1) An office retiree returns weekly to conduct a meditation session at lunchtime. I find it valuable. But it’s not unusual for unbidden distractions to take over. This time it was Liebestraum.
2) The unexpected glitter of this day! I was thinking all gray clouds - and they’re out there, to be sure - but some high-wattage sunshine is dominating the afternoon.
3) Teal blue and lavender.
For National Lobster Day, I remembered to wear my crawfish bow tie. ‘Cause I have no lobster ties.
1) This morning I a) got a reply tweet from the author whose book I reviewed yesterday for Etiquetteer, b) set off the smoke detector while I was in the shower - for the second time, and c) accidentally ripped out the crotch of my khakis while I was putting on my shoes.
1a) One thing I don’t need in my wardrobe is khaki Daisy Dukes.
2) Look soon for an announcement about Repeal Day. That’s just one of the irons in today’s fire.
3) Unaccountable feelings of optimism right now. I really can’t explain it.
Because surfing through the Yewtybbe you never know what you’ll find, for the last week I have been enjoying Gloria Paul singing to “Your Goodwill Ambassador” in the Julie Andrews movie Darling Lili:
Sing along if so inclined:
Your-a goodweel ambassadeaur
Would like to kneau eef you're doeeeng oh-keh.
Your-a goodweel ambassadeaur
would like to feel yeau're eenjoyeeng your steh.
Eef yeau're cam ehnd placeed OR
You've got a red-hot desigheer to reaum
I want to get yew ahl to kneau Paree
For dere's a FSSST Paree
And dere's a slo-o-o-o-o-o-w Paree
Weeel do de whole beeg sex-ee potpourri
'Cahz babee Ieeem geaueeng to mek yew et 'eaume!
Actual English lyrics here.
This is Jule’s response in the movie:
Bring it, Julie!
1) Autumn decidedly in the air since yesterday. Don’t know about you, but I’m ready for the change. What do you want to accomplish in this last week of September?
2) I’m sorry to say that, once again, I have become one of Those People Who Etiquetteer Complains About. Twice over the weekend I had to be pursued by Happy Couples who had not received my reply card to their weddings. Because I’d never sent it. Truly we best teach what we most need to learn.
3) Parlor coffee and devotional this morning included Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet. I plucked it from the rack this morning because my impromptu houseguest, a friend visiting from San Francisco, brought me to City Lights Bookstore there in 2015 where I bought my copy.
1) Yesterday was a lot about getting questions for which I didn’t have an answer: on parking (“Where is the exact entrance to the garage?”), on tech support (“Why can’t I see that on my screen?”), and forensic accounting. I had to rely on my colleagues, especially for tech support.
1a) Leaving the office later than hoped (worried I would not get to the dry cleaner before closing), suddenly this came into my head: Chopin’s nocturne opus 9, no. 2. My sweet Gramma used to play it, my mother used to play it, and I used to play it, too. And I never think of it now, so it was like a gift yesterday evening to bring me calm.
2) Plans to spend the evening communicating with a small list about a special event and working on an Etiquetteer review of Dinner in Camelot were dashed with the info that the condo association’s insurance inspection was the next day and that I would need to install new smoke detectors and a carbon monoxide detector beforehand. Now I can shake up a fabulous Colony Special martini, but I can barely tighten a screw in a doorknob, so you can imagine how that news left me. Thank goodness for my capable third-floor neighbor, who good-humoredly came down with his toolbox and got the job done.
3) Yesterday’s received wisdom: it’s easier (and a lot quicker) to destroy than to construct.
1) Yesterday’s Scorpio horoscope read “Have you been thinking about changing careers, Scorpio? You might hear of some opportunities today, possibly through a colleague.” Well, yesterday evening a friend invited me to participate in a professional project next month that, while hardly indicative of a career change, really energized me.
2) Black.
3) The price of four consecutive weekends away from home followed by two weekends featuring one full work day is that I am living in domestic chaos.
Such an interesting evening of (sometimes) mixed signals:
1) When you find out the recommendations you asked for are all unworkable bullshit - and that the person sending them must have known they wouldn’t work before sending them.
2) Hearing great news about someone - and having to keep it a secret because other people closer to it haven’t been told.
3) Fab musical theatre history of drinks at the soon-to-be-closed Brasserie JO.
BONUS: The horrifying, horrifying discovery that the email you received means the exact opposite of what you thought it meant . . . and that you replied to it 24 hours ago.
Having a flight of fancy this evening.
My first weekend day at home in a month!
1) My Fycebykke fydde today is full of babies, concern about Hurricane Florence and the terrifying gas explosions in Lawrence, Andover, and North Andover, Massachusetts; birthdays, travel for business and/or pleasure, and love of the city of Boston.
