Packed

This past weekend was so chock full of activities that by the end I needed a vacation from all the fun. Friday night we went to see a new play, Grace and Glorie, at the Colony Theatre. If you have the time, you really should catch Beth Grant in this show. She's an extraordinary actress and had several moments of genius. One of the best women I've ever seen on stage. And she was very gracious after the show.

On Saturday, thanks to a Groupon from Rita, we took a tour of the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. Awesome. The tour guide is a quirky gal who was raised by civil war reenactors, which birthed in her a love of history and, eventually, a love of old movies. There are a lot of silent film stars buried in this cemetery, along with Douglas Fairbanks, Rudy Valentino, John Huston (people leave bottles of his favorite whiskey on his grave,) Vampira, and my favorite (because I was am a HUGE Little Rascals fan), Carl "Alfalfa" Switzer.

No, the dog on his grave is not Petey. It's a hunting dog. He borrowed a hunting dog dog from a friend, the dog got lost, Switzer paid $50 to the guy who found the dog, then stumbled drunkenly over to his friend's house one night claiming that the guy owed him the $50 he paid to get his dog back. The friend pulled out a pistol and shot him. There are several versions of the scuffle that preceeded the murder. Crazy.

That night we went to a street party on the Colorado Street Bridge in Pasadena, where we had delicious food (excellent kettle corn!), listened to mediocre bands, saw an abysmal dance school perform, and watched a few people get drunk. It was good people watching, we ran into at least four people we knew, and we had a great time. I always have wanted to walk on that bridge! It became known as Suicide Bridge during the Depresison because 95 people jumped to their deaths.

Sunday we saw The Kids Are All Right at ArcLight. Mark Ruffalo was most excellent.

The last week has been full of surprises, particularly surprise phone calls. Several old friends got in touch and my oldest brother called to tell me he saved all of the photo cards I ever made on his birthdays and that he put them all in a frame and hung it in his bedroom. I was touched. We've never been close and phone calls are rare, but this kind of phone call never happens. All sorts of healing going on, I tell you. And a call came the other night that I can't share right now, but it was completely and totally unexpected. Marianne started running around the condo like a chicken in a barnyard when I told her. The neatest thing is that I've finally reached a point where I can sit back and say "Well...I wonder what's going to happen next?" Hold on to your will loosely. It makes the ride a lot easier.....