CHAIRS

October 28, 2020

     I'm trying not to think about politics and going for more introspective stuff.  Basically my biggest issue right now is trying to take care of my body and not overdue it.  It takes more discipline for me to stop what I'm doing and rest than to do something like exercise or clean my kitchen.  If I had my way, I would work out for a few hours and then chill a little, but lately my 64 year old body has cried "uncle".  So I can only do something for about 10 minutes and then I have to rest.  Yesterday, once again I asked for help and it is still one of the hardest things I have to do in this life.  I needed a very old beat up chair taken out of my apartment, and a very heavy love seat moved.  I asked two friends, Laura and Linda for their help and they did things very quickly.  I have been told to get rid of this chair for about 15 years.  Once my brother came over and asked when I was getting rid of it because the stuffing was coming out of the arm rests.  He then started pulling out the stuffing.  Then my cousin came to see my new place in Chagrin Falls and was so impressed with everything.  The house, the furniture that wasn't all mine, even my landlord/housemate.  He had fixed the upstairs and made it into a suite for his son and his family.  They moved out and he rented it to me.  We shared the downstairs which was amazing.  She commented on how my mother would have loved the place.  Then she stopped short when she saw this chair.  Her whole demeanor changed and she said, "Chrissy."  She said it like I had taken a dump on the floor.  So after that embarrassing moment, I kept a quilt on it.  Then I had to move and didn't have a couch anymore, so I took the chair with me and kept it covered.  My friend Amy was really concerned about this chair. Her and her husband gave me a beautiful leather love seat that they no longer used right before Covid.  They even delivered it from their home which was an hour away with a very kind friend of theirs.  I have a small place and this looks good and is very comfortable.  I thanked them via text and Amy texted, "Now we need to talk about that chair."  So after the chair was gone yesterday,  I sent Amy the picture of the apartment without the chair.  The weird Naugahyde chair that you fall into because the seat was so worn down.  The chair that my parents bought with a love seat over 40 years ago.  The one I can see from my window in the trash.  The one I actually fell out of trying to get up from.  And then, tripped over a cord, landed on my face causing my crutch to fall on my pinky and breaking it this past March.  The one that my 4 year old nephew said 21 years ago, "Aunt Chris, this is the most comfortable chair I have ever sat in."  Kids!!

ZOOM

October 6, 2020

I was blessed to have a beautiful birthday weekend with beautiful people and it seems to still go on.  I have gotten lovely messages on Facebook and emails and texts along with birthday cards.  I didn't realize how empty my life was without friends, until last week my high school besties and I had a ZOOM meeting.  Kathy, Pam and Danna.  These are people that seem to have stuck by me no matter how much of a goof I have been. We lost touch with Kathy and I finally found her.  I met these women in junior high in band and they are still as kind as I remember.  One of the things that's apparent with these three women is that they are all in the business of service.  All I wanted growing up was to be an actor.  Danna is an R.N., Pam was a social worker and now a retired teacher and Kathy was a social worker and now a teacher. Had I been paying more attention, I would have seen how giving these women have been to others.  We talked a great deal about my friend Kathy's parents who both had Alzheimer's or dementia before they passed.  I kept thinking of her parents and the kindness they showed me.  I couldn't imagine them getting old.  All three seemed to have such a stable upbringing.  After talking with them, I felt happier and that I was home, if that makes any sense.  Basically, when things were tough in school or wherever, I knew I could count on them and they had my back, so to speak.  And I still feel like they do.  I have written about my friend Danna who was an R.N. at the hospital I was taken to after I broke my back.  But Kathy came two times from Cleveland to Columbus to see me and might have even taken off work to do so.  Then she sent me a card every day and I was in the hospital for 10 weeks.  Pam came with Kathy once and since it was fall, they brought a pumpkin and decorated it for me.  I got out the day before Danna's wedding and was able to enjoy the festivities. I moved back in with my parents and Kathy and Pam made sure I got out and socialized.  We are sort of scattered around the country now, but I still feel honored to know these women and that we are still friends.  I can't explain the feeling, but again, it felt like I was HOME.  

