Tip-Toe Through the Prickly Thorns

Headlines screamed and news anchors beamed at the news. The California drought was finally and officially over. One glance outside our window told us that weeks earlier. The hills were alive with a tapestry of many colors come alive.

January and February were another story with more than seven inches poured on our heads in less than sixty days.

Taken in perspective, the average rainfall the entire year before was less than five inches. The year before that it was even less. My patio and side yard attested to the standing desert pool that lasted all night and only slowly disappeared the following morning.

Yet it only took one hike up Oswalt Canyon in South Palm Springs to see just how alive the hills had become. Where dirt trails once clearly delineated the routes back into the canyon, now fields of grass blanketed the entire area and buried the trails along with rocks and boulders and scrub brush.

It reminded me of long walks in the woods back home. So, with canteen wrapped around my waist and camera in hand, I ventured back into that jungle of prickly grasses and got lost amid the splendor of desert floral.

Color like this only happens in the desert every ten years or so. It’s a wonderful reminder of the life that lies dormant among the rock and shale and gravel in quiet solitude until heavy rains bring their world to life once again.

The Written Word

Mom and me as a kid

I grew up in a household without any books…or magazines…or newspapers. In fact it wasn’t until I started my paper route in Seventh grade that I even knew or understood what a newspaper was all about. I used to stop at the last house on my route and sit on their front stoop and read the headlines of the newspaper. I tried to read between the lines. There were stories in those words and I was trying to understand the truth of them. I guess that was the beginning of a lifetime of story-telling in one form or another.

I do the same daily research today…only now its perusing my ipad with a cup of coffee. I’m still filling my head with stories every morning. As I told my students in a workshop recently, story-telling is a one of the most effective ways to communicate because story-telling is really data and information wrapped up with emotion.

Truth be told, I am now a writer in my elder years. I tell stories that are often trapped inside my imagination. They may be recent incidents or relics from my past but they are all stories in need of telling. Perhaps Victor Hugo said it best:  ‘A writer is a world trapped inside a person.’

It wasn’t that long ago that I was riding out west alongside a drifter called Jeb Burns. His story came to me in 1974, was pounded out on an L.C. Smith antique typewriter only to languish for forty years before being resurrected by a high tech scanner and finally publication.

The same was true with another western born in 1975 and finally finding life not that long ago.

Back then I was riding shotgun on a stage coach out west, watching the cunning nature of a man, really a half-breed, by the name of Ree Bannon.

Another story was observing and writing down the adventures and life experiences of a young man much like myself back in the mid-sixties. A coming of age novel that explored driving ambition, class differences and youthful passion set in the turbulent 1960s.

Palm Springs is haunted by the rich and the famous and the broken. It was a concept I devoured in three books that followed the lives of a group of people living out their lives in Palm Springs.

‘Cobbler’ was born five years ago but only recently went under my editor’s surgical pen for release soon. It’s a suspense thriller that takes a couple around the world in search of an elusive icon called ‘The Cobbler.’

Story telling takes on many forms and for me, plays are a new and exciting medium in which to explore the human condition. ‘Riot at Sage Corner’ tells the story of an aging hippie trapped in a retirement community who is causing all kinds of problems.

Fifty year high school reunions are often replete with drama, boredom, assaults on self-confidence and memories unwanted and embraced. It can be a plethora of conflicting emotions. We’ll see what audiences think of my new play August 11^th and 12^th at the Steeple Center in Rosemount.

Another new play, still festering in my imagination and slowly finding release through my fingertips, is about old age and the inevitability of the end we must all face someday. It’s not a dark comedy but neither is it sad. Instead I hope it can be a celebration of all that makes us human and caring individuals…even if some of us need a nudge or two in that direction once in a while.

Link to all my blog posts

Turns out that over the years my blogs have become weekly story-telling on a wide variety of topics. My travels, my time living in Europe, time in the service, the kids growing up and past experiences that shaped my life.

The second truism often embraced about writing is that through the power of story-telling we can learn so much about ourselves and others. Stories are the fabric in our lives that keeps our world interesting. It is what stirs our imagination and keeps our kids and grandkids up late at night, pleading to hear just one more book read to them…or hiding under the covers because they can’t let go of their latest find from the library.

This is what I do. This is who I am.

It's All Theater

Hotel Kitano

 It’s 5:00 in the morning and I’m sequestered in a local Starbucks on Park Avenue half a block from my hotel in New York City. While most of the world is still sleep, I’m on assignment constructing my next play ‘The Last Sentinel.’ Aside from better tailoring, there is little to differentiate this bleary-eyed crowd meandering in from the same caffeinated patrons back in Palm Springs. If you focus on their eyes, they all have a story to tell. Some can be translated quite easily and others only guessed at  - but the stories are there none-the-less.

