November 12, 2012

Dark of Veterans’ Day morning. Overseas opens in LA.

Drove to Carrboro yesterday morning for Night Music. J and D were to come--had asked to come-- but I drove to the appointed place on campus and waited for more than an hour–drove onto the freeway, turned around and came back to give them another chance– until I was afraid I’d miss the reading. This was surprisingly devastating for something that happens all the time. I was puzzled, then I was furious, then I was depressed. If I had the time back I’ve spent waiting on people I’d have two more birthdays than my destiny allows, anyway. If people had the time back they’d spent waiting on me, they’d have time for an extra cup of coffee, maybe.  When I was a student, I’d have lingered at the meeting place half an hour ahead to make sure I didn’t inconvenience a professor. To stand one up would be unthinkable. I drove the four hours (just under) in grievous discontent. I might not have made the trip if I’d thought I had to do it alone. With the waiting, I still arrived a few minutes early, and had a vodka at the Second Wind, a sports bar on Main Street in Carrboro, where three different football games played on three different screens. Felt comfortable there. I hadn’t eaten, so the vodka had supreme effect. Google said the arts center is on West Main when in fact it is on East, and the guy into whose parking lot I pulled and who figured this out for me was so proud that I had a play there he hugged me. Downtown Carrboro was lively in the sweet winter light (I’d dressed for the mountains, and kept shedding layers on the flats), reminding me of West Asheville. The Carrborro Arts Center is a former store in a strip mall, but useful and attractive, and apparently well run and full of events. Met the actors and the director. Cheryl B was there with her husband. Cheryl and I never had a conversation in high school, but I certainly knew who she was. It was great of her to come out and see me. Her brother Larry and I had a relationship in junior high, the erotic overtones of which I didn’t recognize or refused to recognize then. He had cancer in high school, got over it, and then succumbed as a young man. I think I made her sad asking about him.

When the reading began, layers of apprehension fell from me. The actors (especially the one playing Jesse) were excellent and dedicated. Beyond that, Night Music is beautiful. Beautiful. I was so happy. It’s not flawless, but what needs to be done is clear and relatively easy to fix. The audience talk-back (there was a big audience for that fine day and that obscure event) confirmed my impressions. It had achieved better than I foresaw, certainly better than I intended. I was happy. Had a mad crush on Jesse, which was, of course, part of the point.

The drive back alone in the dark was grueling. Rock and roll on the radio was my constant companion, driving away the drowsiness. The Prius hit and passed 10000 miles on the steep grade out of Old Fort. No moon, no stars, imagining who inhabited the rushing bodies of light around me.