AUGUST 20, 2020

 I'm at a loss for what to say.  It has been the most unusual time in my 63 years.  I like slowing down with this virus.  I like that I don't spend as much money and have to think about creative ways to see people I love.  I like that I care more about our government.  I like that friends are so generous that they always ask what I need.  

I miss my hugs from certain folk that energized me.  Some held on a little bit longer than others.  Some looked at me like we hadn't seen each other in years when it was only a week.  I notice my body seems to fall apart when I'm sad and I must be sad a lot, because I could barely get out of bed a couple days this week.  I wasn't in a great deal of pain, but the exhaustion was overwhelming.  I think that even though I'm sad about the state of our country, I'm more upset at how divided we are and how cruel one side is to the other.  And I see that in the Trump supporters as well as the Biden supporters.  I am a Biden/Harris supporter.  I know a Trump supporter that is a born again Christian and she wouldn't dream of saying some of the cruel things that some of the Biden supporters have spewed.  I just don't think Martin Luther King wanted us to be nasty.  I wrote that Iyanla Vanzant said something about that it was time for us to figure out personally, who's neck we are kneeling on and who's kneeling on ours.  I can think of a few people I have knelt on and kept kneeling. With all this time to reflect, my smart ass comments to others are a little bit less than before and my smirking doesn't happen as much.  I'm learning slowly.  As I hope others are.

SEYMOUR AVE.

April 9, 2019

     It was a beautiful spring day last week and I was eager to go to the grocery store but instead I took a drive to just look around my town.  And my journey took me to Seymour Ave. where Ariel Castro held Amanda Berry, Michelle Knight and Gina DeJesus were held captive.  I kept asking myself why would I do this.  I think a big part was just that curiosity one has when they see an accident on the freeway and they just have to slow down and look, but there was something else.  I could not believe that this happened so close to where I live and that nobody knew for over a decade.  There were people outside that day and the house has since been demolished, but all I could think of was how out of touch we can be with each other. I wondered if people were walking outside all those years when those girls were being raped repeatedly and beaten.  In my old apartment, I have had neighbors who lived below me knock on my door to see if I was ok because they heard me fall.   I realized that I don't have a clue how much others are suffering.  I don't want to commiserate and hear sob stories, but I just wonder when I see an acquaintance on Facebook, or a fellow actor on TV looking so happy, what they are really going through.   So many people have been so "there" for me when I have had a problem or a crisis.  But none of us knew what was happening to these beautiful young women. When I came home, I told a friend what I had done with great embarrassment questioning my sanity. I went on line and saw Michelle Knight on Dr. Phil telling him that she was now married and was giving inspirational talks around the country. She looked so happy.  She had no support from her family when she got out, yet she survived and I think that was the big lesson for me. That she survived and thrived.  And maybe  that's why on that beautiful sunny day I took a drive.  

BULLIES

     When I was 16, I was in geometry or algebra.  One of those, and there was a boy in our class who was teased a lot.  He didn't say much, but for some reason, he was the scapegoat.  Once the teacher left the room, the bad boy in class came up to him with a book and smacked the side of his head with it and then the other side and did it over and over.  Nobody did a thing, including me.  I was more shocked than anything. I don't recall if we laughed or what.   After class I told the teacher and on my walk home from school the next day, the bully asked me if I knew who ratted on him and I lied and said that I didn't know.  He said it was probably that fat Cathy.  And once again, I didn't say anything.  

    When I was in the 5th grade, a boy was made fun of a lot and I don't remember why. We'll call him Sam.  One day on our playground, another boy named Peter fell and broke his arm.  His mother came to our class and asked what happened.  It seemed the boys were chasing him and he fell.  After she left, the teacher asked the boys more questions.  The boys said that they were playing and Sam said, "There's Peter!", so they ran toward Peter and Peter ran from them and fell.  The teacher asked why they would listen to Sam.  Then she said something awful.  She said, "Anyone who listens to Sam ought to have their head examined."  Everybody laughed.  I kept wondering what happened to Sam.  I finally saw him at the grocery store and said hi.  His face looked so old.  Like he'd had such a hard life.  He didn't really hold his head up.  I apologized for not sticking up for him that day.  He didn't really remember the incident and told me not to worry about it, but I wondered what his life had been like all these years.  I never found out what happened to the boy who's head was slammed with a book but I wish I had stuck up for these boys more.

