look at the opening lines:

"HE DROWNS IN HIS DREAMS.
AN EXQUISITE EXTREME, I KNOW".

Later in the bridge they write:

"I'M LONGING FOR LOVE AND THE LOGICAL,
BUT HE'S ONLY HAPPY HYSTERICAL".

Near the end:

"HE'S SOFT TO THE TOUCH,
BUT FRAYED AT THE ENDS.
HE'LL BREAK.
HE'S NEVER ENOUGH,
AND STILL HE'S MORE THAN I CAN TAKE".

People who love me have been begging me for a long time to make some changes. Truly, I think I am. Things are better. I am better. The song just brought some clarity to me, that's all. Everyone should get to love someone they find beautiful. No one should have to cope with a disaster. It's a painful relief to start to understand.

Greta is 12 or so and much too young for me to explain to her that the song she taught me means something very personal. But I'll find a way to thank her. From the mouths of babes!

WECC Talent show reminder

Just wanted to mention again that the kids of West End Collegiate Church are struttin' their talent this coming Friday. The show, All God's Children Got Talent!!!!!, benefits the Collegiate Churches' ongoing mission to help rebuild New Orleans. It's ten bucks with dinner included. Come on over to West End and 77th street and spend your Friday with these great kids.

Hani

Yesterday I met one of my urban heroes, Hani, the man who creates those gorgeous chalk drawings all over the Upper West Side. I came out of my drug store at 110th and Broadway, and he was rendering Hillary Clinton in chalk. Normally his ouevre is more classical, with an emphasis on recreating the saints and patriarchs who adorn the Sistine Chapel in brilliantly colored chalks. He was charming (actually a real sweetheart) and quite appreciate of the fact that I am quite appreciate of him. His drawings have brightened my day for years. Keep it up, Hani. You rock!

Memorial Day: Boppo and Peonies and Michael John

I have such warm dear memories of Boppo, my mother's father, when Memorial Day comes around. This was back when Michael and I were tiny things. Before a Dan or a Jeff. On a Sunday afternoon Boppo would arrive with buckets of peonies - white and magenta and the gorgeous mixed - and about a dozen wire coat hangers. He'd take them to the basement, Momma fretting quite vocally every year about ants, and start his task. He knew exactly how he wanted the hangers bent. He was shaping them to both bundle together the blossoms with one end and create at the other a stake with which he could drive them into the ground. You see, they were devotions. This was when Memorial Day meant a day to honor your lost loved ones. Does anyone use it for that anymore?

Monday, and with my folks away at the Indy 500, Mommo would dress Michael and me to the nines (tiny black trench coats I recall), we'd pack the peonies into the trunk, and begin the long journey of visiting Minnie, Mommo's mother and leaving peonies at her grave. Boppo's sister Pearl, who died just after the first world war. Uncle Benny. People I can't even recall. Of course Joann and Virginia. They were the two girls Mommo and Boppo lost in the thirties and forties. Mommo would cry and Boppo would hold her. I thought it was beautiful.

And it was. Then there would be the Frisch's Big Boy for breakfast or lunch.

So that is what Memorial Day means to me. My adored Boppo and peonies and Michael in a black trench coat. And an enormous outpouring of love.

Feeding people.

I stopped cooking when my lover and I split. That had been my favorite thing to do for David: prepare something special just for him and nourish him. Roast four kinds of peppers over open flame. Peel and mash potatoes then make them obscene with butter and milk and nutmeg. Quiche. Key lime pie. Red Velvet Cake.

It would never occur to me to cook for myself (yes Wayne, my therapist knows) and in the past two years I have actually approached a stove maybe six times. But I sure did last night! My adored Abigail was coming over to sing and I wanted not just to feed her (I've done that at many a diner) but to actually take the time and care and love to cook for her. So the burner was lit and red and green and yellow and orange peppers roasted. Three white onions were sliced very thin and cooked till golden. I dredged two pounds of top round steak in flour and seasonings, browned them, cut them into strips and cooked them for three hours over very low flame with broth and beer and bay. Several sprigs of fresh thyme (just the smell made me nuts with delight). Green beans with a touch of garlic. Mashed potatoes. Biscuits. We truly feasted and as Abigail ate I got that well remembered and much missed glow of having fed someone I truly love. We ate so much we couldn't even look at the cheesecake I'd bought for dessert.

