Well, maybe two and a half

12/5

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….

12/7

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.