Thursday, January 24, 2013

A message from the prophet


It is seriously cold outside. 

The director of New York City Opera, George Steel, has come with one of his associates. NYCO was once called the Peoples’ Opera. The popular alternative to the Met across the Lincoln Center  plaza. Beverly Sills’ baby. Former diva  home of of our old friend Lauren. Peripatetic since leaving Lincoln Center for a life as singing nomads around the city. Every space we go into, George claps his hands or sings a note or two to test the acoustics. Checking to see of West-Park might be an appropriate site for one of their productions. 

Marc and Stephen have gathered all our materials  for Hurricane Sandy relief and sorted and bagged them getting the ready for delivery. The three b's: Blankets, boots, batteries....and also warm coats...and the emergency packages made under Lily's direction. We’ve collected more than I thought we had. It’s all in Mc Alpin Hall,  ready to go.

Sandy relief bagged and ready to go

Long conversation with the director of Hudson Warehouse Theater Company. I’ve enjoyed their outdoor productions every summer in Riverside Park at the base of the Soldiers and Sailors Memorial. Last Sunday, I attended their Shakespeare in a bar event at the Underground. It was a 2 hour cut of Othello by our own John H of the Dark Lady Players. We met there and he’s come here  to check out West-Park as a venue.

Late in  the afternoon, I notice the Prophet sitting on a pew in our narthex. I’m getting ready to leave. Soon. He can’t be there. He's only in here because of the bitter cold. I ask him if he has a place to go. He nods yes, his straw hat bobbing. Takes out paper and a pen, begins anxiously writing. Hands me the paper and leaves. This was his message:
The Prophet's message

INdiA? CheirZAWee?
GoD? ANgeL? Moe? ZiLL?!!

I’m left pondering what this meant to him.

People are beginning to arrive for the Course on Miracles. I ask about the missing table. A woman wants to talk about mice. They freak me out too. Ever since the condo next door brought in an exterminator, they’e been giving us a hard time. She suggests peppermint oil and offers to bring some in. I’ll try anything.

A young couple has come in to plan a wedding. Italian and Noewegian by background. Catholic with one Lutheran parent. RL looks in, nods his head.

He’s headed to the Gate. I accompany him before going  to  meet my friend Elise at 84th Street to see Life of Pi. Afterwards, we stop at the church. The doors are still open. Up to me to lock them up for the night. Then out down the steps. 

And it's  colder still.

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