I'm remembering this morning that my favorite job I ever had was as director of the food pantry (now the Sylvia Rivera Memorial Food Pantry) at Metropolitan Community Church of New York. Between bag lunches and Sunday receptions and monthly neighborhood dinners and special events I served hundreds of meals a month. Momma would fly in a week in advance of holidays like Thanksgiving and Easter to help me cook for the four hundred people (many homeless) we would feed. It was a very special time for us.

So. Feeding people. It's mandated biblically. I am thinking this morning that it is a great privlege and a very pure way of expressing love through an act. I'm going to do it as often as I can.

This explains so much...

Cook pulled it off!!!!!!!!!

I was shocked and pleased. PP cried he was so delighted. I can't wait for the album and I might even go see the tour. Also, I loved the riffs on "Risky Business". I sure hadn't taken David Arculetta for a boxers guy. Or Cook for a briefs!

David vs. David

Cook or Archuletta, you ask?

Cook for me, all the way. There is something that seems so genuine and powerful yet vulnerable in his singing. David Archuletta strikes me as a bit manufactured or contrived.

I wish David Cook had reprised his "Eleanor Rigby". It just blew me away.

There you are.

Mary Feinsinger dot com...

Another one of those people I adore and never see is the brilliant songwriter Mary Feinsinger. I've always been a bit in awe of Mary's writing because it's so original and her lyrics are so funny (a quality never ascribed to my own).

Anyway, I just had a brief e-mail from the dazzling Ms. Feinsinger and it included a link to her website. Check it out. It's great! I covet again.

http://www.maryfeinsinger.com/

Jane Seaman's class

I had an absolute, unexpected blast last Thursday night at Jane Seaman's insightful musical theatre class. Jane had asked me to come in and hang out, listen to her students, present them some of my material. There were probably seven or so there and, amazingly, they all can sing. That is virtually unheard of in a musical theatre class. Some of them have huge Broadway belts and others more legit sounds. One young woman, Lauren, has enormous vocal range that she showed off in a Urinetown number . Another, Jaymee, great power and variety in her singing (and a knockout bod) in "Life of the Party". A young man named Johary is very pop-inflected (works for me!) and his rendition of "Only with You" from Nine was charming. Nikki, who looks like a tiny doll, belted the hell out of "Turn Back, O Man". Ruth did the best "Hold On" from Secret Garden I had ever heard. Deni rocked out a bit with "Part of Your World", which was surprisingly welcome. Sarah did a Tarzan number I didn't know very nicely. Alyssa sang "Don't Cry for Me Argentina" and made you forget you'd heard other people do it.

Then I got to present six of my songs for them, which I always enjoy. They seemed to respond well (okay okay okay --- they were HIGHLY complementary) and I hope they start, as I get them written down, to sing them.

And Jane is brilliant. The real deal. She's been teaching for years and knows her stuff, both material and technique, back and forth and up and down. The students seem to realize that. Isn't it funny - a week before she had been simply Samantha's mother to me. You sit by people at church, share lunch with them, and have no idea what their gifts are. Well, I know Jane's now and I am impressed.

Aaron's play

My buddy Aaron has directed a short piece that will be featured in this weekend's Lower East Side Festival of the Arts. His play is called The Fighter and the blurb he is sending 'round says:

"A young African-American man recounts a race-inspired conflict with cops that leads to a life changing discovery of being the champ. Excerpt from the full-length production (currently looking for a theater for a full performance) WRITTEN BY LAURENCE HOLDER"

It's scheduled to go up at 7:54pm on Saturday.

I've heard this festival is delish. Haven't decided if I'm staying in town, but if I do I will certainly go. Aaron is very supportive of my endeavors and I'd like to return the favor.

