The Voices in my Head December 30, 2006

My personal maid, Emmaline, (whose position, were she not a member of the so called fairer sex, would be more accurately titled valet, for her duties are much more akin to those of a man’s valet than those of a traditional ladies maid) despite ample evidence to the contrary, still harbors the cherished belief that mine is a terribly glamorous and a horribly romantic life. This belief, as I have mentioned, is in err. It is true that I have gained a certain notoriety, both as a performer and in other, more dubious areas but the assuming and removing of stage makeup and costume, the interminable hours of rehearsal and fittings, the voice training in both dialect and singing and myriad other obligations necessary to me due to my choice of stage performer as career are hardly those of glamour. And of romance, there is none.

I call myself a stage performer but to give the impression that I engage in vaudevillian acts would not be strictly accurate. Actress would perhaps be closer to the truth but I feel, doesn’t embrace the scope of my abilities (or perhaps it does embrace the scope of my abilities but not that of my performance.) In addition to acting I have been known to sing, and dance. In point of fact, my first employment with a theatre was as a dancer. I was in the chorus for several shows performed by the Paris ballet during the 1903 season. But it was quite obvious very early on that I was not destined to be a prima ballarina. It was from there, through various contacts and associates, that I was “discovered” for my acting and began my career as an actress. In the course of which career I have been called upon to sing as well. Beginning with the odd part in which ever play by Mr.s Gilbert and Sullivan was popular that year and crowned by a lead in Rigoletto, a part at which, if I was not actually bad I was at least spectacularly average. But by that point I had gained enough notoriety as a performer that no one seemed to care and the show not only played out its full schedule, there were more dates added. In fact that particular show might still be running were it not for the fact that I was under contract to begin another show elsewhere.

This girl, as yet unnamed, but I’m thinking Brigette, has been wandering around in my head lately. She’s British but was raised in Paris and well, there’s more but I’ll have to write the book so that you get to know all about her. She’s the one that’s going to let me use all those delicious 50 cent words that I want to use so badly. Odds are that she won’t really get to live until I’m in a position to devote a lot more time to writing than I can now but I thought I’d share with whoever wanted to hear about her just the same.

Happy New Year!- Al

The Season December 21, 2006

I’m a natural pessimist. I can always be counted to pop whatever balloon of happiness you have going on. (in reality I do try not to rain on the parades of others out loud, but if you were in my head, well it’s a whole other story) The point is that I’ve had several topics to post rolling around in my head the last day or two, things like how annoying it is when you think you’re done Christmas shopping only to get a package from aunt Sally or your brother-in-law Ned or the lady down the street who’s dog keeps you up at night and you now feel obligated to get them a gift. Or about how most of the time these days my fondest dream is to be able to sleep in as long as I want and then get up and lie on a sunny beach reading all day. Without children.

But in the interest of the season I’m not going to (not any more than I already have anyway) instead I’m going to pat myself on the back for the fact that while my children were out playing in the snow the other day I didn’t do the dishes and I didn’t sit down with a good book, I didn’t even log on to the internet. I got out a pot and filled it with water and warmed it on the stove. Then I got out two blankets and set them in front of the TV and then I picked out a DVD. So, when my two rosy cheeked cherubs came in I helped then out of their cold wet clothes, cheerfully and without one grumble concerning wet or dirty floors. I got them into clean dry clothes and then served up hot (warm) chocolate while each snuggled into his or her own blanket and watched Charlotte’s web.

And you know what? It was fun.

Odds are most of you are saying, well duh! But I’m not a real doting mom, I never have been. I’m not crafty and I’m not patient so I don’t do those kinds of cute projects and I often don’t have time to do those kinds of things but it was fun enough that I may make the time. And in that spirit I’ve found myself sitting smiling as they endlessly arrange and rearrange the gifts under the tree, I remember doing that and I’ve decided that that’s part of the wonder of Christmas (something that I really miss as an adult) so I let them even though they make a mess of the living room not to mention losing tags and bows and tearing wrapping-paper.

