A good head and a good heart are always a formidable combination.
Nelson Mandela
********************
I love my life because it is life living. I love my mind because it is mind thinking. I love my heart because it is love loving.
I once read an essay where it was asked why the Japanese gentleman always puts his shoes together when he takes them off. The answer was that it would never occur to him not to.
I have known a few people who I would characterize as genuinely good. One of them was Ben. Ben spent his whole life in show business. As a child and young adult he was an entertainer, a singer performing with variety shows and on the circuits. Later he became an executive in the motion picture business. He was a religious man of deep, unshakeable faith. He treated everyone with kindness, forgiveness and respect. He never did a mean thing in his life. Why did he go through life being a gentle, good person? I think it was because it never occurred to him not to.
People like Ben are a life lesson for me. I wish I could be more loving and forgiving of others, but when the frustrations of life kick in and the rage bubbles up I forget about Ben and the others who manage to be beacons of positive behavior in the dark. I think it's a question of focus. The special, spectacular idiot with my name on him is always there, just under the surface, to rant, rage and get destructive. I know he's there and so I spend a lot of energy avoiding him. What that means is that a certain portion of my being is focused down the well of unhappiness. I haven't yet reached the Elysian fields where such things don't occur to me.
One of the big traps to snare me is my habit of getting enraged and frightened by political, social and world events. Ben never concerned himself with any of those things, never defended or attacked. He had his job which he loved. He had his family which he loved. He had his religion which loved. He had his music which he loved. He surrounded himself with love. He would never allow anything inharmonious or disturbing to enter that love. It would never occur to him. He faced the same troubles in his life that everyone else does but they didn't trouble him. His faith and his love were too strong. I admire Ben.
I am trying to anchor myself in the same sort of faith and love, to treat everyone with respect even if they seem not to deserve it, to love my enemies, to behave with equanimity, patience, a good mind and a good heart.
DB - The Vagabond
Never Give up
*************************
SUMMER QUESTION
The end of Summer is fast approaching, people.
It's a long, hot, sticky summer, so here's a hot, sticky question for you.
Same sex marriage. Should it be legal or not? If so, why? If not, why not?
dbdacoba@aol.com
21 interesting answers so far.
You have until the last day of summer, but don't dally.
I eagerly await your answer.
DB
************************
Showing posts with label show business. Show all posts
Showing posts with label show business. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Show Them
For he who'd make his fellow creatures wise should always gild the philosophic pill.
W. S. Gilbert
**********************
William Gilbert wrote the book and lyrics for some the most famous musical comedies of all time. Gilbert and Sullivan operettas are still performed the world over. The quote from above is sung by Jack Point, a jester, and probably the one character closest to Gilbert himself.
Years ago I was involved in a project involving theatre in the schools. It was discovered in one state that the students who could not connect one idea with another and follow a thread of logic in any particular subject, history, math, geography, whatever, were able to do it automatically when they saw a play. When subjects were dramatized for them in that way, their learning was fast and correct. Many teachers came to learn the techniques, many refused. Those with ability and an open mind learned it well, others did not.
Unfortunately there is a lot of prejudice against theatre in this country. There are those, some of them intelligent and well educated, who won't go to the theatre, talk to actors or discuss the art of acting. I have heard and read the most ridiculous reasons why one should not pursue anything that smacks of that "devil's workshop known as show business."
When there was a recession happening one year at a local high school they canceled the theatre program to save the electricity, but they retained the basketball program, where all the lights blazed. Though I know there are many, I am not qualified to discuss the merits of basketball. I'll leave that up to the Phys Ed teachers.
But I am qualified to discuss the merits of theatre. Within the context of a play an actor has no limitations of behavior. He is entitled to be the hero, or the villain, the seducer, the victim, the cop or the jester. From all the roles I've played, following the psychological threads that made the man a good man or an evil man, the special theatrical glamorization of ideas, the gilding of the philosophic pill and the thrill of discovery about myself have made me wiser about the human race and many other subjects than if I had shunned "the devil's workshop."
It's called Show Business because we don't lecture you, we show you.
-------------------------
Never give up
DB - Vagabond Journeys
****************************
SUMMER QUESTION
It's a long, hot, sticky summer, so here's a hot, sticky question for you. Don't let the recent New York State decision rob you of your thunder.