Eileen, Barbara Rose, PP and "Mistake"

Went to Eileen Macholl's home in Inwood yesterday after church for a sort of kitchen warming. She and her wonderful partner Barbara Rose (more on her in a minute) have lived there for many years, but they've undergone a gorgeous renovation of their kitchen and were celebrating it. Yes, I covet. Glass and stone and pebble. Dreamy.

I adore Eileen and she has been very good to me through my time at Auburn Seminary. Meeting her Barbara Rose was a treat. She is one of those people who seem to carry their expansive, generous spirit draped easily around their shoulders. Beautiful energy. Someone special.

Eileen had made a point of asking me to bring Peter (you know, the Peter Proctor?) so that was fun. After we'd been there an hour, Eileen asked PP to sing something, so he did an a capella rendition of "My First Mistake" and it was absolutely gorgeous. I was proud of him and proud of the song. Peter and I have known each other for two intense years now and I thing we're around for the long haul. And he sure can sing my songbook like nobody else!

Talent Show at WECC

Heads up: The kids are doing a fundraiser May 30. It should be good.

All
God’s
Children
Got
Talent!!!!!


The Collegiate Kids in a celebration
of music, joy, and fellowship
to help fund the Collegiate Churches’ mission
to help rebuild New Orleans

Friday, May 30th
7pm
$10
Dinner included

Friday with the WECC kids

Friday night I ran from the seminary at 5pm, got to WECC about 5:40, kids started arriving around 6pm, and by 6:45 my friends and I had fed 30 people, suited them up for the rain, and marched them over to the Loews at 68th Street and Broadway to see Prince Caspian.

The movie is what it is. Pretty. Forgettable. Too long, too loud, way to much battling for me. I don't respond well to people hitting people in films (or in life, of course) and there are some wallops in this movie. But, I love the WECC kids and they loved the film. Not to mention the concession stand.

My life has been much enriched for working this year with the kids community at West End Collegiate Church. I was reluctant initially to give up the amount of time the church expected, but what a blessing these kids are in my life. I'm glad the summer is coming and the schedule lightens, but I can't deny I will miss the kids through the summer.

But I am taking a group of them to New Orleans to help rebuild in August, which will be cool.

Anyway, Prince Caspian: C+. WECC kids: Priceless.

The great news out of California!

Hallelujah.

Yesterday the California Supreme Court ruled that banning same-sex couples from marriage was unconstitutional and not in keeping with the state's political ethic. That makes California (the world's 8th largest economy) the 2nd state to legalize gay marriage following Massachusettes' revolutionary stand. Mitt Romney, by the way, fought that legislation tooth and nail only to fail to overturn the new law.

Okay New York. Follow suit. It is inevitable. It is humane and it is human. It is the only right thing to do.

Not that all gays are interested. The very first disagreement David and I ever had was over my wanting a commitment ceremony and his reticence. Part of it arose from family differences and the leanings of friends. David felt my family would be flying in for meetings with the caterer and florist and my friends throwing showers while most of his family would refuse to attend and his friends would roll their eyes. But it is very important to me. Much more than I realized even a few years ago.

So, believe me, the next time I see a guy for more than just a few casual dates, he is going to be asked if he is the marrying kind. And, if wants me around, he'd better be!

Blame Syesha Mercado

I am one of those people who goes around singing quietly under his breath. A lot. Most of the time. Okay, chronically. I am also one of those people who hear a specific tune and then proceed to sing it - unaware, mind you - for days on end. When one of my coworkers asked a bit ago, "Why have you been singing "Fever" for two days?" I wasn't sure. Then it occurred to me that Syesha Mercado, the impossibly beautiful young woman who was booted last night from American Idol, sang it Tuesday and I have probably been doing it constantly since.

So Blame Syesha Mercado.

At least it exorcized "Bali H'ai" from the corner of my brain that it had occupied since Sunday.