The point? It’s the same old one you get in so many places this season (and if it sounds trite bear in mind that it’s foreign to my nature), but in view of this night at work (trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to hear about what’s going on here at the children’s hospital tonight): It’s time to slow down and enjoy what you have going on right in front of you. Hug your kids when you can and every once in a while just smile and let them get excited, even when it makes a mess. And if you can’t do it this week when can you?

-Al

Going against my nature December 21, 2006

I’m a natural pessimist. I can always be counted to pop whatever balloon of happiness you have going on. (in reality I do try not to rain on the parades of others out loud, but if you were in my head, well it’s a whole other story) The point is that I’ve had several topics to post rolling around in my head the last day or two, things like how annoying it is when you think you’re done Christmas shopping only to get a package from aunt Sally or your brother-in-law Ned or the lady down the street who’s dog keeps you up at night and you now feel obligated to get them a gift. Or about how most of the time these days my fondest dream is to be able to sleep in as long as I want and then get up and lie on a sunny beach reading all day. Without children.

But in the interest of the season I’m not going to (not any more than I already have anyway) instead I’m going to pat myself on the back for the fact that while my children were out playing in the snow the other day I didn’t do the dishes and I didn’t sit down with a good book, I didn’t even log on to the internet. I got out a pot and filled it with water and warmed it on the stove. Then I got out two blankets and set them in front of the TV and then I picked out a DVD. So, when my two rosy cheeked cherubs came in I helped then out of their cold wet clothes, cheerfully and without one grumble concerning wet or dirty floors. I got them into clean dry clothes and then served up hot (warm) chocolate while each snuggled into his or her own blanket and watched Charlotte’s web.

And you know what? It was fun.

Odds are most of you are saying, well duh! But I’m not a real doting mom, I never have been. I’m not crafty and I’m not patient so I don’t do those kinds of cute projects and I often don’t have time to do those kinds of things but it was fun enough that I may make the time. And in that spirit I’ve found myself sitting smiling as they endlessly arrange and rearrange the gifts under the tree, I remember doing that and I’ve decided that that’s part of the wonder of Christmas (something that I really miss as an adult) so I let them even though they make a mess of the living room not to mention losing tags and bows and tearing wrapping-paper.

The point? It’s the same old one you get in so many places this season (and if it sounds trite bear in mind that it’s foreign to my nature), but in view of this night at work (trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to hear about what’s going on here at the children’s hospital tonight): It’s time to slow down and enjoy what you have going on right in front of you. Hug your kids when you can and every once in a while just smile and let them get excited, even when it makes a mess. And if you can’t do it this week when can you?

Lift up your voice, lift up your voice December 7, 2006

I have a tendency to sing. I do it out loud and I do it quite a bit. Now, I have a decent voice, musical talent runs in my family and I’ve sung in various choirs and whatnot, but I don’t (entirely) sing because I think I sound great. I will admit that sometimes I do think I sound great, sometimes not so much. I do it because I like to, and because I’m not afraid to.

There’s mention in The Devine Secrets of the Yaya Sisterhood of the fact that “When I was a girl people used to whistle all the time. (This is almost certainly misquoted, but it was something to that effect.) and now they don’t.” I believe that the same could be said about singing. I believe that people used to sing. Look at the numbers of negro spirituals there are out there, these are songs that were sung while picking cotton, a job that has to be amazingly boring and monotonous (while being quite physically taxing at the same time) but people still pick cotton (I think) and people definitely do things that are equally boring these days. How about working on an assembly line, or quality control, or surgery… (no, I’m getting off the point) My point is that people are still doing tedious jobs but they’re not singing to entertain themselves any more. Why not?

I have a few theories, I imagine that the truth is really a combination of all of them. The first is that with the rise of recording music has become something one could specialize in. While I’m sure talent in that area has always been recognized and appreciated it used to be that the miller had an inspiring deep baritone that was a pleasure to listen to, but he was still the miller. Now he’s the singer and he buys his flour from someone else. With the recognition of that talent comes the inferiority complexes of those who don’t have it. Most of the rest of the theories stem from mass media. Now that we have music recorded we have music with us every where we go. We don’t need to sing while we grocery shop because Muzak has taken care of that for us. And while we sit doing quality control we have our headphones on and our I-pods (I’ll save my rant on Apple for another day) blasting.