Same sex marriage. Should it be legal or not? If so, why? If not, why not?
dbdacoba@aol.com
12 answers so far.
You have until the last day of summer, but don't dally.
I eagerly await your answer.
DB
************************
W. S. Gilbert
**********************
William Gilbert wrote the book and lyrics for some the most famous musical comedies of all time. Gilbert and Sullivan operettas are still performed the world over. The quote from above is sung by Jack Point, a jester, and probably the one character closest to Gilbert himself.
Years ago I was involved in a project involving theatre in the schools. It was discovered in one state that the students who could not connect one idea with another and follow a thread of logic in any particular subject, history, math, geography, whatever, were able to do it automatically when they saw a play. When subjects were dramatized for them in that way, their learning was fast and correct. Many teachers came to learn the techniques, many refused. Those with ability and an open mind learned it well, others did not.
Unfortunately there is a lot of prejudice against theatre in this country. There are those, some of them intelligent and well educated, who won't go to the theatre, talk to actors or discuss the art of acting. I have heard and read the most ridiculous reasons why one should not pursue anything that smacks of that "devil's workshop known as show business."
When there was a recession happening one year at a local high school they canceled the theatre program to save the electricity, but they retained the basketball program, where all the lights blazed. Though I know there are many, I am not qualified to discuss the merits of basketball. I'll leave that up to the Phys Ed teachers.
But I am qualified to discuss the merits of theatre. Within the context of a play an actor has no limitations of behavior. He is entitled to be the hero, or the villain, the seducer, the victim, the cop or the jester. From all the roles I've played, following the psychological threads that made the man a good man or an evil man, the special theatrical glamorization of ideas, the gilding of the philosophic pill and the thrill of discovery about myself have made me wiser about the human race and many other subjects than if I had shunned "the devil's workshop."
It's called Show Business because we don't lecture you, we show you.
-------------------------
Never give up
DB - Vagabond Journeys
****************************
SUMMER QUESTION
It's a long, hot, sticky summer, so here's a hot, sticky question for you. Don't let the recent New York State decision rob you of your thunder.
Same sex marriage. Should it be legal or not? If so, why? If not, why not?
dbdacoba@aol.com
12 answers so far.
You have until the last day of summer, but don't dally.
I eagerly await your answer.
DB
************************
Friday, July 22, 2011
Curtain Up Anyhow
If you want to do something, you do it anyway, and handle the obstacles as they come.
Benny Goodman
******************************
Here are 2 true show biz stories.
If you described show business to an actuary or a systems engineer they would tell you that it doesn't work, it can't work, don't try it. And yet, in spite if the impossibilities, the curtains go up and the shows go on.
I was dong a long running show in New York. The cast was three men and one woman. The actress had a physical problem that sometimes incapacitated her, so she needed to have an understudy. I helped to audition the understudy and had only one rehearsal with her. She attended every performance but never had to play the role.
Until one evening well into the run I was sitting in the dressing room and outside the door I saw her looking at the call board which is where the actors sign in and check for any notes they might need. I asked her if she was playing that night. She turned with a smile and said "Yup."
She was Miss Cool. I had two very difficult scenes with her. She played them beautifully, as if she had been doing them all along, without the slightest slip up. I wanted her to take over the role. But she eventually got a real acting job and left the show. I heard that she went to California and was working out there. She was quickly replaced by another understudy who was fine.
Actors usually take a role and play it until the show closes. In the case of a long running Broadway show they may play for a year or so and then be replaced by a fresh face. If they work on a film their job is done when their last scene is shot.
With opera singers it's very different in many ways. A singer usually develops a catalogue of roles that fit his vocal range and then sings those roles at various opera houses, wherever he can.
There was an opening night of a new production of a popular opera at a New York City opera company. When the conductor arrived he was informed that the tenor was ill and would not be able to sing that night. So the conductor went to the understudy to discuss some parts of the opera, interpretations, tempo, dynamics and so forth. Just before the performance began he was told the original tenor was feeling better and would sing after all. So he went to talk with that tenor about the dynamics and interpretations, and so forth.
