Avian adventure

I have a bird tormenting me at work and my sister only wants to know what kind of bird it was.

I don’t know.  It was brown, it was non-descript and it was either eluding me or coming at me.  That’s what kind of bird it.  It avoided the window for the longest time.

So here’s what happened.  First we get a call at the office that there is an animal in the wall of one of the rooms at actor house.  Now I have to tell you that actor house is old, very old.  We call it shabby chic, but I think that’s being very generous.

So with a little saw in hand, I grab and apprentice and meet a colleague at the house.  I look like I know what I’m doing, but for all who know me, it’s a ruse. We climb to the 4^th floor of a house with no central air conditioning and enter the room.  My colleague MB is already there and loaded for bear, she just needed reinforcement and some good tools.  Despite the alleged sighting of a “paw,” we realize that it is a bird that is squatting in the wall.  I close all the doors and open the window while MB starts hacking at the wall.  Luckily, there a closet right there, so at least we have some cover.   After a few false alarms, the bird flies out of the wall, circles a few times and heads out the window.  We’re all feeling pretty good, right about then.  The actor had begged us not to hurt whatever it was and we had achieved that goal and didn’t even have to lie about it – which of course we were prepared to do if necessary.

Sure, we knew we needed to patch the hole wherever these things were getting in, but we thought we were nearly done. Not so fast avian hunter.

Later that night, about 11:30 pm to be exact, I get a phone call.  (Beth skip the time parts for Bub) I have  come to really hate these late night phone calls.  It is a colleague from work and he is either drunk or asleep.  I think he was sound asleep when he got the call.  The bird is back.

When the actor got back to her room after the performance that night, she found that a bird had gotten into her room (for who knows how long) and had shit all over the room.  I would come to find out later that this was more than just a slight exaggeration.  But I digress.

Before I could even get out of my apartment, I got texts from two more people and a phone call from a third.  They were calling out the cavalry, or me. Tag, I was it.

And off I go in what is now becoming an oddly familiar late night ritual. When I get to the house I find the bird has moved rooms into a different actor’s room.  There are now three actors and a bird all equally agitated.

Alright, I say, first let’s close all the doors and open the window.  Why, let it go out into the hall, it can’t go anywhere from there.  Uh, right,  that’s sort of the problem, it can’t go anywhere from there.  I would actually like it to go somewhere, like out.  Oh, okay. One actor has a sheet so as to keep it from going in her closet, the first actor with the original bird incident is explaining how she feels she knows the bird   now, and the third is well, just adding commentary.  Me? I’m armed with the screen to help deflect it out the window.

All of a sudden the first actor asks me if we had really gotten the bird out the first time.  Did I actually see it go out the window?  Are you kidding me? Do you really think we would leave a bird in your room and not tell you and let myself get called out in the night to fix it.  Uh, yes, I said, I saw it fly out the window.  Original actor tells me she is so empathetic she was just sure it would die in the wall.

We spend the next half hour or so chasing the bird around the room and jumping back as it flies at us.  It  is the night before opening, we’re all tired and there are a couple of moment.  At one point, as politely as I can, I tell that them I welcome all suggestions.  I am no expert in bird removal, that they hadn’t taught me that in theatre school.  That actually got an immediate apology from the snippiest one.

Original actor tells me she is going to just grab the bird with her hands, remember, she feels like she knows it.  In my head I’m thinking, go for it lady.  You grab that bird with your hands, just don’t get bitten or I’ll never get to sleep tonight. That’s me.  Tender.

, we capture the bird under a laundry basket, slide the screen under the bottom and take it outside, 4 flights down.  Whatever. Do with it whatever you will as long as it is outside.  I shut the window and follow them down. Hmmm, what’s taking so long outside?  I poke my head out and see two of them wandering around after the bird.  Oy.  Come on in, I say, let me get you set up in a new room and then you can come out and check on the bird. Translation, I would really like to go home, if you don’t mind!!!

