We will do whatever it takes

8/18

Three cardboard beds to remove this morning. At least the guys are keeping things relatively clean in the morning. Steps are getting scrappier though and  I’m not really up to doing anything about it. 

Clifford the plumber comes to check out the rusted through pipes that let the water pour through into the church. And to do an estimate on repairing a janitor’s sink for Woodshed. And unclogging the drains in the restrooms. We need to get the Landmarks Conservancy in on the big pipes, he’d reported them during his earlier work. 

John H comes in with a locksmith to open our window signs for which we no longer have keys. Of course he wants to get up info about his own Dark Lady  production, but its also time to get all the outdated signs down. By the time he’s done, there are new signs, a sign with information for potential renters and the most recent newspaper articles from the Times and the Spirit on Woodshed and West-Park. We’ve needed this. 

A young woman, Savan,  comes in and asks about the Dark Lady players. She’s on her way to work at Good Enough to Eat where she’s a server and saw the signs. I tell her all about the DLP and also the Woodshed production. And then I give her a mini-tour of a few rooms and ask Jillian for a Woodshed postcard. Her eyes widen as she looks around. I ask her about her name. Persian, from Iran.

Chad comes in. A professional organist. Wants to know if we still function as a church. I tell him our story. He currently plays for a church in Harlem. Wants to play the organ. Tell him it hasn’t been played since Samir died a couple of July’s ago. Not sure what it would  take to get it going again. It has its own story. Austin hybrid. A line of eccentric organists all left their own marks. Big bass pipes found under the sanctuary, never installed. Copper pipes stolen and sold to buy crack during the 80’s. It’s role in a series of music wars during my day. The wheezing note that was stuck. (Keep that, i can use that, said Bill Schimmel, accordionist/keyboardist extraordinaire  during his time here.) I take down his name. Would love to see it come alive again. 

The Woodshed folks are timing Trelkowsky’s costume change, harness rigging and run to his leaping place on the balcony with a stopwatch. Still trying to get the final scene down to the split second. Thirty-nine seconds, I hear someone say. Followed by applause. 

Take a break. Walking down 86th to Starbucks, I run into Sarah Sayeed from The Interfaith Center.  She becomes the third person to recommend Sarnos book on healing back pain. I had no idea it was so common. Just as I had no idea how many live with chornic pain. How hard it is to see through the fog and focus. 

RL brings by a load of plaster for the bathrooms. We’ve got to work out a plan when Danielle returns. And talk about a memorial concert for the P & G’s crowd. Tim has come along to help him. 

Finally Katherine. She’s been working all day on a letter to our city council member, Gale Brewer. The church and the Center Board are quite concerned about the looming crisis with the boiler. We need action, now. And just in case, we start going through our catalogues prepared in advance of the devloment that never  happened. Looking for what we could sell to buy the boiler. The Tiffany chairs? Settee? Antique glass? Silver? We have to be ready to do that. And everything is now stowed under the church. We will do whatever it takes. 

The cast and crew of the Tenant is assembled in the sanctuary. Final director’s notes and instructions before tonight’s performance. 

I head to the yard to sit quietly before heading home. it’s been a long day.