When the opera was about to begin the conductor went to the pit, led the orchestra through the rather long overture and when the curtain went up the tenor who stepped on the stage was a total stranger, a third man It was someone the conductor didn't know and had never met. He didn't even know the man's name. And that was the tenor who sang the opening night.
The show can't go on. Show business doesn't work, it won't work, it can't work. But it does.
DB - The Vagabond
Never give up.
**************************
SUMMER QUESTION
It's a long, hot, sticky summer, so here's a hot, sticky question for you. Don't let the recent New York State decision rob you of your thunder.
Same sex marriage. Should it be legal or not? If so, why? If not, why not?
dbdacoba@aol.com
10 answers so far.
You have until the last day of summer, but don't dally.
I eagerly await your answer.
DB
************************
Benny Goodman
******************************
Here are 2 true show biz stories.
If you described show business to an actuary or a systems engineer they would tell you that it doesn't work, it can't work, don't try it. And yet, in spite if the impossibilities, the curtains go up and the shows go on.
I was dong a long running show in New York. The cast was three men and one woman. The actress had a physical problem that sometimes incapacitated her, so she needed to have an understudy. I helped to audition the understudy and had only one rehearsal with her. She attended every performance but never had to play the role.
Until one evening well into the run I was sitting in the dressing room and outside the door I saw her looking at the call board which is where the actors sign in and check for any notes they might need. I asked her if she was playing that night. She turned with a smile and said "Yup."
She was Miss Cool. I had two very difficult scenes with her. She played them beautifully, as if she had been doing them all along, without the slightest slip up. I wanted her to take over the role. But she eventually got a real acting job and left the show. I heard that she went to California and was working out there. She was quickly replaced by another understudy who was fine.
Actors usually take a role and play it until the show closes. In the case of a long running Broadway show they may play for a year or so and then be replaced by a fresh face. If they work on a film their job is done when their last scene is shot.
With opera singers it's very different in many ways. A singer usually develops a catalogue of roles that fit his vocal range and then sings those roles at various opera houses, wherever he can.
There was an opening night of a new production of a popular opera at a New York City opera company. When the conductor arrived he was informed that the tenor was ill and would not be able to sing that night. So the conductor went to the understudy to discuss some parts of the opera, interpretations, tempo, dynamics and so forth. Just before the performance began he was told the original tenor was feeling better and would sing after all. So he went to talk with that tenor about the dynamics and interpretations, and so forth.
When the opera was about to begin the conductor went to the pit, led the orchestra through the rather long overture and when the curtain went up the tenor who stepped on the stage was a total stranger, a third man It was someone the conductor didn't know and had never met. He didn't even know the man's name. And that was the tenor who sang the opening night.
The show can't go on. Show business doesn't work, it won't work, it can't work. But it does.
DB - The Vagabond
Never give up.
**************************
SUMMER QUESTION
It's a long, hot, sticky summer, so here's a hot, sticky question for you. Don't let the recent New York State decision rob you of your thunder.
Same sex marriage. Should it be legal or not? If so, why? If not, why not?
dbdacoba@aol.com
10 answers so far.
You have until the last day of summer, but don't dally.
I eagerly await your answer.
DB
************************
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Give Up
If you're trying to invent something new,
you're going to reach a lot of discouraging points
and most people give up.
Steve Lacy
***********************************
It's okay to give up. Giving up is fine. Giving up is good. I give up several times a day. When the pen falls on the floor and disappears into the black hole, I give up looking for it. I gave up trying to get my scanner to work so I could post some pictures in my journal. I gave up trying to get my computer started. I gave up trying to finish the painting .Everything I have and I've done I gave up on.
What giving up does is to relieve the growing emotions like frustration, desperation and rage. It enables one to let go of the trash that's gathering at the front door of one's thinking. It then enables one to open the door and let fresh air into the mind. It thumbs its nose at failure and disappointment. It justifies tears.
But if you don't take yourself too seriously, it also enables you to go back and start over. The air is cleared, the bonds have been removed and the fog has drifted away. It's a splendid emotional cleaning. It can help to turn misery into joy.
This afternoon I watched a friend accidentally drop a small piece of her telephone as she was trying to assemble it. It fell to the floor and disappeared. She was angry and frustrated because she couldn't find it. Groping around on the floor in the only places it could be just made her more upset. Finally she gave up. We had a chat, shared a few laughs and she went and sat down. From her chair she could see under a cabinet and there was the piece she had been looking for. Not where it should logically be.