Musical Theatre Audition Workshop tonight

I'm excited about attending Jane Seaman's musical theatre acting and audition technique workshop tonight. Something like a dozen young actors, mostly early to mid-twenties, gather to rehearse material, work moments, learn those helpful little vocal tricks. I was asked to attend tonight to hear them and enter into the critique from a songwriter's point of view. When they are done I've expected to regale them with half a dozen numbers to expose them to new work. That will be fun. I'm opening with "Waterloo" and "The Golden Boy of Ames" from Iowa 08, then "When I Imagined Me" and "My First Mistake" from The Conjuring, and I will close with "When You Loved Me" and "The Man Reading Kafka on the Train" from Sylvia So Far. I've gotten to the point where I adore opportunities to perform my stuff and, in the case of girl songs like "Waterloo" and "Imagined Me", classes and seminars create the chance to sing songs I couldn't perform at, say, Don't Tell Mama. So tonight should be fun. And I think I'll drop off at Suite afterwards for a quick drink.

And Timothy Mathis as Dainty June

How, perhaps you ask, did a gorgeous red-haired 23 year old babe and a very well-preserved, still attractive 50 year old man end up onstage at Jazz at Lincoln Center’s Allen Room, belting all the hell out of “If Momma Was Married” from Gypsy?

Cause that’s what happened Sunday afternoon when the ravishing (she never looked better than she did Sunday) Miss Abigail Taylor played Louise to my deeply felt Dainty June.

Well, it’s Michael Mathis’ doing. My brother produces really neat things like Broadway On Broadway in Times Square and really arduous things like the New York City Marathon. Under the banner of really neat, Sunday night he did the Visa Signature Tony Awards Preview Concert in that gorgeous space in the Time Warner building where the stage is backed by a wall of glass looking onto Central Park. It takes your breath away. The event is a concert that airs on CBS June 7th to kick off Tony week and cast members of 6 of the season’s 8 new musicals and all 4 revivals performed. But for the afternoon camera tech they needed two stand-ins with big Broadway voices to walk through the show and sing it!!! Michael was certain he could think of somebody.

So at 4:30 Sunday afternoon Abigail and I show up dressed to the nines, we’re thrown up on the stage, handed a piece of music from “In the Heights” and told, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t know it. Sing anything into the microphones while the band plays”. And that is exactly what we did. I’m standing onstage in a purple spotlight at Jazz at Lincoln Center, accompanied by 8 brilliant Broadway musicians, bopping and scatting and belting something about opening a fire hydrant and running from the cops.

Somewhere around 5pm Abigail took to the microphone to do Ariel the mermaid’s “Part of Your World”. Right about “You want thing-a-ma-bobs? I got twenty!” I realized the room, buzzing a moment before with production assistants and crew and press people and various whoevers, had stopped cold and every eye had turned to the stage to watch my little love. Halfway through the number, Michael’s assistant turned to him way atop the theatre and asked “Why is the mermaid here so early to do the sound check?” Michael said “She isn’t the mermaid”. The assistant: “Well, she should be!” Abigail finished and got something akin to an ovation. I welled up. It was neat.

The rehearsal flew by as I took to the stage to do “Bali H’ai” and made up complete nonsense sounds for Passing Strange and Xanadu. I sang a very tentative “Finishing the Hat”. Abby stopped the place cold again with “Hopelessly Devoted to You” and we ended with our delicious romp through the Gypsy duet. I may return to the stage to fully realize my Dainty June. I think I owe it to the theatre.

So the show is great. I was proud of Michael and proud of Abigail and, frankly, proud of myself. I’m likin’ life right now.

Okay, here's a tease...

Picture this: Abigail Taylor and Timothy Mathis all dressed up, onstage at Jazz at Lincoln Center's Allen Room high above Central Park, belting out "If Momma Was Married" from Gypsy! and actually being paid for it!!! She was Louise and I was June.

I will tell you more soon.

The Tony Noms

All things Tony always have at least a whiff of holiday about them for me. I love this time in the theatre season when everything has opened (and, in the case of Glory Days, closed) and we hold our breath as Outer Critics and Drama Desks and Dramas Leagues and God knows what else lead to that night... The Tony Awards!!!!

