Phlegmatic Oreo

I am on a three-week odyssey evocative of an Oreo® cookie. Consider the first and third weeks, visits with family, the chocolatey outer crisp cookies, and the creme filling the interstitial visits with friends. I just left Boise, ID having celebrated Thanksgiving with my son and his family. After a rapturous outing to the Boise Town Station Mall, one of the largest malls I’ve been to in recent years, I secluded myself in the upstairs bedroom of the historic downtown AirBnB in Boise, after a brief fashion show by my granddaughters in the living room. I temporarily pleaded legitimate exhaustion to take a moment to catch up. Finishing this several days later.

More globally, I have been seeking a new home. This manifested itself in a restless digital search of countless (and, as it turns out, fruitless) houses in upstate New York and South Lake Tahoe. I think the more I searched, the more convinced I became that I was not ready to sever ties with Los Angeles and my friends and cultural institutions there, so it was with a huge degree of relief when I realized that I could move away from downtown and still stay in Los Angeles, maybe being closer to family and my weekly past times, such as walking at the reservoir, etc. When I had that AHA moment, it was a huge lifter, and I began planning that move probably in the spring of 2025 after I get my new knee. Getting it done. One joint at a time.

In a way, my three-week sojourn gives me a chance to try living in other locations, and preparing for a change of domicile. First I went off to Washington, DC, to visit my dad and his wife in their home near Rock Creek Park. There, I ventured over to the golf course with my dad four times in seven days, riding in his golf cart with him and on one occasion, walking the course behind the cart. It is a great comfort to see that the things dad has always loved doing still sustain him. Nine holes on 4-5 days a week at 93 seems an impressive target to shoot for (though golf will never be my domain), the walking is lovely and restful. And he continues to write an oped a day which all appear on Church and State. Here’s one of the most recent ones.

On Saturday, the 16th, I booked tickets at Theatre J for a production of The Prayer for the French Republic, by Josh Harmon. I knew my dad hadn’t been to the theatre since the pandemic and thought it would be a good cultural infusion, but from a strictly selfish standpoint, I was interested to see this new play which I had heard so many people rave about. We were not disappointed.

The production, directed by Theatre J’s Artistic Director Hayley Finn, clocked three hours, but flew by because of the quality of the direction and acting. The play shifts back and forth between war time Paris and contemporary Paris, illuminating the plight of five generations of the Benhamou family, as they confront antisemitism, physical danger of being “othered” and the universal question of “Where are we safe?” Harmon’s characters are thoughtfully cast in dual roles, which allows his 9 actors (plus one VO role) to transition to their appropriate story with a fluidity that makes the viewer feel entrenched in all periods. The theatre, located in a large Jewish Educational Center in the Northwest part of DC, was filled that afternoon, and in the post election aftermath, it seemed that the audience felt extremely tied in to the story. The story also took on special significance in light of the circumstances in the Middle East. The designers equipped the small space powerfully, to gracefully articulate the apartment as inhabited by all these generations. The scenic design by Misha Kachman was purposely stark with little set decoration, which allowed the actors to migrate through history. The costumes, by Danielle Preston, were effective communicators of the characters’ class, season and time period; mostly sweaters, the wartime Pierre’s sweater subtley ragged and effective in conveying his arrival to Paris to his grandparents’ apartment from his and his father’s recent camp experience. Colin K. Bills’ lighting placed the narrator in specials and allowed him to return to the scenes where he was an important participant. Sarah O’Halloran’s sound was useful in focusing our attention as well. Both my father and I particularly enjoyed this professional production of a powerful new play. It was one of the highlights of my stay in D.C. I was happy to let the director know what a beautiful production she had put together as she was there to say hello at the top of the show and as we exited the theatre.

On Monday, I connected with my former colleague and friend, Ann Closs-Farley, who was in D.C. to costume the Kennedy Center production of Finn. We met near her hotel and got ice cream and sat looking out at the Potomac, with the background of the Watergate Hotel to frame our selfie. Ann was building exotic headdresses for her characters but took time out to treat me to a delicious gelato.

Another day, I drove to Annapolis and had lunch with my childhood friend, Liz Maxwell, who I have treasured since the age of seven or eight when we met in Greensburg, PA. I owe much of my upper educational trajectory to Liz, whose parents advocated my going to St. Paul’s School in Concord, N.H. at a time when my parents were going through a divorce. It was pretty much a life-changing place for me to land at a magical space like SPS during a chaotic and emotional time in my life. I’m forever grateful to Liz’s family and mine for allowing me that escape hatch. Keeping these familial touchpoints alive is crucial to my happiness.

Moving into the creamy filling of my travel Oreo, from DC, on Thursday, I took the Amtrak train up to Penn Station and then subwayed over to Grand Central where I caught the train to Rye, NY to meet Bob. We visited nearby Suny Purchase’s Neuberger Art Museum where we saw their 50th anniversary exhibit while we killed time before picking up Susan at White Plains Airport. Not to be too self-congratulatory, but I’d say Susan and I are getting much bettter about honing in on Bob’s world for these lovely frequent visits. Bob and I had a decent Italian dinner at the Trattoria, an attractive little place near the campus before driving to the airport. Susan was coming from Florida and visiting her Mom.

On Friday morning, Susan and I trained into the city to meet Bob and Sally Edgar at the Broadway Gallery, where my famous nibling, Niki Ford, has an exhibit through December 14th. If you can get there, DO IT. It is a small exhibit in their Project Gallery but full of delightful whimsy, as is their current work. This was also a key inflection point in the “important people in my life meeting each other.” So lovely to connect Susan with Bob and Sally. We had a festive lunch at a local eatery near the gallery.