2) Oh, I could have gotten up at 6:18 AM, but no. For a rarity, I went back to bed and enjoyed two more hours of semi-consciousness. #bliss
3) In the midst of laundry and reading the news I came up with an ambitious one-day weekend list, as I’m working tomorrow. I’ll never get it all done, but having been away so many consecutive weekends, it just feels good to be restating a routine.
1) Overheard at the office: “If you close your eyes while typing a budget, you can almost see yourself on the beach.”
2) A colleague sent out an email offering the last sprigs of basil of the season, which prompted some bad poetry from me, to be sung to the tune of “The Last Rose of Summer”:
‘’Tis the last sprigs of basil, left blooming alone.
All their herbal companions have faded and gone.
No seas’ning of her kindred, no pleasant buds are nigh
To reflect back her fragrance and give sigh for sigh.”
2a) Of course the best version of this I could find is the incomparable Grace Moore in One Night of Love:
2b) Watch out for a quick shot of my beloved Jessie Ralph.
3) Some people have been extremely kind to check in on me after hearing about the gas explosions in Lawrence and Andover. Those towns are far removed from me, but the situation is terrifying to contemplate. My prayers are with the residents of those towns, and with all in the path of Florence.
1) This morning’s Back Story in the Times (at the end of the Thursday briefing) was about the Ig Nobel Prizes, at it brought me back to the days when the Igs were still at ye Instytytte and I was on its Board of Governors. That’s how I got to meet Russell Johnson from Gilligan’s Island.
2) Four consecutive weekends away from home have played havoc with my routines. I am really looking forward to spending Saturday in my home.
2a) But only Saturday. Sunday I have to work a memorial service.
3) Depression can lead you many places, and I’m afraid last night it led me to dinner at ye Cyrrie Nytion, with the best damn bacon macaroni and cheese ever. AND chocolate cake. Significant cardiac event in two years and counting . . .
Wow, offline for almost 14 hours. Fabulous.
1) So wrapped up in Priscilla: The Hidden Life of an Englishwoman in Wartime France that after work I sat on my back porch in the fading yellow-gray light with a glass of wine and kept on reading until it was too dark.
1a) And then kept on reading over dinner at Doyle's until her surprising and sad story came to an end. Not a heroine, not a traitor - someplace in the middle like most people.
1b) But what I found most appealling about this story is that Priscilla is actually the author's aunt, and he began it with his childhood memories of her and their relationship: watching old movies in her bedroom on one of the first television sets, her scent, her love of couture, visiting her sunbathing in a secluded part of a walled garden (nude; he'd have to announce himself in advance so she could cover up), and years later discovering in her scrapbook his own baby picture on the first page. You wouldn't have found any of my aunts and uncles sunbathing nude in a walled garden or dressing in couture! But it did give me an opportunity to reflect on the relationships I had with adults when I was a child.
2) Yesterday was really just a big fatigue-a-thon after a poor night's sleep and an 8 AM dental appointment, but miraculously I powered through the afternoon and got stuff done.
3) A couple responses to my column on Not Upstaging the Deceased have really touched me.
1) The horror of discovering a typographical error in a column that's been up all day. It's consensus, not concensus! #iknowbetterthanthat
2) Anybody know a good restaurant near a metro station in Bethesda? I'm taking some people out on Saturday.
3) Trying not to have a mood, mostly because I just have too much to do to spend time within it.
1) Up like at stone at 5:20 to alter my morning routine with two very important activities: a) vote in the primary, and b) bring my seersucker suit and white linen shirts to the dry cleaner for fall cleaning.
2) An inbox full of requests, some rather arcane, many quickly actionable.
3) The spotlight sun of yesterday's beach has followed me to town. It looks unremitting out there.
1) I woke up a whisper before seven and, like Jane Fonda saying "I am gonna do a goddamn back flip!", I decided that finalmente, I would head off to Herring Cove. By 7:30 I had packed for the ferry, gotten my beach bag, and headed out the door.
2) Doing something makes you feel great! Of course my progress was arrested in only nine minutes; I had to wait for ye Gyle Fyrce to open up so I could provision.
OH MY GOD, there was a dune here!
3) Now I had been warned that the landscape at Herring Cove had been radically altered by the storms last winter: that part of the beach was now an island at high tide, that concrete pilings from an old pier had been exposed by the storm, etc. None of the talk prepared me for the shock of seeing all the damage myself, of being in the marsh, in what was left of the dunes. Arriving at 8:30 AM on a gray morning - it was like the End Times. #pleaseputupyourrobertbdimmickdramafilter
I've heard they taste just like chicken.
