When Burt said he missed going to the ballet, I really wanted for us to go. It didn’t happen; I heard about a performance geared to the diagnosis on a Friday; the dance event was scheduled for Sunday. I wasn’t able to pivot that fast. I still have regrets. It wasn’t easy to find accessibleContinue reading “Relaxed performance”
Category Archives: #from-before
Peaches are good
There were other summers When it was enough to say’Peaches are good’ to makeIt a good summer. SummersPast, before, when you wereStill here, with me. SummersNot like this one, without you.This summer, I’m thinking ofHow much you would enjoyThis fruit of summer. Burt,The peaches are good thisSummer. This summer, I amMissing you. That’s not good.
Good advice
Some days, Burt is so intensely missed that I walk around in a miasma of loss. That’s on one day, and it’s fine. It is inevitable that that feeling will come or go or both at once. Today, I miss him but I’m digging into memories. With the memory the miasma lifts; I am notContinue reading “Good advice”
When I met Burt
Burt lamented that his address had changed from 555 West 42nd Street when mgmt put the front entry on W43rd. [Note that they have given the address to the ensite theater, see below.] Soon after we met, his address changed again from the 500 block in midtown west to the 500 block on E72nd. WhileContinue reading “When I met Burt”
Midtown west
Our old stomping ground After the hard years, I get to remember and celebrate all the good years New York City Center has been restored beautifully. It’s a bright elegant spot even with all the superb theatrical venues the City sports. I have been a habituée for longer than you need to know. [Hey, itContinue reading “Midtown west”
Where our paths didn’t cross
This was a part of Burt’s work history that I shared with you recently. The Sherry Netherlands was home to Kim Novak, a celeb he did not get to meet on his delivery route. Burt’s delivery job at the camera shop on 58th Street in the 1950s brought him to the Kodak plant on theContinue reading “Where our paths didn’t cross”
A jog to my memory
When I passed a firehouse on W 19th where a fire truck was going on a call, I had a recollection. Long ago. Burt and I were passing a firehouse; one truck had just left and a fireman remained in the doorway. Burt engaged him in conversation and in minutes, we were looking at theContinue reading “A jog to my memory”
Revisiting
On my respites during Burt’s journey, I had avoided going where we had been together. Now, in his absence, these are the most welcome destinations. I am soothed by going where we had gone together.
Meant to be
Burt did a favor for Angelo one day in 1990. He went to drop off something at the Puck Building. He noticed a freebie newspaper on the premises. The NY Press had an, also free, personal ad section. Intrigued, Burt worked on his pitch. I was in the market. Burt’s ad was tailor-made to myContinue reading “Meant to be”
Theater, or
Whatever favored activity I will make the case for theater as a healing art for those of us grieving a loss as well as it may be for a nation in crisis. Theater does not stand alone in its healing powers. Dance, you bopping to a tune while mopping the floors, or the variety youContinue reading “Theater, or”
this is our life 