When I was very young, my mom gave me a watch ... a Mickey Mouse watch with a pleather red band ... and I didn't like it. I made some face, or remark, of displeasure upon receiving the gift and my mom was disappointed. Her face fell.
I immediately wished I'd applied a filter ... and spent the rest of my childhood asking my mom, at random, inappropriate hours and often apropos of nothing, "Do you believe I like the watch?" - I sensed she was hurt that I didn't like it, quickly told her that I did ... then spent the next ten years or so trying to convince us both!
In high school, against all odds at the time in northern Wisconsin, I had a friend who was black. I'd cart her around town, to and from school, we'd drink bottomless cups of coffee (or beer) together ... We danced the Cha-Cha one night in my white tuxedo!
So "Micki", as I'll call her here, and I had Spanish class together. One day, during another interminable lesson by Señora Lulu, we started fighting over a pluma ...
I like to keep a pen behind both ears. That's just how I roll! So I can whip one out in a hurry when inspiration strikes ... or stave off attackers ... and Micki took one of them this day and started using it. Blatantly reached behind my ear and nicked my Bic!!
We started tussling ... Micki took her shirt off, and was starting to pummel me with both fists when I blurted out something that ended, unfortunately, with the word "black" as a compound noun. Like, "Oww! Stop hitting me, Micki! You black ... "
And then she REALLY hit me.
So "Micki", as I'll call her here, and I had Spanish class together. One day, during another interminable lesson by Señora Lulu, we started fighting over a pluma ...
I like to keep a pen behind both ears. That's just how I roll! So I can whip one out in a hurry when inspiration strikes ... or stave off attackers ... and Micki took one of them this day and started using it. Blatantly reached behind my ear and nicked my Bic!!
We started tussling ... Micki took her shirt off, and was starting to pummel me with both fists when I blurted out something that ended, unfortunately, with the word "black" as a compound noun. Like, "Oww! Stop hitting me, Micki! You black ... "
And then she REALLY hit me.
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| “What Did I Say??”, ©Jeff Glovsky |
Years later, I was working on this show with the lovely actress Leila Martin. She and her husband, or collaborator (writer/director), John, I think, were doing this cabaret tribute to Gertrude Lawrence ... and already disillusioned with the strange, internecine theater world I had gone to school to be a part of, I began recounting one day all the diva nutjobs I had thus far worked with (and/or dated or was lucky (or drunk) enough to 'get with' ;) ...
There was Luba, who lost a glove and burst into tears; Mary Kate, who lost a goldfish and burst into tears ... Scott and Debra, who used to call me "Biff" (don't ask) ... and all these people prancing around, overfull of themselves, obnoxiously so ... and this was well before our present day world of selfie whores, delusional "Idols" and narcissistic self-absorption.
Today, all the world really is a stage ... but this was just theater folk back then.
And I started opining to Leila Martin that every diva "has their little favorite" ... their little celeb célèbre that they celebrate ... imitating ... or in worse-case scenarios, becoming (or trying) ... backstage one day, while she was putting on make-up, at work at 'becoming' Gertrude Lawrence.
Completely clueless, yet compelled, I went on ... trashing the "conceit" of theater in general, theater people especially -- and most especially, "diva nutjobs" -- while indirectly trashing the performer who was paying me! Neither Leila Martin nor John (Meyer) ever thanked me for my work on their lovingly crafted and reverent tribute ... nor spoke to me again during the run of that show.
It's in this spirit of occasionally speaking too much or too loudly, of saying wrong things at worst possible moments, and eventually regretting (or not) what you realize too late you may have been stupid in saying ... that I throw my support into the ring for Donald Trump in 2016.
Like him or not, Trump gets things done - and says things, unscripted, which he doesn't regret. There are few more "presidential" traits I can think of, that would actually seem to be requirements for the job of president of the United States, than track record, accomplishment and a firm sense of commitment ... which is exactly the trait which spurs accomplishment and creates track record ... On and on.
(And Mom: I really did like the watch :)
There was Luba, who lost a glove and burst into tears; Mary Kate, who lost a goldfish and burst into tears ... Scott and Debra, who used to call me "Biff" (don't ask) ... and all these people prancing around, overfull of themselves, obnoxiously so ... and this was well before our present day world of selfie whores, delusional "Idols" and narcissistic self-absorption.
Today, all the world really is a stage ... but this was just theater folk back then.
And I started opining to Leila Martin that every diva "has their little favorite" ... their little celeb célèbre that they celebrate ... imitating ... or in worse-case scenarios, becoming (or trying) ... backstage one day, while she was putting on make-up, at work at 'becoming' Gertrude Lawrence.
Completely clueless, yet compelled, I went on ... trashing the "conceit" of theater in general, theater people especially -- and most especially, "diva nutjobs" -- while indirectly trashing the performer who was paying me! Neither Leila Martin nor John (Meyer) ever thanked me for my work on their lovingly crafted and reverent tribute ... nor spoke to me again during the run of that show.
It's in this spirit of occasionally speaking too much or too loudly, of saying wrong things at worst possible moments, and eventually regretting (or not) what you realize too late you may have been stupid in saying ... that I throw my support into the ring for Donald Trump in 2016.
Like him or not, Trump gets things done - and says things, unscripted, which he doesn't regret. There are few more "presidential" traits I can think of, that would actually seem to be requirements for the job of president of the United States, than track record, accomplishment and a firm sense of commitment ... which is exactly the trait which spurs accomplishment and creates track record ... On and on.
(And Mom: I really did like the watch :)