Years ago I was doing a play down south. It was a terrible experience. I didn't like the theatre, the director, the other actors or the town. I was miserable. I finally made up my mind to leave. I quit the show, left the theatre and went home. It was a long bus ride to get from there back to New York. And all the way I kept asking myself what I thought I was doing. I was walking away from a job, from my career. I had never done anything like that in my life. But there was a quiet voice inside me which kept saying "You're doing the right thing." I wouldn't have paid any attention to it if it had happened only once. But the voice kept repeating over and over again "You're doing the right thing."
When I finally got home I relaxed and went to sleep. When I woke up the next day I started processing what I had done and I realized that I had accepted that job for the wrong reasons. It was a money choice, not an artistic choice. There was nothing wrong with the play itself. It was the production that made me unhappy.
A week or so later I received a call from another theatre asking me to come and play the very same role I had walked away from. A bigger theatre, a better director and a nicer group of people all around; it was a very happy experience. Obviously I had done the right thing.
I spent my life working as a performing artist. Now I'm retired with physical problems. I've given up acting and quit show business. Will I ever work again? I don't know. But I've given it up so often, I could give it up a few more times.
DB - The Vagabond
Never give up
***************************
SUMMER QUESTION
It's a long, hot, sticky summer, so here's a hot, sticky question for you. Don't let the recent New York State decision rob you of your thunder.
Same sex marriage. Should it be legal or not? If so, why? If not, why not?
dbdacoba@aol.com
7 answers so far.
You have until the last day of summer, but don't dally.
I eagerly await your answer.
DB
************************
you're going to reach a lot of discouraging points
and most people give up.
Steve Lacy
***********************************
It's okay to give up. Giving up is fine. Giving up is good. I give up several times a day. When the pen falls on the floor and disappears into the black hole, I give up looking for it. I gave up trying to get my scanner to work so I could post some pictures in my journal. I gave up trying to get my computer started. I gave up trying to finish the painting .Everything I have and I've done I gave up on.
What giving up does is to relieve the growing emotions like frustration, desperation and rage. It enables one to let go of the trash that's gathering at the front door of one's thinking. It then enables one to open the door and let fresh air into the mind. It thumbs its nose at failure and disappointment. It justifies tears.
But if you don't take yourself too seriously, it also enables you to go back and start over. The air is cleared, the bonds have been removed and the fog has drifted away. It's a splendid emotional cleaning. It can help to turn misery into joy.
This afternoon I watched a friend accidentally drop a small piece of her telephone as she was trying to assemble it. It fell to the floor and disappeared. She was angry and frustrated because she couldn't find it. Groping around on the floor in the only places it could be just made her more upset. Finally she gave up. We had a chat, shared a few laughs and she went and sat down. From her chair she could see under a cabinet and there was the piece she had been looking for. Not where it should logically be.
Years ago I was doing a play down south. It was a terrible experience. I didn't like the theatre, the director, the other actors or the town. I was miserable. I finally made up my mind to leave. I quit the show, left the theatre and went home. It was a long bus ride to get from there back to New York. And all the way I kept asking myself what I thought I was doing. I was walking away from a job, from my career. I had never done anything like that in my life. But there was a quiet voice inside me which kept saying "You're doing the right thing." I wouldn't have paid any attention to it if it had happened only once. But the voice kept repeating over and over again "You're doing the right thing."
When I finally got home I relaxed and went to sleep. When I woke up the next day I started processing what I had done and I realized that I had accepted that job for the wrong reasons. It was a money choice, not an artistic choice. There was nothing wrong with the play itself. It was the production that made me unhappy.
A week or so later I received a call from another theatre asking me to come and play the very same role I had walked away from. A bigger theatre, a better director and a nicer group of people all around; it was a very happy experience. Obviously I had done the right thing.
I spent my life working as a performing artist. Now I'm retired with physical problems. I've given up acting and quit show business. Will I ever work again? I don't know. But I've given it up so often, I could give it up a few more times.
DB - The Vagabond
Never give up
***************************
SUMMER QUESTION
It's a long, hot, sticky summer, so here's a hot, sticky question for you. Don't let the recent New York State decision rob you of your thunder.