Then there’s the fact that singing is usually a group thing. Sure you can solo, I do it a lot but not because I necessarily want to, it’s because not one else will join in. And people are just not that friendly anymore. We don’t even smile at strangers, we certainly wouldn’t sing with them. And apparently we wouldn’t sing for them either. What the heck happened to Carolers?

Perhaps I’m not the one to lecture on reaching out to your fellow men, I’m blogging here, not actually talking after all but I find this sad. I find all of it really sad. C’mon, it’s Christmas, it’s the time of year when we’re supposed to be neighborly. So, I’d like to encourage all within the sound of my blog to do it. Sing. Like I said before it’s Christmas, you know the words to that song wafting overhead while you stand in line to buy gifts, and if you don’t you certainly know the tune, hum it, whistle it. Sing it a little. Maybe you’ll get some strange looks, aren’t you tough enough to take that? Do it for me, you won’t be alone. As I said I sing a lot, this time of year pretty much everywhere I go.

-Al

P.S. For those who really take this to heart check this website out.

Chestnuts roasting on a house fire December 1, 2006

Do you suppose anyone has ever burnt their house down just to avoid having to clean it again? I was just wondering.
-Al

Untitled December 1, 2006

For those of you who are not interested in hearing me complain go ahead and skip the next 2 paragraphs.

On Tuesday, November 14 I sent out 5 queries to agents. I am reasonably sure that said queries were received, I got noting back from the yahoo postmaster stating otherwise and I have gotten about 60 hits on my website since that time (that may not sound like much and It’s not if you’re googol but I’ll be first to tell you I don’t have a lot of traffic, 60 hits in 60 days would be a lot) a link to which was included in the afore-mentioned queries. But I have not had one direct response. Not one “thanks but no thanks” form letter, not one “Interesting, I’m reading the first 8 chapters (which are posted on the website) and I’ll get back to you”, nothing at all. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??!!! Admittedly, some of the websites of the individuals that I queried did ask me to allow four weeks for a response, and I will certainly continue to wait, but honestly, four weeks for an email?! This is the information age people!

If you, dear reader, happen to be one of said agents, by all means, take your time. Look over the first 8 chapters, check out the blog and whatever else you may want to. But if it’s not too much trouble a simple “Hey, I got your email and I’m thinking about it” would be really, really appreciated. That’s it, I’m done. That’s the last you’ll ever hear from me on this topic.

On to other topics.

I’ve been reading and/or listening to the Amelia Peabodys again. Can tell you how much I love these books? I LOVE THESE BOOKS!!! I love the period, I love the characters, I love Amelia’s loquaciousness, and I adore the tongue in cheek comments and the dry humor. Mostly I love the style in which they’re written. I love the language, Elizabeth Peters (actually Barbara Mertz) doesn’t write with the rich warmth of, say, Jodi Picoult (whose books you want to wrap yourself up in) but the characters are so well drawn, especially thorough their dialogue, that you do feel very much like you’ve spent hours in the parlor sipping tea, or possibly whiskey and soda, with them. Every time I read these books I’m inspired to write one (or more) of the same genre. I wouldn’t even attempt until such a time as I could write full time in order to have the opportunity to do the kind of research that would be necessary but I would really, really love to get to do it, when else do you get to use words like recumbent, pedantic, verbosity and mendacious? These are words I need to use. I have a few ideas about a book (probably a series actually) set in the same, turn of the 19th century, time period rattling around in my head. Maybe I’ll even get to follow through at some point.

Speaking of follow through: for anyone who cares we did get the furnace replaced, and not a moment too soon, it got down to 9 degrees the other day. It’s amazing how much better a new furnace (even one that’s only 80% efficient) heats the house than one that’s nearly 60 yrs old. Go figure. And since it now looks like IHC, sorry Intermountain, is going to come through with Christmas bonuses, sorry “end of the year thank yous,” (newspeak anyone?) it looks like the kids are getting Christmas after all

Well, that’s about all I have for the moment. Thanks for coming, come again
-Al