4) I was impressed by the large number of birds. Dozens and dozens of seagulls, dozens of piping plovers using their camoflage to blend into the pebbles. I'm so grateful I wasn't wearing Nile green!
5) I hiked down to where the traditionally large gap had been between "boy beach" and the end of the beach nearest Wood End Light. One end of that gap was the only familiar dune landmark I could find - and that gap had more than doubled in size.
The only landmark familiar to me left.
6) By 10 AM the bright, unforgiving spotlight of the sun completely changed the atmosphere, making it less dire, but less inescapable. I lingered until 11:30, reading, writing, actually getting into the water, and watching the day's arrivals parade by.
See how much happier this looks?
7) Hiking out I collected some nasty-looking foil balloons, clearly brought for a birthday party and NOT packed out by the partiers. #naughtynaughty
8) In not too much time I was able to clean my carcass, finish packing, strip and remake the bed, and then bid my wonderful hosts farewell with many thanks for a fantastic stay.
9) Hochmina had invited me for a light lunch, and he and I got to catch up one on one, which was really nice.
10) It will not surprise you to learn that I was very early for the ferry, but the time passed more quickly than usual with conversation with the two young men in line in front of me, Dane and what sounded like Giselle but which is certainly not correct - but I really couldn't hear what his real name is. They had never been to P'town before this weekend, and I really enjoyed getting to compare notes with them. And, it turns out Dane when to camp at Interlochen!
11) Unusually, I opted not to sit in a banquette, and my gamble paid off when Ira and Bob appeared with their beautiful dog and asked to sit by me. And while it was lovely to see them, I'm afraid I slept two-thirds of the trip home.
12) Rounding the cape, I left my seat to go out on deck to see the dune damage again. The sun was as much a spotlight as ever before, illuminating the beach as I have never before seen it. At the center of this composition rose the Pilgrim Monument, lit the same color as the beach, palely anchoring this composition of the palest colors: sand, gray, blue, and white. No photograph I could ever take (see top photo) would recapture it, but perhaps a future Maxfield Parrish could do it.
1) I was lounging around writing for about an hour before the boys got up. "How do you feel about breakfast out?" they asked? "Love it! How much time do I have?" "Ten minutes." Whoosh! I put myself into presentable condition, and we sallied forth into a bright day.
2) We went inland for breakfast, up Shankpaintah to Chych, a wonderful diner just beyond the supermarket. I had a superb smoked salmon benedict, and I think we all had good talk.
2a) Good ensemble cast films were sort of a running topic throughout the weekend. At different times I brought up my beloved Weekend at the Waldorf and Boogie Nights, and Robert mentioned the original Murder on the Orient Express and What's Up, Doc?
3) More laziness around the pool, and then I determined to head into town for lunch. En route, I noticed a handsome young man wearing a tank top with an arresting message: May the Bridges I Burn Light the Way. He seemed just as taken with my shorts (the blue ones printed with pink martinis), which led to some nice banter as we passed on Comical Street. Neither of us slowed down.
3a) He appeared to have a boyfriend. They always have boyfriends.
4) Before déjeuner seul, I needed a book (I had not carried White Trash with me), which required spending about half an hour at Tim's Used Books, both browsing and chatting with Tim, both of which I always enjoy. I came away with Priscilla: The Hidden Life of an Englishwoman in Wartime France.
5) But I didn't end up with a chance to start reading it over lunch. Ye Rysse's Grylle at ye Whyler's Whyrffe seemed the path of least resistance, and after a wait at the host's desk I was shown to a seat at the short end of the bar (the long end faces away from the windows). I busied myself with the menu, and then with my new book, when I became aware of a Disturbance in the Force to my left. Long story short, it was my dear friend M. Davide, also enjoying déjeuner seul au bar! "Well, you were never going to look up from your book . . ." "And of course the light's in my eyes, but now I can certainly recognize your silhouette!" After about five minutes of us hog-calling information to each other across the bar, the three Gentlemen Older Than Us had been so sufficiently entertained that the one sitting next to M. Davide graciously offered to change seats with me.
5a) That, of course, led to déjeuner deux au bar comme des copines avec des chapeaux. With his pink champagne and my Aperol spritz, we were the Dynkin' Dynuts combo of champagne cocktails.
6) After seeing M. Davide off to the sad boat, i was Very Bad and went to ye Byn and Jyrry's for a small bourbon brown butter, which was really Very Bad and Wrong of me. But the benefit was encountering a friend and his boyfriend (who I hadn't yet met) outside Town Hall. OH MY GOD, IT'S YOU!