Same sex marriage. Should it be legal or not? If so, why? If not, why not?
dbdacoba@aol.com
7 answers so far.
You have until the last day of summer, but don't dally.
I eagerly await your answer.
DB
************************
Monday, June 13, 2011
Leave Them Laughing
The one thing the world will never have enough of is the outrageous.
Salvador Dali
********************
There's an old saying in Show Business, when you are doing a comedy or a comic sketch "Always leave them laughing."
My readership is so low these days that I thought I would indulge myself a bit and once more write about my grandmother. Those of you who often join me as travelers on the vagabond's journey may remember and enjoy it. I hope so.
Her name was Charlotte Cole. That was her married name and her professional name. She was born in the 19th Century, as were her three children, two boys and a girl, my mother. Charlotte was trained as a youngster to sing, dance and play the piano, she was also given acting lessons..
She married a man who wanted to be a pioneer. So the two of them set off for Nebraska where he built a sod house and was a farmer and rancher. Charlotte gave birth to all of her children in that sod house.
One day she told me about getting supplies from the village. While her husband was working in the fields she would drive an ox cart into town. When the cart was filled there was no room for her so she road back sitting on the ox.
When her husband died her boys were grown and her daughter was a teenager. They moved to Lincoln, Nebraska where my mother finished school. Charlotte taught my mother to sing and dance, and a day came when they joined a traveling theatre company as a variety act. My grandmother was always very young looking so they became the Cole Sisters, a song and dance duo. She had amazing stories to tell about those years.
They played in some very rough places, some of them weren't states yet. Men would come to the theatre with their rifles. The theatres were often very primitive, with little or no sanitary facilities for the actors. There was no such thing as privacy.
One of the skits that was performed involved a Native American being shot and killed by the villain of the piece. Wherever the company went they would hire a local Indian to play the part. In one location he arrived for the show with his whole family and when the villain fired his pistol, once, the entire family fell down.
She told about another time when the entire company got diarrhea during the performance. The only way out was through the back door which was covered by a piece of scenery. As soon as the first act was over and the curtain closed there was a mad dash to the out houses which immediate filled up leaving every one else to use the forest out behind the theatre.
They eventually got to New York City. In those days the motion picture business was located in New York, before Hollywood was born. So Charlotte became an actress in silent films.
She taught me things and encouraged me to go into show business. She was the only one in my family who did.
One of the most remarkable things about my grandmother was her sense of humor. When something struck her funny she would laugh in such a way that everyone around her was infected by it and would laugh along with her even if they didn't know what was funny. One day we were driving somewhere and the wind blew her hat off, right out the window. My brother went chasing after it and each time he leaned over to pick it up the wind would blow it again. After a couple of times watching that she started to laugh. Even though it was her hat she couldn't resist the humor of it and neither could the rest of us. My poor brother eventually saved the hat but didn't appreciate being laughed at.
Another time she was visiting me, my mother and my sister. She decided to take a bath. When she was finished she couldn't get up. My mother and sister tried to get her up but were unable to, she was a bit overweight by this time. So they called me. Charlotte held a towel in front of her, I grabbed her under the arm pits and hoisted her up, then went about my business. Charlotte was unfazed by the whole thing.
The most memorable story about her and her sense of humor happened a few days before she died. She was very independent. She had lived for many years by herself in a residential hotel in New York. One day she called my mother and said to come and get her because she was passing on. We were living in a New York suburb at that time. So we drove into town and picked her up.
This was in the 40's. In those days you didn't enter an upscale New York hotel without being properly dressed. So I wore a tie and jacket. I was 14 years old. Not only that but Charlotte never went out without being immaculately dressed, which meant a nice outfit, her fox fur stole, gloves and a hat with a veil.
When we reached our apartment, which was on the second floor, Charlotte took one look at the stairs and declared that she would not be able to climb them. So I got a chair. We put Charlotte in the chair. Mother got in front, I got behind, and we lifted her step by step up the staircase. Except that every time I leaned over to grab the back of her chair my tie fell in front of her face and she had to blow it away. Well, about half way up the stairs it struck her funny and she started to laugh. Within moments she, mother, I and the two people from the first floor who came out to see if they could do anything, were helpless with laughter.