Philly Bridge

Yesterday afternoon we rolled up two hundred and twelve miles of Amtrak coach from Annapolis to Penn Station. It’s another whirlwind capture of three Broadway plays in three days plus other assorted ‘have to see’ ventures before we slip back out of town again.

Amtrak

Amtrak always provides a fascinating glimpse into another slice of Americana in its coaches, on the station platforms and through the backside of each city we pass by. East coast rail travel has a long tradition among these folks. For this Midwesterner and born-again Californian, it’s a comfortable cocoon from which to watch another tribe in all its colorful attire and rituals pass by.

Perusing a ‘New York Times’ pilfered from the hotel front desk, I see that the director of the FBI has just been fired. I read column after column and can only conclude that the D.C. theater season is in full swing. Patriots and pontificators alike all shout and push for their place on the printed page.

It would seem the news nowadays, true or otherwise; has been rarified, objectified, idolized, and criticized. No one can see that most of it should all be mummified. On page after page, the circus continues with empty headlines, fake news and accusations meant only to bait more reaction from readers and writers alike.

I think it all began to change back in the Seventies when the national television networks moved their news bureaus over to the Entertainment division. Their budgets were slashed and expenses put under a microscope. Cost-cutting became the norm.

Ever since then rating seem to dominate the news cycle and serious journalism has taken a backseat to anything else that garners ratings even if it is in lieu of meaningful information. Tough questions have taken a backseat to puffery and grandstanding on both the host and guest’s part.

At this stage of the game, only reality-adverse diehards still believe the character actors pretending to be our representatives on the hill. It seems so many of those clowns are reading from scripts that leave out common sense, social decorum and a concern for the common woman and man. I will give those politicians credit though. I watched incredibly talented actors on three different Broadway stages and I think many of the players in Washington could give those professionals a run for their money.

Avenue Q Playbill

Avenue Q Poster

Case in point, we saw a delightful play the first evening. It was a funny, sometimes crass, very insightful performance of Avenue Q. ‘Avenue Q’ was a musical about self-discovery with a rousing cast of irreverent, comical characters, puppets included.

New York Traffic

We rode an average of four cabs a day and I usually ended up riding shotgun in those little yellow bullets. Trying to communicate with the cabbies, many of whom spoke little to poor English, usually came down to hand gestures or pointing to an ad or brochure as our next destination. Their driving skills were beyond reproach and ability to face off with other vehicles a constant challenge. The problem for me was sitting in front with only a dashboard and tin fender between my knees and all the other bumper cars. Most of the time I felt like a kamikaze co-pilot without a helmet.

Come From Away

‘Come From Away’ was an amazing musical which drew its inspiration from a tragic event in U.S. history. In the aftermath of 9/11, 38 planes with 6,579 passengers were stranded in Gander, Newfoundland when U.S. airspace was unexpectedly closed to all air traffic. The play focuses on how the locals opened their hearts and homes, hosting this international community of strangers.

Joel and I

We had dinner with one of the lead actors before the play and then met him backstage afterwards to mingle with the entire cast.

Old elevated railroad - New York

The High Line, also known as the High Line Park, is an almost two-mile park built on an elevated section of a disused New York Central Railroad spur called the West Side Line.

Inspired by the Promenade Plantee in Paris, the High Line has been redesigned and planted as an aerial greenway and rails-to-trails park. The park runs from the Lower West Side of Manhattan through the Meatpacking District, through Chelsea, to the northern edge of the West Side yards. Real estate development has gone crazy on both sides of the elevated park which gets over five million visitors annually.

Beautiful Playbill

Our last play was’ Beautiful.’  ‘Beautiful’ (The Carole King Musical) is the true story of Carole King’s remarkable rise to stardom, from being part of a hit songwriting team with her husband, to her relationship with fellow writers and singers, to becoming one of the most successful solo acts in popular music history.

Riding back to Annapolis in the fading light of day brought back sharp memories of my midnight bus ride from Saint Paul to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, and two years of military service. I tried to capture those same emotions and feelings in my book ‘Love in the A Shau.’

Annapolis MD Harbor

Annapolis harbor provided a welcome respite from the harried, hurried days in New York. The whole east coast exploration was a cornucopia of conflicting sights and sounds, emotions and attitudes and mayhem amid direction. It was an escape into a different way of life and only served to reinforce my comfort level back home. An interesting glimpse into professional theater and a storytelling standard I’d like to strive for. Here’s hoping.