Other important moments in the sojourn were the trip to the recycling yard in Carmel, NY. Bob has tantalized Susan and I for years about this place and so it was only fitting that we finally made it there for a trip.

Aside from all the stations of the cross depicted in the header above (I spent most of my time there at the shredding station), they have a store where the nicer objects can find new homes. Bob had a very intrepid but soul sucking coffee maker before our trip where we secured a much more efficient coffee maker and put it into service the next morning. Our visits have become more routinized, with me sleeping down in the living room on the fold out couch, facing the wood stove – I love it there. Susan, who is usually still on South African time, will sleep upstairs in Bob’s son’s room, and will want her coffee early in the morning. She creeps down so quietly that I never hear her but I was very happy to install this new coffee pot which only enthusiastically gurgled at the end of its cycle, not throughout. Love the community who volunteer to help at the recycling center – we were getting a hard sell from a local on one of two apple corers. (They’re probably still there, if you want them.) Since we are all in the deaccessioning phase of our lives, it was particularly pleasing to find this store so avidly attended. Bob’s friend Dan took away a copy of Anne Patchett’s Tom Lake.

Many lovely dinners prepared by Bob for the four of us later, we took a roadtrip to the Newark airport on Monday, 11/25 where I moved into the second cookie layer of my sojourn. I flew to Boise, ID on Monday, where I had rented an Air BnB in the heart of downtown historic Boise for Thanksgiving. This little house was perfectly located for our other reason for being in Boise, which was Chris’ work with the Tahoe Knight Monsters, who were playing at the Boise Centre this week. There were three games, two of which we saw while there, and the house was very close by. I’d never been to Boise before and it was very cold this week. Even my Tahoe peeps said it was colder than the numbers indicated. Fortunately for us, the house had many individual heating and cooling units throughout it and we were able to keep them at our desired temperature. We arrived on Monday, and were able to do a lot of things while there – we visited the Boise Aquarium, the Zoo Boise, and the Boise Town Square, a huge mall where I got snookered into buying a $250 face cream which tightened up the wrinkles under my eyes. I think it was a slick team – the boss above on the 2nd level signalling down to his staff at the kiosk – “Here comes someone who could use our product and looks gullible enough to bite.” It didn’t hurt that the salesman was Giovanni, a twenty-something from Roma. After applying something to my under eye area that absolutely erased the wrinkles, he then proceeded to point out several other “problematic” areas of my face.

Does this bother you? (pointing to the area between my eyes) Or this? (the area to the left and right of my mouth).

Giovanni da Roma

I shared this story with my seatmate on the flight from Boise to San Francisco today and we both had a really good gut laugh. She was a Boise local and knew the exact kiosk where I’d been taken. I also was carrying the Interstem bag with the leftover laundry left behind by my kids at the Air BnB – I didn’t have another bag, so have to tote my embarrassment around until I get to Tahoe.

Wednesday, we also hit the game store at the mall and bought Mancala and The Grinch version of the old classic, Operation. We played about 523 times over the next two days. I lost count.

Other highlights of the trip – Dan and Skylar and I went to see Moana 2 at the Boise Cinema. Talk about the wrong movie to see after having your facial wrinkles pointed out! Again, right in downtown Boise, this Cinema boasts the reclining seats I’ve grown to love at the Alamo Draft House, and where both Dan and I separately dozed off during the film. Skylar loved it and unfortunately Birdie and Whitney couldn’t come because Birdie wasn’t feeling well that afternoon.

That night, Wednesday, Dan and Skylar and I attended the first hockey game, where Tahoe won 7-2. There were several very specific Boise fan things – after their first goal of the game, a man came out on the ice and threw a big plastic fish down the ice (their team is the Idaho Steelheads) and around the arena, the lights said First Goal Fish! The crowd went wild. Right after each goal, the announcer made this adorable high pitched sound that the crowd mimicked, then they all chanted something in unison. I was charmed, but couldn’t understand it the first night so at the Friday night game, I tapped the woman’s shoulder in front of me and asked her “What are they saying?” She demurred, saying “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t pay attention.” She was being polite as they seem to be in Boise. Well, Friday night, I heard it 6 times and was able to interpret exactly what they were saying:

He Shoots. He Scores. Hey, Goalie, You SUCK!

Idaho Steelheads Fan’s Chant

I only have a video of the guy skating down the ice so take my word for it – it’s a classic fan favorite. Tahoe needs one. USC has Traveler. Let’s get thinking about that. Knight jousting down the ice? Tessie the Lake Monster doing a circuit? We were not the only Tahoe fans there – there were some itinerant fans who seemed to enjoy moving around the arena with their cowbells and loud “Let’s go Tahoe!” chants, which we echoed when they were in our vicinity. The fan wearing the captain’s jersey and chain mail! on his head also had a portable goal light which he donned on the top of his head whenever we scored. Which unfortunately, was only twice on Friday.

Thanksgiving was relaxed, very low key, with a walk in the morning (Chris had practice every day at 11:00) and a trip to the playground. Our hike on Wednesday around the Boise Cascade Hike in Veteran’s Memorial Park entailed Whitney carrying her the entire way! I was impressed. Birdie was feeling much better by Thursday and we all dressed up to go to dinner at Trillium, a downtown Boise steakhouse in the Grove Hotel. Dinner was good and I’ve become kind of a fan of not having to prepare Thanksgiving meals. We managed to escape without a photo of us except this sweet one. Birdie was on the floor at the time but you can imagine her beaming smile….

Now I’m at the SFO waiting for my flight to Reno where I’ll be reunited with my family again for another week of fun and frolic.

I love Oreos.