We finally got her upstairs and into a bed. Two days later she went to the hospital and made her exit. She was 88.
I'll never forget that day. There she was an old lady knowing that she was going off to die and yet she found something humorous about her own passing. I vowed to be like her. If I have to go, that's the way I want to go. Leave them laughing.
Dana Bate
The Vagabond
**********************
My lower bridge came loose this morning. It's painful, very painful to chew, impossible to bite. No money for a dentist, no insurance.
********************
Never give up.
*********************************
Salvador Dali
********************
There's an old saying in Show Business, when you are doing a comedy or a comic sketch "Always leave them laughing."
My readership is so low these days that I thought I would indulge myself a bit and once more write about my grandmother. Those of you who often join me as travelers on the vagabond's journey may remember and enjoy it. I hope so.
Her name was Charlotte Cole. That was her married name and her professional name. She was born in the 19th Century, as were her three children, two boys and a girl, my mother. Charlotte was trained as a youngster to sing, dance and play the piano, she was also given acting lessons..
She married a man who wanted to be a pioneer. So the two of them set off for Nebraska where he built a sod house and was a farmer and rancher. Charlotte gave birth to all of her children in that sod house.
One day she told me about getting supplies from the village. While her husband was working in the fields she would drive an ox cart into town. When the cart was filled there was no room for her so she road back sitting on the ox.
When her husband died her boys were grown and her daughter was a teenager. They moved to Lincoln, Nebraska where my mother finished school. Charlotte taught my mother to sing and dance, and a day came when they joined a traveling theatre company as a variety act. My grandmother was always very young looking so they became the Cole Sisters, a song and dance duo. She had amazing stories to tell about those years.
They played in some very rough places, some of them weren't states yet. Men would come to the theatre with their rifles. The theatres were often very primitive, with little or no sanitary facilities for the actors. There was no such thing as privacy.
One of the skits that was performed involved a Native American being shot and killed by the villain of the piece. Wherever the company went they would hire a local Indian to play the part. In one location he arrived for the show with his whole family and when the villain fired his pistol, once, the entire family fell down.
She told about another time when the entire company got diarrhea during the performance. The only way out was through the back door which was covered by a piece of scenery. As soon as the first act was over and the curtain closed there was a mad dash to the out houses which immediate filled up leaving every one else to use the forest out behind the theatre.
They eventually got to New York City. In those days the motion picture business was located in New York, before Hollywood was born. So Charlotte became an actress in silent films.
She taught me things and encouraged me to go into show business. She was the only one in my family who did.
One of the most remarkable things about my grandmother was her sense of humor. When something struck her funny she would laugh in such a way that everyone around her was infected by it and would laugh along with her even if they didn't know what was funny. One day we were driving somewhere and the wind blew her hat off, right out the window. My brother went chasing after it and each time he leaned over to pick it up the wind would blow it again. After a couple of times watching that she started to laugh. Even though it was her hat she couldn't resist the humor of it and neither could the rest of us. My poor brother eventually saved the hat but didn't appreciate being laughed at.
Another time she was visiting me, my mother and my sister. She decided to take a bath. When she was finished she couldn't get up. My mother and sister tried to get her up but were unable to, she was a bit overweight by this time. So they called me. Charlotte held a towel in front of her, I grabbed her under the arm pits and hoisted her up, then went about my business. Charlotte was unfazed by the whole thing.
The most memorable story about her and her sense of humor happened a few days before she died. She was very independent. She had lived for many years by herself in a residential hotel in New York. One day she called my mother and said to come and get her because she was passing on. We were living in a New York suburb at that time. So we drove into town and picked her up.
This was in the 40's. In those days you didn't enter an upscale New York hotel without being properly dressed. So I wore a tie and jacket. I was 14 years old. Not only that but Charlotte never went out without being immaculately dressed, which meant a nice outfit, her fox fur stole, gloves and a hat with a veil.
When we reached our apartment, which was on the second floor, Charlotte took one look at the stairs and declared that she would not be able to climb them. So I got a chair. We put Charlotte in the chair. Mother got in front, I got behind, and we lifted her step by step up the staircase. Except that every time I leaned over to grab the back of her chair my tie fell in front of her face and she had to blow it away. Well, about half way up the stairs it struck her funny and she started to laugh. Within moments she, mother, I and the two people from the first floor who came out to see if they could do anything, were helpless with laughter.