Now actor 3 is wanting to look at the new room.  “I might want to move into this one.”  Actor 1 is along for the ride, “I just want to see the room.”  Original actor isn’t sure but says she’ll sleep there.  We’re having social hour and who-has-a-better-room in the middle of the night.  I apologize profusely AGAIN and head on home.

The next day, I find out that the original actor didn’t even sleep in the room.  Surroundings too unfamiliar.  And I need my room professionally cleaned by Sunday, my husband is coming.

The rest is only more tug and pull, give and take.  You’re not doing enough, the patch isn’t good enough, the room isn’t clean enough, the new room isn’t good enough, but the old room sucks.  I won’t bore you with the details other than to say problems at actor house almost make a midnight fire alarm look good.

You're selected.

I decided I needed a mentor. I set my sights on a guy in my office whose name is Ed.  He is a director, fully of creativity, soft spoken but ridiculously knowledgeable about all sorts of things.  He is a veritable font of information.  One day we were talking about scabies, don’t ask!!!  He wandered by and happened on the conversation.  Didn’t pirates get scabies, I asked him?  Sure, but you might be thinking of scurvy.  Who knows that?  Who says that?  Yep.  He should go on Jeopardy.  And that’s just one silly example.  I forgot.  He is a dramaturg, they know everything.  We have had amazing conversations about welfare reform, poverty levels and their impact on communities, feminism, politics,  and mutual friends in the theatre community around the country.  He’s a real mensch.

So one day I approach him and say Hey, Ed, I’ve decided I need a mentor and you’ve been selected.  He smiled and said he would be honored.  I knew I picked well.  We’ve managed to have lunch together twice.  Today was our second outing.  Squeezing in amongst the many, many meetings we have at the theatre and the myriad of subcontractors all active (and needing me) at the new building as we hurtle towards finishing this project, we managed to sneak out for a sandwich.

After ordering, I offered up my money, but he said no.  I told him that wasn’t necessary, but he said, I thought that’s what mentors do.  Sigh.  I picked well, and I’m not talking about buying my lunch.

We had a great lunch and even better conversation.  He was so complimentary to me, I was really touched.  Sometimes, as they say it is hard to see the forest for the trees.  When you are given the opportunity to hear someone else’s simple assessment of you, and it is utterly supportive, well, it is just great.  GREAT.  It helps to fill up a void that is all too often filled by colleagues’ or supervisors’ negativity and inadvertent jabs.  Most important of anything, he validated so many of my feelings and reminded me of all that is good.  Sometimes you just need a nudge, or push or flat out ambush to move in the right direction.  It is there for you, just that pesky forest/tree problem again.

Later, when checking email, I found an email from a blog I like.  It is called zen habits.  The link is here. Check it out.  It is useful and uncannily timely to my life.  Anyway, the post was called The Obstacle is the Path.  In a nutshell, it says, when there is an obstacle in your path you can fight, resist, run or you can dive in, explore it, work with it and turn that obstacle into the path to moving forward.

I know, I know.  It sounds totally dorky and new agey.  It also sounds way easier said than done.  But take a minute, there’s something there.  What’s funny is that this kind of advice is all around us all the time.  But when we’re ready, when I’m ready, that’s when I can see it or hear it. Or be ready for it.

Sometimes it just feels like the universe is tapping me on the shoulder.  Yoohoo.  You can do this.  When I’m not listening, it taps a little harder.  Sometime it has to bonk me on the head.  This time, with the help of my new mentor, I’m listening.  At least I’m going to try.

Wish me luck.  I’ll keep you posted.

Taking the tour you didn't know you were leading

Wow.  I have to get better about this blogging thing.  It’s been forever since I’ve posted something.

Here’s what I know.  If you take someone on a tour – be it your city or a building – you will find things you like even if you hadn’t realized it.  Someone told me this in Miami and it was true.  I would take visitors around and hear myself pointing things out, noting other things, and sure enough, there were things I really liked.

