January 22nd - what does it mean to you?

Today is January 22nd, 2013.  January 22nd.  It is a date that twigs for so many of us.  Sure it represents birthdays, work events, social outings... but for me, January 22nd is the anniversary of Roe v. Wade.  It always will be.  I feel a bit like a slacker in that I have protested anything in a while.  I spent to many years standing in front of the U.S. Supreme Court representing.  Our NOW chapter, Capital City NOW had a standing demo on January 22nd.  Sometimes it was bone chilling cold. Sometimes it was decently comfortable. It was always eventful.  We learned how to keep candles lit in a gale wind, we learned how to work with and keep happy the very special Supreme Court police, we learned how to keep moving so as not to incommode - or block the sidewalk - which would be illegal.  I didn't realize until I left DC how very privileged I was to protest at the Supreme Court each year.

There are so many memories and stories from those demonstrations.   I loved that event.  There we were, sometimes outnumbered many times over, standing firm for what we believed in.  Literally.  There are plenty of time when the anti abortion demonstrators, while shouting love, were literally threatening and intimidating to push us back and away from the site.  Always trying to divert your attention from the really hard issues of a woman's decision to terminate a pregnancy, protesters were in your face showing gruesome photos, they were demanding answers to questions like, "aren't you glad your mother didn't abort you?"  There were large men pushing and shoving into groups of women standing their ground singing or chanting... doing everything in our power to remain peaceful yet strong.

There were times when I was physically scared.  There were times when I was too busy as an organizer to know I should have been scared.  But more than anything, there was a camaraderie and a strength of purpose.  We, this band of women and men, were standing at the foot of the highest court in the land to demand our most basic rights to bodily integrity. We were there to protect rights that have been and continue to be methodically and bureaucratically eroded over the forty years since Roe was passed.  We were there.  We were taking a stand.

I made some of my best friends in the world during those years.  I literally depended on those women to have my back. Sometimes we were a bit too ambitious.  I remember once when we decided that it would be dramatic to set the Webster decision on fire as a symbolic act.  Uh, not a good idea. Who knew it was against the law to have open flame on the Supreme Court steps?  I remember struggling to come up with new chants and finding people to be willing and able to lead them.  "Not so fast, slow it down, you've got people literally out of breath and running in a circle!!"  I remember getting a megaphone for a Hanukkah or birthday present one year -- how telling is that?  Mostly though, I remember talking to young women who had been bused into DC to participate in the March for Life, who surreptitiously would come over to us and talk.  They wanted information.  They wanted knowledge and they wanted it so they could make their own decisions, not have fear and threats force someone else's decisions on them.

I can remember one event, not at the Supreme court, when we decided to add a little humor to our protest.  We were distributing condoms at a table clearly identified as Lesbians for Life.  No one got it.  They they all thought we were thespians.  That will always be one of my favorites.

But I digress.  I did enjoy my friends and our adventures.  What I enjoyed more than anything was my actions.  I knew that I had done what I could.  That I didn't just sit and bitch, I took action.  Whether I really made a difference is anyone's guess but I tried.  I lived the convictions of my beliefs.

Today, I don't spend nearly as much time protesting or demonstrating.  I'm far more likely to write a check to my favorite cause then to hit the streets.  And that's okay too. Times change, life changes.  But what I do know is that my beliefs haven't changed.  In fact, as I get older, I think my beliefs just get stronger.  I don't need to understand why as much, I just need to understand.  Now as I watch friends with babies and grand babies, I do understand just how precious life is.  Everyone's life. If my body is not my own, what kind of life do I have?  It is really as simple as that.  It is my body, my life, my right to decide.

Catchy, huh?  For those who don't know how tenuous these rights are, we need to teach.  For those of us who are tired of walking in circles in the cold, it is up us to find other ways to participate and stay in the conversation.

Commemorate this day for the auspicious day that it is. It is a day of politics, but it is also a day of connection, of ties that bind. They say all politics is personal.  It is true in my case.  Thank you to all of the friends who stood with me, who sang and chanted with me and who joined me afterwards for the annual pilgrimage to Mr. Henry's which became every bit a part of the Roe candlelight vigil as the demo.  Thank you.  Thank  you for protecting my rights.  It matters.

The theme is art.

Tonight is the final dress rehearsal for our new show Endgame, by Samuel Beckett.  I am so curious to see it.  I hear it’s not linear.  I have to confess that I have never read any Beckett, which came as a surprise to the show’s director.  Not my own personal lapse but that Beckett in general was not on the list of the average educated adult.  Uh , no.  We have had more discussion on what the show is not, than what it is.  The setting is post apocalyptic.  This photo was taken a week ago when they just started building the set. It’s even cooler now.  

My favorite part, not in this picture, is a column with a dented air vent.  It looks so real. I guarantee folks will be complaining about air hitting them from the vent.  Guarantee it.  I love that this same stage was Freud’s office just weeks ago.

