Saturday, December 14, 2013

Well, maybe two and a half


The Center Board has gathered. It’s the last night of Hannukah. Asya  has brought chocolate gelt and poppers (like mini-pinatas) and Dunkin’ Donuts version of sufganiot, ie, jelly donuts…We’re looking for where the needed bridge money is going to come from….and we put our team together to meet next week with Friends from the neighboring condos and coops…Ted, Asya, Mim, Katherine, John…they’ve been there since the beginning…like oil that doesn’t burn out….


Anna comes in for a visit. With new candles. She brings light too.

Not enough time to do everything. Go see Cara at Roosevelt Hospital. Then hustle downtown for Woodshed’s winter showing, a preview of things  to come. Installations. Videos. And a performance. Get nostalgiac seeing videos from the Tenant. And seeing  reviews I hadn’t seen before, like from the New Yorker. But wait, in this installation, what do I see? The carefully written in exquisite cursive handwriting records of the first year of West-Park’s existence. Well, all right, that’s got to come back. That’s not hip art, it’s our history. The old school metal sign board letters, well, they can keep.

Wayne brought the gospel
Make it back for Open Mic. A new singer, Wayne, blows us away with his original gospel. When it’s my turn, I’m determined to follow Joe’s admonition to have 3 songs. I finish with the Lennon-Mc Cartney When I’m 64…(slightly rewritten in honor of my birthday…)

When I'm Sixty Four

When I get older losing my hair
Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I'd been out till quarter to three…
I’m probably with RL…Joe….Pat…
Would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?

Oh….You're all older too
And if you say the word
I would stay with you

I could be handy, mending a fuse (shaking my head no way…)
When your lights have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride
Doing the garden, digging the weeds
Who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?

In the summer we can rent a cottage on Hampton Bay
And take the Jitney there
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Whitney, Ashley, Madison, Colin, Dylan…..
& even Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me your answer, fill in a form
Yours  for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
                                                                 Hey….I’m 64!

Later at the Gate, I asked Joe if I had three songs.
Well, maybe two and a half, he says.

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