We finally got her upstairs and into a bed. Two days later she went to the hospital and made her exit. She was 88.
I'll never forget that day. There she was an old lady knowing that she was going off to die and yet she found something humorous about her own passing. I vowed to be like her. If I have to go, that's the way I want to go. Leave them laughing.
Dana Bate
The Vagabond
**********************
My lower bridge came loose this morning. It's painful, very painful to chew, impossible to bite. No money for a dentist, no insurance.
********************
Never give up.
*********************************
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Murky Milestones 3/22/09
By the time I'm 90, I hope to have it together.
Herbie Mann
**********************************
Greetings Dear One.
---------------------------------------------
Well now, at last, I'm 20, independent, with my whole life ahead of me, what shall I do with it? Let's see. I've been learning music and playing drums here and there. I can be a musician amd spend my life fussing over drum skins. But then I really enjoy drawing and painting. I should go to art school and be a painter, making sure I always clean my brushes. But I also love the theatre and people say I'm good at it. I could play great Shakespearean roles. "Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear." Then the captain asked me if I wanted to join the police force here. A life in law enforcement isn't a bad life, chasing and arresting bad guys and rescuing little boy's puppies. My father was a ranking Army officer. I could join the Army. He'd be pleased if I did that. Maybe I would go into battle and become a hero as he did. I don't know. I've also written a couple of short stories. Maybe I could be a writer, with a bottle of scotch, an Olivetti and be like Kerouac. Oh well, I guess I'll hitchhike to California and think about it.
Now I'm 30. Married, with financial responsibilities. Working as a radio announcer isn't bad. The pay is good. Of course, it's fairly boring work compared to theatre. But I get to meet interesting people and interview them, "Tell me maestro what brings you to our fair city?", and every now and then I get to do a show that uses my creative abilities, a little bit. I guess I'll just settle down and live out my life as a broadcaster. "At the tone the time will be...."
Now I'm 40, in the prime of life. No longer married. On my own and wishing I had something more interesting to do. I'm an excellent broadcaster, everyone says so, but for some reason it isn't enough. I keep bumping my head on the ceiling and I keep looking for love and not finding it. Everyone around me seems to be troubled, wishing things were different and wishing they were some place else. "Some people sit on their butts, got the dream, yeah, but not the guts" I think I'll move to New York and get back into show business.
Now I'm 50. My acting career is going quite well. I'm not rich or famous but I work all the time and make a living at it, much to the surprise of my brother, my sister and a lot of other people. I feel as vibrant and alive as ever, no vitiation or abatment of my talent and abilities in spite of a less than circumspect life. I've had a few brief but interesting love affairs along the way. "So long D, J, K, N, H, it's been good to know ya" But I've lived half a century, where is all the wisdom I thought I would have accumulated by now? Well, maybe by the time I'm 60 I'll know something.
Now I'm 60. I'm still a busy actor, but I've also discovered that I'm a fairly good painter. I've had some formal training, as I had wanted for many years, and I enjoy painting when I have the time. I've won some awards and even sold a couple of things.
along the way. I found someone I thought was the right woman for me and settled down for a few years. I was wrong. I moved on. She got married. "It was great fun, but it was just one of those things." I travel all over New England and the east coast of America now, acting, and I enjoy it, most of the time. But I'm getting tired of this vagabond life and "these vagabond shoes.". I wish I could settle somewhere.
Now I'm 70. I've retired and settled down in a small town. There's a theatre here I used to work for, but they don't want me anymore, so I have nothing to do. Besides I got a few illnesses that prevent me from working anyway. It's quite painful to stand for a long time or to walk any distance. So now I sit and write everyday and occasionally do some painting. I have no social life here. My housemates are nice, particularly Patrick, but I seldom ever see them. No one visits me or invites me to their home. It's quiet and lonely, but I still have urges. Maybe if I got healthy again I'd go back to the stage. "This old man came rolling home." Who knows?