While I know I like Philadelphia, the same thing happened here last weekend.  My friend Tara came to visit from Miami.  Prior to her visit, I had a sort of odd feeling.  Tara didn’t belong here in my city of family, bricks, colonial history and more.  Tara was a palm tree and beach friend.  Tara was a Coral Gables and Coconut Grove kind of friend. But there she was at the Philadelphia airport and I knew immediately it was going to be a great weekend.

Bricks, I told her.  Bricks are the number one biggest difference between Philadelphia and Miami. I think by the end of the weekend she agreed.  Philadelphia is so sturdy and strong.  Buildings everywhere are made of bricks and stone.  Seeing Philadelphia through Tara’s eyes made me see things anew.  She marveled at City Hall and at the Art Museum. She said the city looked European.

We did a few of the touristy things.  We drove by the liberty bell so she could see it and we wandered along Elfreth’s Alley, the oldest street in the country, pondering the For Sale sign and wondering if we would even want to live there.

We had a fabulous brunch at a little neighborhood cafe, sitting outside under a canopy.  The cool part was, to get to the back, you walk through the little covered alley between the buildings.  Alleys between buildings, boot scrapers by doors, these were all new and fun.  We wandered the Italian Market, visited the original DiBruno’s cheese shop and walked all the all the way down Passyunk Avenue through a new upcoming neighborhood called Passyunk Square.  We even found an open house to pop into and take a look.  Along the way we found a statue paying tribute to South Philly’s rich heritage of Italian boxers.

Having walked so far and truly tired ourselves out, we stopped at a tiny little bakery and bought three delectable treats to take to my mom’s for a little visit.

Fortified by truly delicious sweets we hit a craft show in one of my favorite spots, Rittenhouse Square.  A beautiful park in the city and one of William Penn’s (Philadelphia’s founder) original four squares of the city.

Tired yet?  We were but no rest when you only have a weekend to play. After a quick dinner we headed off to a tiny theatre also in South Philly.  The play was North of the Boulevard by Philadelphia author Bruce Graham.

By this time I was feeling the pressure.  Tara and I used to volunteer usher together in Miami and I had often complained of the state of theatre.  Come up north with me, I would say, and we can see some good theatre.  So now I had to deliver.  I had checked this out with folks, gotten different good recommendations, but I was still feeling it.  I had never actually seen anything at this theatre.  What if it was crap?  What if I was full of crap?  Soon I could stop worrying.  The play was great.  The lead was an actor who had been in a show at the Arden and had had been great in that so I figured was pretty safe.  When intermission came, I tentatively turned to Tara and asked, “So?”  “It’s great,” she said, “especially the lead.”  Yeah!

Sunday we were off and running again. First stop was a farmer’s market at Head House Square.  This block, referring to the houses on either side and the open air canopy down the middle, was built in 1775.  We wandered along, tasted a few things and then headed to the Delaware River to continue our walk.

Finally, we perched along a small fountain do our most favorite thing, people watching. Next, we headed out to the where I grew up, Mt Airy.  We drove around looking at beautiful spring scenery and ever more beautiful houses.  Oh look, another open house.  Why not?  Then we headed to the Art Museum for some, wait for it, art, and another beautiful vista.  But wait, there’s more. 

We rounded out a most excellent weekend with Mother’s Day lunch with my family.

It was a great weekend.  It was a great fresh view of Philadelphia and it was great to have my Miami friend here to share it with.  We certainly saw a lot of Philadelphia.  It wasn’t the tour book tour, but who wants that.  It was the Hannah tour, pure and simple.  The cool thing is we both had fun and learned a ton about where I live.

So come visit.  Come see what there is to see and we’ll find it together.

Oh and thank you Tara, for taking all the pictures.  I had my camera with me the whole time and never snapped one.  Oops.