I was a little leery about the production until a conversation unfolded about how Tony Soprano, Dexter, Deadwood – these really dark humor pieces all stand on the shoulders of Beckett. Interesting. Okay, now I’m intrigued. I am hoping to see it Friday.  I will report back.

On a wholly different note, one of our theatre programs, bringing underserved kids to performances, has been selected as a recipient of proceeds from the Rittenhouse Flower Market. This is a ladies-who-lunch kind of organization that put on an event in May.  One of the components of the show is a poster contest.  A black and white poster is provided and anyone can enter their artistic interpretation of the original drawing.  Here is a copy of the poster. 

I’m going to see what I can do.  My visual art skills are a little lacking.  The brain is willing but the hands don’t always comply. I’ll see how it looks before I decide to a) show it to you or b) submit it.  What the heck, right?

a whirlwind...

New Year’s Day in Philadelphia is a tradition.  A drunk, feather and sequined tradition.  It is called the Mummer’s Parade.  With friends in town we packed ourselves off to the parade and got there early for a good spot.  Sadly, what I forgot from more than 35 years ago, is that early isn’t what you want.  What you want are the string bands in their full costumed regalia.  They look good and they sound good.  What you get early is drunk, drunk and drunk. They are called the comic brigades and they don’t give a hoot about the audiences of onlookers.  They are just wandering down Broad Street with a beer in one hand and a whacky costume bit in the other.  It was fun but so different from my long ago childhood memories.

Fast forward.  Last week was flat out crazy.  The week started with what should have been a simple office medical procedure which turned into a stressful day-long visit to the hospital and ended with four work days with the server down.  Nothing wrong healthwise, just bureaucracy gone awry.  Something seriously wrong technologically, but it turns out that there’s little that money and time can’t fix.

So of course technology comes under General Management. You had to know that was coming.  Hell, if there’s bad news at the theatre, it always comes under GM.

And in the name of everything happens at once, I had three tenants in the building next to our construction site all up in arms over a bizarre smell in their apartments at the same time as the crash.  The property manager in the building happily gave everyone my name and phone number and informed them that she was sure it was emanating from the construction site.  Thanks.

Of course, it wasn’t us and I told everyone who would listen.  I toured the property manager through the construction site and even her contractor.  After a few not so veiled threats—that would be her threatening me -- they located some open paint cans in an HVAC room of one of the apartments.  Hmmm. Funny thing, the call to tell me that officially took a lot longer than the calls and emails with the threats and accusations.  Is this a Philly thing or just a rude person thing?  Or dare I ask, are they the same?

Meanwhile, back at the crash site, the entire theatre was at a standstill.  We were able to peel off our ticket sales and keep them up and running, but no email in or out and no access to any of our shared files.  And we all use the shared file for storing data.  Oy.  Double oy.  This was bad.

It is this very kind of situation that makes you realize how utterly dependent on technology we have become.  Okay.  No email, so I’ll do this.  Nope.  Okay, I’ll do that.  Nope.  I literally had to remind some folks that they could still use the phone to talk to people. That was funny.

So when all else is lost, I cook.  I’m trying to stay away from baking for the moment, as the results are hard to resist.  So I made a curried carrot ginger soup.  Yum.  A pork loin, definite yum and for absolutely no good reason, I bought myself a slow cooker.  I’ve yet to use but I keep you posted.  All it took was an article on vegetarian and vegan slow cooker recipes and boom! I’m sold.  Literally.  Haven’t cooked a thing yet, but I’m ready.

I’ve also been knitting again.  It is a great way to keep my hands busy at night while I watch tv.  I made a scarf, didn’t like it and ripped it out.  I’m on my second one and I think I’ll keep it.  It is way more the doing than the final product, however, so you never know.  I need a good scarf so we’ll see… or maybe I’ll rip it and start over.  Anyone need a scarf?  I’m not good for much more.  Maybe a blanket. Nothing complicated or my lack of skill becomes too obvious.  I once made a hat for a friend undergoing chemo. It was pitiful.  Made with love, but sort of hilarious at best.  My artistic skills are clearly more in my head than in my hands. So sad. Don’t make me tell you about my attempt at a cut veggie turkey at Thanksgiving.

But all things come full circle.  Yesterday we managed to get the server back up and running.  Things are slowly starting to return to the new normal.  So I just had to laugh over not one but two separate emails today.  First, an email from an old patient (on my personal email) asking me to set him up with an appointment.  Uh, actually, I can’t help you with that any more.  Then, later in the afternoon came one that actually made me laugh out loud.   An email from Ford’s asking me if I could recollect a document and suggest any place to find it.   How flattering. Don’t they know I can’t remember what I had for breakfast yesterday? 

It’s all in a day.  Stay on your toes and you never know what will turn up in your inbox… that is if you have one.

So what’s going on in your world?