By the time I'm 80 I will expect I would have more paintings to sell and that some of my stories would have been published, maybe even a novel. I certainly plan to keep writing some more. I enjoy writing and will gladly do much of it if I don't go back to the theatre. I will love to read and listen to music. I will be wondering still what life would have been like as a musician, a policeman or a soldier, what it would have been like if I had done anything but be an entertainer "there's no people like show people," I will be wondering if my life could have been anything else but the life of a vagabond.
By the time I'm 90, I hope....
DB
_______________
Laugh, and I'll laugh with you.
*************************
Herbie Mann
**********************************
Greetings Dear One.
---------------------------------------------
Well now, at last, I'm 20, independent, with my whole life ahead of me, what shall I do with it? Let's see. I've been learning music and playing drums here and there. I can be a musician amd spend my life fussing over drum skins. But then I really enjoy drawing and painting. I should go to art school and be a painter, making sure I always clean my brushes. But I also love the theatre and people say I'm good at it. I could play great Shakespearean roles. "Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear." Then the captain asked me if I wanted to join the police force here. A life in law enforcement isn't a bad life, chasing and arresting bad guys and rescuing little boy's puppies. My father was a ranking Army officer. I could join the Army. He'd be pleased if I did that. Maybe I would go into battle and become a hero as he did. I don't know. I've also written a couple of short stories. Maybe I could be a writer, with a bottle of scotch, an Olivetti and be like Kerouac. Oh well, I guess I'll hitchhike to California and think about it.
Now I'm 30. Married, with financial responsibilities. Working as a radio announcer isn't bad. The pay is good. Of course, it's fairly boring work compared to theatre. But I get to meet interesting people and interview them, "Tell me maestro what brings you to our fair city?", and every now and then I get to do a show that uses my creative abilities, a little bit. I guess I'll just settle down and live out my life as a broadcaster. "At the tone the time will be...."
Now I'm 40, in the prime of life. No longer married. On my own and wishing I had something more interesting to do. I'm an excellent broadcaster, everyone says so, but for some reason it isn't enough. I keep bumping my head on the ceiling and I keep looking for love and not finding it. Everyone around me seems to be troubled, wishing things were different and wishing they were some place else. "Some people sit on their butts, got the dream, yeah, but not the guts" I think I'll move to New York and get back into show business.
Now I'm 50. My acting career is going quite well. I'm not rich or famous but I work all the time and make a living at it, much to the surprise of my brother, my sister and a lot of other people. I feel as vibrant and alive as ever, no vitiation or abatment of my talent and abilities in spite of a less than circumspect life. I've had a few brief but interesting love affairs along the way. "So long D, J, K, N, H, it's been good to know ya" But I've lived half a century, where is all the wisdom I thought I would have accumulated by now? Well, maybe by the time I'm 60 I'll know something.
Now I'm 60. I'm still a busy actor, but I've also discovered that I'm a fairly good painter. I've had some formal training, as I had wanted for many years, and I enjoy painting when I have the time. I've won some awards and even sold a couple of things.
along the way. I found someone I thought was the right woman for me and settled down for a few years. I was wrong. I moved on. She got married. "It was great fun, but it was just one of those things." I travel all over New England and the east coast of America now, acting, and I enjoy it, most of the time. But I'm getting tired of this vagabond life and "these vagabond shoes.". I wish I could settle somewhere.
Now I'm 70. I've retired and settled down in a small town. There's a theatre here I used to work for, but they don't want me anymore, so I have nothing to do. Besides I got a few illnesses that prevent me from working anyway. It's quite painful to stand for a long time or to walk any distance. So now I sit and write everyday and occasionally do some painting. I have no social life here. My housemates are nice, particularly Patrick, but I seldom ever see them. No one visits me or invites me to their home. It's quiet and lonely, but I still have urges. Maybe if I got healthy again I'd go back to the stage. "This old man came rolling home." Who knows?
By the time I'm 80 I will expect I would have more paintings to sell and that some of my stories would have been published, maybe even a novel. I certainly plan to keep writing some more. I enjoy writing and will gladly do much of it if I don't go back to the theatre. I will love to read and listen to music. I will be wondering still what life would have been like as a musician, a policeman or a soldier, what it would have been like if I had done anything but be an entertainer "there's no people like show people," I will be wondering if my life could have been anything else but the life of a vagabond.
By the time I'm 90, I hope....
DB
_______________
Laugh, and I'll laugh with you.
*************************
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