Noms are out today and it's pretty much what I expected. It's probably a given that the awards for new shows will focus on In The Heights and August: Osage County. The revivals are trickier, with Gypsy, Sunday in the Park and South Pacific all having received raves as did MacBeth, Boeing-Boeing and The Homecoming. I was disappointed that the Cyrano revival, which I adored, was overlooked.

Another surprise for me was Cry-Baby landing a Best Musical nomination in the spot I thought would be occupied by A Catered Affair. I was glad they remembereed David Pittu in Is He Dead? I'd expected Jackie Hoffman and Mary Testa to show up on the Featured Actress list, but I truly hope that award goes this year to Laura Benanti who is deliciously nuanced in Gypsy.

I hear Passing Strange is wonderful. That will be next for me.

And I MUST MUST MUST tell you about Sunday night when I have time. I got to play Dainty June!!!

The lovely Lisa...

I had a completely unexpected opportunity to catch up with Lisa Riegel Friday afternoon. We did coffee and chat. What a cool lady. Lisa has done so much singing for me. She created the tougher of the two prosties who distract a kid on Coney Island with disastrous results in Sirens, was a delicious hair stylist in Sammy and Delia, has done the femmier Mary to Ruth Weber's Martha in "Household", the lesbian love duet that stops Our Story Too. They've done that one maaaany times. And Lisa does a gorgeous rendition of "My First Mistake".

Ms. Riegel and her yummy husband Arthur are on that list of people I have that says "Spend more time with..." but, you know, it's new York, we're all crazy busy, blah blah blah.

So it was lovely to sit for an hour and catch up. There was much to say.

Mothers Day at WECC

The kids at West End Collegiate church did it again.

My part time gig is leading the youth for this congregation in music and developing programs that support the already deep sense of community these kids feel. Many of them have known each other all their lives.

Yesterday morning they serenaded their mothers and it was gorgeous. 8-year-old John David McInerny, who was baptized later in the service, opened with a solo rendition of "Let There be Peace on Earth" (he rocked) then the eighth graders in the group gave short testimonials about why their mothers are special. At that point the combined children sang "Let There Be Peace on Earth", John David did a riff on the end, and the congregation burst into applause. They don't applaud EVER at WECC, so that was a big deal to the kids. At the end of the number I looked out and lots of the folks were in tears. It was sweet.

Mmmmm! Pie!

The kids were over for dinner Tuesday night. That would be Abigail and Michael, whose combined ages do not equal my own. Hence, the kids. Anyway, Miss Taylor brought one of my favorite things: pecan pie. It's my favorite pie, or at least in a dead heat with crumb topped cherry. This is the recipe I use, which I like because I love the molasses flavor in the custard.

So, pecan pie. It's not just for Thanksgiving anymore!

2 large eggs

1 cup light corn syrup (though I have been known to use the decadent dark on occasion).

1/4 cup brown sugar (light or dark again. Your choice)

1/4 dark molasses (no options here. I like it dark!)

2 Tbsp melted unsalted butter

2 Tbsp flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vanilla (I tried almond once and it was strange. Stick with vanilla)

1 1/4 cups pecans (I combine whole and chopped).
1 9-inch pie shell (which I hardly ever make myself).

Spread the pecans in the shell. Combine everything else with a whisk and pour over the nuts. Bake at 375 for 50 minutes or so. It might still be a bit wobbly in the center. That's fine. It will set.

Now, how simple is that?

A couple of times I've mixed in a bit of nutmeg or cinnamon but it really isn't necessary. I've also a recipe for fudge pecan pie that I'll share another time.

Update on "Sylvia So Far"

For all of you who ask (and I'm always delighted when you do) here is the skinny on what's happenin' with Sylvia So Far. There will be another invited reading on either the 2nd or 4th of June and any money people you think we should invite will be welcome. At this junture it is scheduled to be done in the reading room at BMI but that still needs to be verified. All of the cast from January would like to return but schedules are being checked. The show will be helmed this time around by Elizabeth London, a director who has wonderful ideas about the structure of the piece. I've done some rewriting and reformating. The role of Teddy is being focused and beefed up a bit, Sylvia is getting some new material, major changes and tiny tweaks. When I know more I will let you know.