    All of us want to belong and find a group we can feel safe in.  In one of my jobs as an adult,  a woman I worked with had some social issues and was made fun of a lot. Mostly, she didn't know how to hang out with people and just chill. I have to say, I had a hard time dealing with her as well and stayed away from her.  But when it came down to it, she worked very hard, and did a great job.  She was a good person.  I did say a few things behind her back when I was overwhelmed by her.  She wanted to be friends and I just couldn't do it.  Once she said something trying to be funny and I said something rude to her.  I then apologized but the damage was done.  Years later a friend of hers saw me and said she just wanted to be more like me.  

    People have stuck up for me at various times when I needed it.  I have been welcomed into groups at different times in my life, and its been wonderful.  Even at age 62, I need a tribe.  When I was very young, some of my friends dissed me.  They would do all they could to stay away.  It was heartbreaking and I couldn't figure out why.  It then occurred to me to get new friends.  I don't know why we feel a need when we get in a group to make fun of someone, even as adults. We seem to think that we bond better with the others. Sometimes I think not speaking up for someone is almost as bad as the blatant head bashing or gossip.

MARVIN'S ROOM

It's been almost a month since I went to New York and I have to say, I think I laughed the entire time I was there.  I met my friends Wendy and Elane that I haven't seen in thirty years, and it was as if no time had passed.  My friend Beth picked me up which made things so much easier than taking a taxi, and Elane was there waiting in front of the hotel.  We screamed when we saw each other and then Wendy and I screamed again when I saw her in the hotel room.  This screaming thing had to stop, but I just didn't give a shit.   I couldn't move after the plane ride so I rested while Wendy and Elane went out to dinner with one of Wendy's friends.  Wendy knows so many people in the "biz", as she was not only a professional stage manager but also a talent agent in New York.  So, this friend was stage managing "Hamilton" that evening.  Ya, "Hamilton".  We don't mess around people.  Elane brought me back food and it was delicious.  We stayed right in Times Square and I highly recommend the Knickerbocker Hotel where you can go up on the roof at night and have drinks and hors de'oeurves.  We met our friend Barry from college who is now a talent agent in New York.  He was just how I remember him.  Very funny.  He had many stories to share.  When we got back to our room, there was a bottle of champagne waiting for us.  The "Hamilton" stage manager was also a concierge at this hotel. He was actually filling in for another stage manager that evening.  But I mean "Hamilton". Just sayin'.

The next day we had breakfast in Tribeca and then we went to see our friend's play, Marvin's Room.  It wasn't a long walk, but Elane got a wheelchair from the hotel for me.  It was great.  I had not been in Times Square in years and to me, it's like Disneyland for adults.  Wendy was annoyed with how things had  changed.  There were so many ads for things like, Subway, and Dunkin Donuts.  I mean big huge, ridiculous lit up signs.  We saw the play and we were disappointed.  I mean, thrilled that Scott's play finally got on Broadway.  But the execution wasn't as good as we hoped.  Something was missing.  One person said that the set was too big for the performance.  Wendy thought maybe the energy was low because it was a Saturday afternoon and they had a performance the night before.  Lily Taylor, Janine Garafalo, and Celia Weston are all performers that I have loved for years.  Wendy said the director should be shot.  I wouldn't go that far.  It was still fun to see our buddy Scott's play on Broadway.  

