A Truly Splendid Day!

I was speaking more about yesterday but I’m guessing that today will be splendid, too!

Splendidly hot, for one thing.

It’s going to go up to 95 degrees Fahrenheit today (again).  But I’ll tell you, having this entire house re-insulated last fall was a really great idea. So far, the house (my bedroom, specifically) is staying a whole lot more tolerable than it did last summer. So I’m finding myself reasonably complaint-free. Even though it does get pretty hot in here.

For instance, you would not want to undertake any sort of amorous adventures in here at night unless you were either in love beyond human imagining, or just stupefyingly horny. Because it does get pretty darn hot in here. (But so far, nothing close to last summer.)

(I am reminded, however, of a lyric from one of my favorite Nick Cave songs of all time, “Oh My Lord”: Now I’m down on my hands and knees/ And it’s so fucking hot!/ Someone screams “What are you looking for?”/ I scream, “The plot, the plot!” — That lyric comes to me repeatedly, throughout my lifetime, and also quite a lot while living here.)

Anyway.

But yesterday — wow. Sandra and I worked for a couple hours on some stuff we needed to clarify in the script (The Guide to Being Fabulous, the one-woman musical about Sandra’s incredible life). I haven’t really focused on any aspect of that script since last October, when Sandra and I finally finished our notes for the ending of the play (after about 5 years of re-writing the ending.)

In fact, here we are in a tavern in Rhinebeck NY, the moment we finished the notes. I posted the photo to our Instagram pages back in October. (We were just about to unleash another one of our laughing jags, where we would laugh uncontrollably for several minutes, until we were crying, and we’d inadvertently annoy anyone who was anywhere near us in the tiny but mightily wealthy village of Rhinebeck, NY.)

Sandra Caldwell, Rhinebeck, NY, October 2018

Anyway! Focusing again on that play just made both of us see it with fresh eyes again, and, gang, it is a really great play.  It’s upbeat, funny, deep, and awesome. And Sandra is a knock-out singer. Plus, she wrote all the songs herself and they are really, really killer. Very “Broadway” good, even though the play is premiering in Toronto, Canada.

It was so exciting for both of us yesterday, to see just how far we’ve come with this play. Sandra has had an incredible life.  I wish I could tell you about it because it would blow your mind. But you should come see the play…

And on the heels of that…. An important meeting in Toronto is looming large and it became horrifically apparent that I have waited too long to get the process of renewing my passport underway and so now I have to pay those ridiculously high fees to get the whole thing expedited. And I need to get it started, like, today, but I need to get the passport photo taken and, as is so very often the case with me, I need to wash my hair.

I am always in a perpetual state of needing to wash my hair.

I made the mistake last summer of renewing my driver’s license without washing my hair and now I have the most horrendous driver’s license photo known to man and I’m stuck with it for something like 4 years. (I’m toying with the idea of telling them I lost my license and need a new one. It’s really that bad. The photo looks like it’s my first day out of prison or something, plus I look about 75 years old.)

Anyway. My advice to you, gentle readers, is: Always wash your hair. And always renew your passport about 2 months before it expires.

That said, though.  Who has time to wash her hair? I need to focus on the revisions for Tell My Bones. And the pressure surrounding that play gets more and more intense every day, gang. People — even total strangers — have such high expectations for that play. So I need to get back to that again right now, before it gets too hot around here.

Have a fantastic Friday, wherever you are in the world, gang!! I’m gonna leave you with this, even though it’s not what I was listening to this morning. I was listening to nothing this morning, in fact. I was a bit brain dead this morning. I ate my breakfast and drank my coffee while staring blankly at the furry swirl of cats in the middle of the kitchen floor, scarfing down stinky fish gunk from cute little cat- shaped ceramic bowls.

And I also noticed, in my brain-dead stupor, that the kitchen table is a fucking mess. My CD player is one of those things that looks like a jukebox from a diner in the 1950s. It’s 2-feet tall. That, and the speakers for the iPad, takes up one end of the table. A ton of CDs are scattered everywhere. 3 issues of MOJO Magazine have landed on the table, unattended. Ditto, several issues of The Hollywood Reporter. Some early birthday cards that have arrived in the mail are propped up in the mess. And the companion hardcover coffee table book to Peter Bogdanovich’s 4-hour documentary on Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Running Down a Dream,  takes up one whole corner of the table and Weenie, my last remaining male cat, has now ravenously chewed on one of the (until recently, pristine) book’s corners, proving that you shouldn’t leave a bunch of stuff all over your kitchen table unattended to for months.

I’m guessing, though, that I’ll probably do something unthinkable like wash my hair before I manage to clear off that table…

All right! So I’m leaving you with the aforementioned “Oh My Lord.” Thanks for visiting, gang!! I love you guys. See ya!

“Oh My Lord”

I thought I’d take a walk today
It’s a mistake I sometimes make
My children lay asleep in bed
My wife lay wide-awake
I kissed her softly on the brow
I tried not to make a sound
But with stony eyes she looked at me
And gently squeezed my hand
Call it a premonition, call it a crazy vision
Call it intuition, something learned from mother
But when she looked up at me, I could clearly see
The Sword of Damocles hanging directly above her
Oh Lord Oh my Lord
Oh Lord
How have I offended thee?
Wrap your tender arms around me
Oh Lord Oh Lord
Oh My Lord

They called at me through the fence
They were not making any sense
They claimed that I had lost the plot
Kept saying that I was not
The man I used to be
They held their babes aloft
Threw marsh mellows at the Security
And said that I’d grown soft
Call it intuition, call it a creeping suspicion,
But their words of derision meant they hardly knew me
For even I could see in the way they stared at me
The Spear of Destiny sticking right through me
Oh Lord Oh my lord
Oh Lord
How have I offended thee?
Wrap your tender arms round me
Oh Lord Oh lord
Oh My Lord

Now I’m at the hairdressers
People watch me as they move past
A guy wearing plastic antlers
Presses his bum against the glass
Now I’m down on my hands and knees
And it’s so fucking hot!
Someone cries, “What are you looking for?”
I scream, “The plot, the plot!”
I grab my telephone, I call my wife at home
She screams, “Leave us alone!” I say, “Hey, it’s only me”
The hairdresser with his scissors, he holds up the mirror
I look back and shiver; I can’t even believe what I can see

Be mindful of the prayers you send
Pray hard but pray with care
For the tears that you are crying now
Are just your answered prayers
The ladders of life that we scale merrily
Move mysteriously around
So that when you think you’re climbing up, man
In fact you’re climbing down
Into the hollows of glamour, where with spikes and hammer
With telescopic camera, they chose to turn the screw
Oh I hate them, Ma! Oh I hate them, Pa!
Oh I hate them all for what they went and done to you
Oh Lord Oh my Lord
Oh Lord
How have I offended thee?
Wrap your tender arms round me
Oh Lord Oh Lord
Oh My Lord

c – 2001 Nick Cave

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.