Discovering the people you think you know...

Michael Santora is someone I knew fondly and casually and really very little yesterday. Nice guy, boyfriend of one of my dear friends, good buddy of Peter's. I knew he had a beautiful voice, sweet nature, funny wit. Michael has done some singing for me and will be included in one of the upcoming recording sessions for the "Miracle Time" CD.

Well, today Michael Santora and I had lunch together. We've never had the time to talk just us about anything. And it was a fantastic experience. We jabbered and fretted about everything and discovered layers of common experience that astonished me. And wow, we could not be more different. He's a tall, young, dark, heterosexual ex-football player and I am not. But discovering who he is today was unexpected and fascinating and lovely. What a deeply feeling, emotionally articulate, wonderful man.

Don't get me wrong. I have always thought Michael a great guy. But I didn't know he is a GREAT guy. And he will do beautiful things. I can't wait to watch.

Peter Proctor's dance class

I totally forgot to blog about this.

Last Saturday I tagged along to Peter Proctor's "Dance for the Danceless" class. That isn't what it's really called, but it is a class designed to teach basic dance and movement skills to actors and singers who aren't exactly triple threats. That's a great idea. It was their annual "show off what you really do" party and Peter wanted to sing "When You Loved Me" from Sylvia So Far.

But first they danced and it was lovely. They waltzed! They stood in a circle, men inside, women out, waltzed for four bars and at the end of every fourth bar the man twirled the girl under his arm and sent her on to the next man. It was so pretty. I just watched and loved.

Then they strutted out what they really do. These people are talented. Funny, witty, charming, absolutely great voices. And I was, as always, very proud to have PP do that song. It was written specifically for him to sing and he does it breathtakingly. One of the SSF reviews called it "an American Idolesque ballad" and I take no issue with that.

It was great fun and the cauliflower pizza was delish.

Oh that controversial Bambi!

I have read several articles recently arguing the veracity of Walt Disney's depiction of the natural world in animated film, with most of the debate centered on Bambi. Interesting. For the smart NY Times angle, go to http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/23/books/23bambi.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=Bambi&st=nyt&oref=slogin.

I remember an article several years ago about homoerotic undertones in the thicket. It actually was a pretty hilarious article and I wish had kept it.

My bottom line: Bambi is a work of art. Not a nature documentary. Not a fore runner of queer cinema. Not even a faithful rendering of the book. Just its own remarkable, breathtaking work of art. Leave that poor deer alone!

Does this man look FIFTY???

Okay, okay, okay. I'm only 49. But 50 is lurking around the corner. I think I am okay with it. For one thing, the Sex and the City girls were on Oprah yesterday (well, maybe not yesterday - we TiVO everything) and they announced that 50 is the new 25.

I can work with that.

Dinner with my darlin'

I've realized several times in the past few very busy weeks that there are amazing blessings in my life. I am healthy, I have more wonderful friends than I can ever see on a regular basis. There is a roof over my head and clothes (some of them quite nice) on my back and food in my tummy. God gave me talents and I get to use them. I affect lives by what I do at both my full time job at the seminary and the part time gig at the church. People sing my songs and tell me they love them. My libido hasn't gone through its midlife crisis yet. I still have one of my parents and we talk every day. My siblings are thriving. Life is good. Yes, I am busier than I would pick, but everything is getting done and there seems to be more and more joy in my day.

I'm making a list of some things I want to when I turn fifty (or even before). Silly things. Important things. Wonderful things. I'll be sharing some of them with you in the months ahead.

These are things I've been thinking about today because I had a wonderful, deep, heartfelt dinner last night with my adored Abigail. We were enumerating the good things in our lives and had to agree that, while there are always stumbles, life is pretty damed good.

I adore you, Miss Taylor. Everything is going to be wonderful...

Okay okay okay!!!

Yes, I hear your complaints. I've been busy! Yes, I will try very hard to post something of meaning and substance today. I'm just delighted that so many of you actually read my blog.