Readers Theater

I spent the early part of this evening with my Library buddies at the Guerneville Regional Library at their lone and delayed production of some of this years Reader’s Theater plays.  It was an enjoyable hour from 7 to 8.  The one-act plays were cute, pointed, and short.  It was a one-time performance; so, tune in next year when there will be more plays and more performances.  An appreciative audience packed the Maggie Boynton Forum room with over sixty attendees, many of the literati of Guerneville.

That left me at home with no playoffs, and many things cancelled because of high-water.  So, I found a movie, of course an old movie, 1932 “Forbidden” with Barbara Stanwyck (already a leading star at 25 in her 16^th film), and Adolphe Menjou, at 42 in his 81^st film, as an “older” man.  Frank Capra was 35, and this was his 19^th film.  He authored the story and directed it.  It was a wining theme – girl falls in love, has a baby, sticks by her man, suffers, but the child comes first. 

The plot line won academy awards that year for Helen Hayes in “The Sin of Madelon Claudet” and Marie Dressler in “Emma”.  But of course, silent picture had seasoned these stars, and the academy paid its due.  Capra’s story was hasty and not well thought out.  These actors were good, but not yet well-developed enough for Oscars.  This is worth watching for that very reason: a young Capra, directing an ingenue like Stanwyck, and now using the aging Menjou as a stability factor in the theme.  A seminal film for many persona like Stanwyck and Capra, but also for Hollywood as it thrust the final nail in the coffin of silents, and welcomed in the new casts of young people into stardom.

81st Birthday Thoughts

No talk of birds and bees.  I saw a bird at Safeway this afternoon and she even cheeped at me.  Alas, while still allured by the honey on the vine, I have forgotten the pleasure of the wine.

No, even though I should be thinking of wine, women, and song, (or even a forthcoming Warriors sweep), my pleasure and reflections tonight turn to my grand jury involvement.

Distracted by growing awareness of the impacts to me of the recent flood, I let slide some of my duties and responsibilities to Sonoma County’s grand jury (GJ) system.  I was awakened in a recent State Association video conference call for a comment on how my small portion of a call-around was proceeding, I said, “I don’t have that in front of me now”, and frantically wrote action item notes for myself to do something.

That was last week, and I’ve done all the things I was supposed to have.  In the process, I’ve learned that Marin and Napa counties were recently in the throes of what I have aspired to accomplish in Sonoma County – a partnership with the county courts to recruit and interview candidates for prospective grand jurors.  Each County chapter’s new President was a boomer, who had an energetic team of past grand jurors.  I also learned about Solano county’s fall.  I interviewed every member of Solano County’s now defunct chapter.

The difference between these success and failure cases, I am betting, is energetic and inspirational leadership.  CGJA have asked me to lead a Chapter President’s breakfast meeting for the California Grand Jury Association (CGJA) annual meeting in Sacramento next October.  I was going to pull together 3-4 standard GJ topics for each table to discuss while we ate breakfast, and then moderate the table by table thoughts and ideas.

I’m now thinking of writing a speech, which I’m good at, (but which usually gets me in trouble), to stir change in thinking, and take risks for rewards, and to honor the proven leaders.  There are 27 chapters (for 58 counties), [there’s a challenge already], and I know of, and will find, more, who are excelling in what they do.  I will let them tell their stories

Exit West (Redux)

Summary  (I want to make three points)

“Confessions of an Opium Eater”

What are the doors?  Is the cell phone a door?

We murder those we leave behind.

Talking Points

“Confessions of an Opium Eater” by de Quincey, 1821, London.  This book wrote of travels thru space & time presaging dystopian Sci-Fi.

The doors are barriers, welcoming or hindering.  Walls, gates, passwords, front doors, laws, back doors, and side doors, representing all the myriad ways that have contributed to the modern world of nativism versus migratory lifestyles.  Nativism is an Imperial hangover: having taught the world that Europe was the best; now everyone wants to come there.  The modern solar-powered, cell-based telephone has severed connection with physical wires/cables; receiving its power through batteries rejuvenated magically by the sun, just as is man himself.  Messages, communications in a myriad of forms; voice or visual, transmitted through mysterious, unseen, unheard, electromagnetic waves, like in an ethereal séance with incorporeal beings, ghosts from all over the universe of time and space.  [See Phone Future * next page].

I am from Detroit, a WASP family: mother (Omaha 700 m. from home), Father (Cleveland 200 m. from home).  They migrated to the BIG city after college.

We all migrated after WWII to California (2400 m.).

My Mother died at 100.  At her funeral, I spoke of her extended family, which had grown to members from: Viet Nam [Vong: Foreign Exchange 60’s, CIA 70’s, Reeducation 80’s, Tourism 90’s Immigration 2010], Germany [My 1^st Ex, Gisela], Guatemala [My Grand-daughter’s Father, Melvin], Britain [My 3^rd Ex in England and her child, Marisol], Chile [My Ex’s Ex and her child’s Father, Gregorio], and Mexico [My sister’s grandchild’s husband, Jose, & Family].

We left Detroit when I was nine.  I had dozens of childhood friends, and well knew my parent’s friends, relatives, and co-workers.  I never saw, spoke or wrote to any of them ever again.  Detroit was dead to us all.  [see ** Memoirs next page].  The family all developed new friends, relationships, and co-workers. 

I am an immigrant, from East to West.

No one migrates to the East;

is that why the title Exit West?

* Phone Future    I fully believe that before I die (and I have turned 81 this month), I will be able to “dial” a number on a smart phone and view, speak or text with an AI version of “My Mother”, “My Sister”, or “My Self”.  All for a reasonable price.

WHY DISAPPEAR ONE DAY?

Your FB legend account can represent you forever.

Talk about legacy!!!

The more you give us, the better your image will be.

Don’t Spare the Bits & Bytes.  Tell ALL.

We use voice, video, DNA, pictures, writings, memoirs.

We will infuse you with character and charisma.

Users will be able to specify age when calling you up.

** Memoirs    Never again is not quite true.  After fifty years, while my father’s generation was dying off, I wrote a memoir, spanning 1935-1950.  This encompassed my parents’ marriage, pregnancy with me and my sister, moving around Detroit, the war years, and the move to California.  It was an elaborate memoir containing photographs of all those friends, co-workers, and family, maps; and pictures of all our houses; letters, back and forth during the war, and back and forth after the move; interspersed with a few memoir stories that I had written about those times.  It was a treasure trove of memories.  But like most amateur memoirs, few are interested in the details of one’s life.  I did find two people, to each of whom I sent a copy, and received a teary-eyed thank you letter from both.  One was the son of my father’s boss in Detroit.  He was a few years older than I and relished those years.  The other was my father’s business partner, who also moved from Detroit to California, and was also in his seventies.  Both served in WW-II.

We all traveled extensively after California, but never to Detroit.  I only visited Detroit once; I took the train with my father just before he died.  Detroit was dead; only half the population of the war years; and scary for WASPs.

Peter in the Mirror

This is the way I see myself,
in the morning,
before I put in my contact lenses.
no wrinkles, all muscle.