That night we met our friend Barry again along with Jon Miller for dinner.  Of course, our waitress was an actress and she caught Barry on his way to the restroom to tell him about her showcase.  She found out he was an agent from me and she also overheard us talking.  When I knew Jon in college, he was a kind, respectful man.  I got to know him a little bit that summer before I broke my back.  It was great to see him.  He read us a funny letter that Scott had written to him.  Barry told us that when Scott's brother died in Sept. 1980, Scott sat outside of his parents house and talked to his friends.  Then he wrote a play about his brother's passing at the encouragement of our dear professor, George Sherman.  Barry said everything he shared at the picnic table was in the play.  Then Barry called our friend Steve Apostolina in California.  He does a ton of voice overs and he is always writing plays.  It was great to talk to him.  He was a good friend of Scott's.  He saw Marvin's Room many times all over the country and spent a great deal of time with Scott when he got really sick.  I am embarrassed to say, I did not see Scott before he died.  I just didn't have the money to go to Chicago.  But I did talk to him.  I loved sharing the viewing of his play with my dear friends.  It was one of my most memorable vacations. I said goodbye to these two crazy women and  Wendy did her signature "goodbye" to me as I got on the taxi to take me to the airport which is to lift her shirt up and expose her breasts.  Only this time she didn't have a bra on.  Scott would have loved it.  

We love you Scotty

I laughed, I cried and I went into labor.

SCOTT

                                                                                                              May, 19, 2017

     I am very excited about going to New York to see the play, "Marvin's Room" written by Scott McPherson. I am lucky that I got to know Scott in college.  I had a terrible crush on him and it didn't take me long to realize that he didn't feel the same. It was fine by me.  I loved being friends with him.  He was writing when we were in an improv group the summer before I broke my back, but at the suggestion of our professor, he wrote a play about the death of his brother which happened that fall.  I couldn't figure out why he was coming to Columbus so much to visit me in the hospital and here his brother was in a motorcycle accident and he was killed.  So Scott was going back and forth to Columbus to be with his family and would stop by and see me.  One thing he used to say after he saw a play was, "I laughed.  I cried.  I went into labor."  He was so cute and so sweet.  After he found out I was paralyzed and in the hospital, he immediately sent flowers.  My mother met him and could not get over how kind he was.  The first to call, the first to send flowers.  When I found out from other friends that his brother was killed, I felt horrible.  Then he called and I asked about it.  I was depressed myself and this just about sent me over the edge.  I didn't know what to say except if there was anything that I could ever do to help him, to please let me know.  He said the same thing back.  I told him that I was so sad, that I didn't want to see anyone, and Scott said that maybe I didn't need to see them, but they needed to see me.  For some reason, that made me feel better and I could accept visitors a little more graciously.  He told me that so many people came to his parents' house with food after his brother was killed and they really didn't need anymore food, but their friends needed to bring it.  What a sweet thing.  One time when he was visiting, he asked me if I ever heard about the man who had a horrible illness and healed himself with laughter.  I said yes and he said, "Well....", and he started making faces at me.  It was very funny without being funny.  He told me years later why he came out of the closet.  He said that after his brother died he was making tea and looked at the teabag with two sides.  He said he could either look at it as a bad thing or look at it like a great reminder to live life to the fullest.  He said that he was always attracted to men, but would never tell anyone. He didn't know what people would think of him.  He said he realized that we could die tomorrow, and it wouldn't matter what people thought of him. So that was it.  He came out.  And after college moved to Chicago.  Then came Marvin's Room.  And then he got sick.  When I spoke to him, he seemed to manage his illness so well.  Then it really escalated and his boyfriend, Daniel Sotomayer died from complications of AIDS. Right after Daniel died, Scott was in the hospital and  I asked how he felt about everything.  First he said, "Well there is that new fall lineup happening on ABC."  Always a joke.  He then said how lucky he was and most people don't get to have such love in their life like he had with Daniel.  Scott was only 33 when he died in 1993.  Too young.  

     I am meeting two friends that knew him.  Wendy and Elane.  I haven't seen these two in 30 years.  Wendy was much closer to Scott than I was. Elane and I did stand up comedy together in school.  They are as crazy as I am.  It will be quite a reunion.  Hopefully, I will laugh, I will cry, and I will go into labor.