7) Back at the house on my own, I attempted to concentrate on some planning for September and a column on Ariana Grande and the bishop at Aretha Franklin's funeral.
8) We three had been invited to Hochmina-sur-Mer for dinner, and Andy prepared some exquisite smoked salmon and cucumber hors d'oeuvres to bring. I remain in awe of people who can create things to eat that look so perfect. Perfect! I simply cannot do it myself.
8a) En route we saw the Provincetown Fox skulking about on Pleasant Street! Daddy needs a new fur coat, but not that . . .
9) There were ten around the table at Hochmina-sur-Mer! Very casual, very nice dinner, real gemütlichkeit.
10) I needed an early night after all that!
1) Andy got us an exquisite breakfast made, as in The Pursuit of Love, "out of little bits of nothing at all:" tomato and cheese, an egg rolled up like a crepe, and other savory bites. And excellent coffee.
2) A lazy morning reading the news and lounging about the pool and hot tub culminated in a trip down Comical Street to the farmer's market by Town Hall. I came away with something I can't get in Boston: a jar of beach plum jam.
3) Then all of a sudden it was time to prepare for the White Party. I really couldn't get excited about my own outfit and ended up opting for the classic simplicity of one of the white cotton shirts I got in Greece with some brand-new boxer briefs and my boater. Not even a string of pearls. At the party one friend even said I appeared "dignified," which is really NOT what the WP is about.
3a) In the words of the late Mr. Babcock, "Undignified?! At least I'm wearing a vest!"
Comical Street spectators got into the act.
4) We three took off a whisper before 2 PM (the start of the party) and headed down Comical Street resplendent in our white. Lawn chairs were starting to come out up the street to observe the Passing Show. Soon we noticed white-clad revelers behind and before us, all "bent on pleasure" as they say in the novels.
4a) In front of one house a sizeable group had gathered along with a boom box playing "Stayin' Alive" and Kate Clinton Herself with a microphone. I was able to kiss her hand and say "I've always loved you, and here you are" before passing along.
5) The party was in full swing by the time we arrived at 2:12 PM, and there was already a line for check-in being kept in line by the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. And what a surprise, the representative of the beneficiary organization checking everyone in was someone I had to work closely with on a work event 20 years ago! OH MY GOD, IT'S YOU!
6) I was taught early on that on arrival it's best to go to the bar furthest from the entrance and get two drinks, because later the lines get so long. Happily for me, friends were already congregated in that particular area, and after I'd loaded up with two G&Ts we cowered in the shade of a cottage for a bit catching up.
It reads "Really Cheeto, $130K?"
7) The costumes included a New England clambake, ABBA, the last two living white rhinos, Marilyn Monroe, some fabulous Louis XIV headdresses made out of toilet paper rolls, translucent hazmat suits, a group of manscapers with some frightening lawn equipment, a knee-length hoop skirt made of peonies, floor-length hoop skirts with no skirts and almost nothing but legs under them, and the usual number of sailors, tennis players, drag queens, speedos, and underwear. I saw only one parody of Melania Trump's jacket. The WP is always somewhat risqué, so I also enjoyed the semi-transparency of a few lace gowns and gym shorts.
7a) At the party I came up with two possible themes for costumes (for someone else) to wear next year: a) "Eat at Sal's" and b) "Ingmar Bergman Mary Poppins." Add to this the drag name we came up with at lunch Friday: Announcia Prevençion.
8) The beach had been augmented this year with an artificially high dune just outside the property boundary. It didn't stop the party from spilling over to the beach, as usual. Only later did I hear about the extensive flood damage to the property because of the winter storms.
9) File under Nel mezzo del camin' di nostra vita: this year medical issues got talked about more. I noticed canes for the first time (not as part of a costume, that is), and symptoms and diagnoses were mentioned to me in no less than three conversations.
10) Finalmente, it was time to ankle off to tea, which I did with two friends, running the gauntlet with two friends and passing by this shoe-warning sign at ye Ryd Ynne.
11) My one anxiety about tea after the WP is having to wait in line at ye Bytteslyppe to pay the cover charge; everyone else has a townie pass. This year only the most negligible line, and it moved quickly, so yay!
12) We stood in the shadows and chatted over drinks, gradually watching the deck become overcrowded. Miss Gogo was certainly working at double-quick time behind the bar! When the entire experience became too claustro for me, I let a phone call take me out to Comical Street.
13) All good things must come to an end, and back at the house we three opted for an early dinner at Liz's (superb chicken milanese), and then The Great British Baking Show after I'd had a quick promenade to Town Hall and back. Interesting to see how much drama and suspense they can coax out of these situations.
