City on December 19th, 1957 you might have been lucky enough to catch the opening of Meredith Wilson's musical: "The Music Man". I am privy to this really unimportant piece of trivia because I belong to the Facebook group: Vintage New York Stage.
It was slim pickings for the theater that week in December........ "The Music Man" was the only new show opening so close to the holidays.
However, sixty-seven musicals/revues paved the Great White Way that year.
Alas, so much abundance.
A serious embarrassment of riches.
When I read the Vintage New York Stage Facebook page's daily posts, I really get all caught up in it. I visualize the whole experience of seeing all of these productions. I dream of holding the ticket in my hand, I think about what I would have worn, if I had a date, what restaurant I would make reservations for my party of two...... or maybe just my party of one?
Or maybe just a night cap at Sardi's?
Get this..... the top ticket price for a Broadway show in 1957 was $8.05.
But this is the real zinger!
In those days, the performers did not use microphones, even in musicals. That little, tiny, battery powered body "mic" had not been invented yet.
So the audience had TO LEARN how to listen and how not to be distracted by minor irritations. Therefore, the theater was really a give and take experience where lives could be truly enriched.
Listening in 2015 is almost an art form in itself.
Am I right? These days nobody really listens anymore and just not in the theater, I mean in real life conversations.
Last week, I broke up with someone before anything really started because he was not hearing what I had been saying to him for months.
In February, I had my father and brother come and live with me.
Why?
If I did not take them into my apartment, they would have been homeless.
Their lives had totally spun out of control.
I am not embellishing or exaggerating that fact.
That is the simple truth.
Both my father and brother were suffering from mental illness.
Serious mental health issues.
My father died in June.
The doctor told us that my father simply had lost the will to live.
The death was unexpected.
And this entire situation put me at HUGE RISK.
Emotionally and financially.
So I trust, you are with me so far, Gentle reader.
Listening attentively.
Ok, if you happened to visit my apartment on December 10th, 2015 and needed to use the toilet to urinate and were a female, it was slim pickings for
toilet paper that day, we had none.
toilet paper that day, we had none.
If you happened to be visiting my apartment on December 11th, 2015 and were looking for paper products for “the little girl’s room”, well, you were shit out of luck.
And you would be shit out of luck until December the 15th…..when a 99 cent pack of toilet tissue made it’s way from the drug store and magically appeared in my bathroom.
Now if you think this story is going to be all about being poor and deprivation and complaining…..
Let’s face it, it is…..
But Wait.
If you so happened to be visiting me on Monday December 14th, 2015 and you witnessed the puzzled look on my face when a package was delivered to my doorstep…
And heard me weep with joy and surprise when I opened the cardboard box to find 2 lipsticks for me.
Two really expensive lipsticks, I had been coveting for about a year now.
I had mentioned to a friend when we were talking about these lipsticks that they were way toooo rich for my blood.
I mean when you don’t have anything to wipe your ass with.. you aren’t thinking about buying a SMASHBOX or BESAME lipstick for yourself, anytime in the near future.
But she was listening to me.
She heard what I was saying and what I was not saying.
The pauses between the words.
The lines in between.
This small act of caring.
This kindness.
It could not have been more perfect.
Thank you my dear, dear friend.
Comments
Post a Comment