This begins four days in Provincetown to celebrate the End of Official Summer.
1) About 4 AM, I moved to get out of bed and before I knew it . . . CHARLEY HORSE! That all too familiar feeling of a hot vibrating baseball being injected into my right calf. God, the pain! It happened so quickly I actually cried out. My calf seized up as hard as a rock, but then vibrated intensely as it tried to relax. It went on much longer than previous experiences, at least twice getting to the point where it was almost done and then hardening like a rock again. Agony.
2) Number Ten in line to board the Salacious after a bleary morning of final packing, coffee, and paying the bills.
2a)
3) Got my banquette seat (so important for me) and wrote for about 20 minutes during boarding. A nice lady of my generation took the other half and we exchanged pleasantries as the ship's concierge - a well-known personality who always seems to have a lot to say over the PA system - warned us that we'd be in for a rough ride. I am happy to say that I myself was able to handle what came with equanimity, but some other passengers were less fortunate.
4) Andy, God bless him, came to collect me at the ferry, and we caught up on a lot on the drive home. His partner Robert was already at home, and I learned that lunch guests would be arriving shortly. Turns out that the lunch guests and I have more than a few friends in common. We're trying to figure out why we don't already know each other!
4a) During lunch (BLTs, pasta salad, and excellent rosé), and afterward in the hot tub, there was a lot of musical theatre talk, travel talk, and stories of best hotel experiences.
5) After a NAP that I really needed, I conducted some minor plastic surgery and we headed off to tea. The usual crush revealed no one I knew, but I met some of Andy and Robert's friends, got to see Miss Gogo at the bar, and then at last was able to catch up with Brandon. Now Brandon and I are in the same high school class, and Andy graduated the year before us, so I was very excited to have an impromptu IAA Boys Rendezvous! And to my delight Brandon had no plans for dinner and accompanied us to Saki P'town.
5a) The first of three OH MY GOD IT'S YOU! moments took place as we were leaving tea. I recognized an acquaintance outside tea who was delighted to see me - and I him, except I can't remember his name.
6) Saki P'town is upstairs next to Town Hall, and I remember it vividly as the original venue for Ryan Landry's Showgirls! back in the 1990s. It is now quite a glam-ish Asian restaurant with high ceilings, wonderful art, and a great menu.
6a) I still remember vividly that night in 1996 or 1997 during Showgirls! when, in that very room, Miss Sandy Krack sang "He Likes to Nibble on My Cupcakes" while stuffing cupcakes first into her décolletage and then directly into her control top pantyhose after hiking up her skirt.
7) We were seated in a booth in the balcony and shortly had the second OH MY GOD IT'S YOU moment when Mark and Zane recognized my voice from the next booth. What fun!
8) A delicious dinner (gyoza followed by scallops for me) included conversation about Eartha Kitt, Tom Lehrer, Washington, and a lot of "Whatever happened to . . . " and stories of misbehavior from high school.
Brandon, me, and Andy after dinner, sounding the call for IAA. I picked this spot for the lighting. :-)
8) Promenading down Comical Street, the third and last OH MY GOD IT'S YOU moment came when I suddenly found myself within three feet of my old roommate Robert and his husband Jim. OH MY GOD, IT'S YOU!
9) Next stop: The Shipwreck, aka the Wreck (Andy's nickname for it) or the Sweater Bar (mine). We got to inhabit the orange-cushioned conversation pit in the corner, how rare! And how fortunate I was wearing a flattering, contrasting blue. But after an hour or so, it was time to move along.
10) The stars always appear more clearly here, and Mars, Venus, and the Milky Way were pointed out to me as well as the Big Dipper, which is one of only two constellations I can recognize unaided. On clear nights here, it's the best thing.
11) Tomorrow will be a big day - White Party! - so hopin' for a solid night's sleep.
1) My excitement over National Toasted Marshmallow Day this year had led me to sleep very badly the last two nights. This led to a sort of existential meltdown yesterday afternoon (after beginning the day so happily), and I am hoping not for a repeat today.
2) Impromptu pool party last night made moving from one air-conditioned space to another during a heat wave more pleasanter. :-) Plus, good talk!
3) Just keepin' on keepin' on, ready for a beautiful Labor Day weekend on the Cape.
1) Back porch coffee at 5:45 AM. The dazzling, perfect whiteness of the just-waning moon. Teh barely-cool breeze indicates a hot day to come.
1a) Yes, I know "dazzling" is overused, but it's accurate.
2) Preparing a fun Etiquetteer post for tomorrow . . .
3) The news.