Denise Dances: A Return to Perfect Health - Body, Mind & Spirit!

Friday, May 8, 2009

"Stay Tuned"

Hi! Happy Friday! No stories today. (My day off.) What's in store for next week: (1) Excerpts from two articles on The Big Screen / Writers (Circa 1980 decade) -- still dreamin'! (2) A Review of a "Show" (There's no business like show business!!) (3) Illustration to accompany Lynne's birthday card! (4) Definition of Atherosclerotic Cardiovascular Disease Vs. "Her Number Was Up" (When religion and science agree...) Happy Friday! Gotta go! (The neighbors are watching: "Veneer: Keep walking; no talking!" I got a rep to uphold.) Don't do anything I wouldn't do!!!!!! :) * * * Take care. Keep dancin', all of you. Denise

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Places I Lived in NYC 1987-90

1987 -90
(1) 308 West 51st Street: TIMES SQUARE
7th & 8th Avenues
May - June 1987
(3 Weeks)
East Ninth Street: THE EAST VILLAGE
(& First Avenue)
June - August 1987
200 East 94th Street: THE UPPER EAST SIDE/Spanish Harlem
(& Third Avenue)
Carnegie Park
(Sept. 1987 - May 1988)
Mercer Street: WEST VILLAGE
(about June - August 1988)
Belle Harbor, Queens:
Beach - Newport Avenue
(about Sept. - Oct. 1988)
Forest Hills, QUEENS
93-42 71st Drive
(off Metropolitan Avenue)
(Oct. / Nov. 1988 - Oct. 1990)
with a short stint at:
59th Street & Roosevelt Avenue
Final months: 1990


(Outside the Classroom, How to Write a Screenplay, The Learning Annex, Circa 87-90)
(1) "It's great! I like it!" (R.M., McGraw-Hill, Inc., NYC, on "Forgotten")
and, "You literary genius!" "You're neurotic! You're a writer!" and "I want to party with you." (1987 - 90)
(2) "There are some things about you that are funny and wierd." and "Did Muffy really write this?" (Olivia Longfellow, not her "real" name, on "Forgotten")
(3) "You remind me of Truman Capote. He used to hang around with the rich and famous and write about them. You remind me of him so much." (Sharon, from the office, 1987)
(4) "Write about s**!"" (BL, Arthur Murray, Niantic -- you know that went south!!)
(5) "It's great. We loved it. It needs a lot of work." (Doug, for Doug & Jessica, Arthur Murray, Niantic, read in FL, 2002)
(6) "Give me something to read." (Doug, Arthur Murray, Niantic, 2002, his note on a Christmas card)
(7) "It's from a very young mind." (B.C., T'ai Chi, Westerly, RI, 2002)
(8) "Good visuals of Manhattan." (Ock, T'ai Chi, 2002)

SG: atg: "REVIEWS"

"It's good!"
"The only thing I would like more of is visualizaton. What do their offices look like?"
"It read like a script. It had the director's directions. Which is very hard to do. It has everything a soap opera is superb. It has potential."
"I can't grasp it. What is she all about? How does she really feel about Corporate Life? She is scattered. The camera is running around, into other people's offices. What is the reason for writing this?
All I can do is ask,
"But is it clear?"
"OH, Yes ! It's very clear!"
"What is there to like about the girl? Why is she a main character? She's not an underdog or anything. No compassion: people are jerks."
"But this is a small sliver of the book. We don't know the whole story. We need more..."
"I work in an office and this is the way people feel. It's just like this. A lot of people can read it and feel that way."
"How does she feel about Corporate Life?"
"It doesn't make sense!"
"But it makes sense to somebody."
"She didn't even have a doctor. You get the sense that there is nothing for her in New York."


"What's the meeting about?"
"None of your business."
"It concerns me more than it concerns you," Mike said, hurt.
Debbie didn't know what the meeting was about either and did not care. They were always having meetings around here, and the less you knew, the better. People always wanted to know her business, blowing up stories when nothing at all was happening. {um.....History repeats itself????......) She would rather be the one being talked of, than the one doing the talking. Anything was better than being bored.
When she was given the article to zerox, the truth still did not register in her mind. It was an article in the Wall Street Journal, detailing budget cuts in the financial firm on Wall Street where she worked as a secretary.
McGrath {to you, Richard!!} & O'Connor has completed its reorganization which will result in the elimination of over 1,000 jobs in 1990. The writedown of 200 million to reduce costs will lower earnings for 1989, but will improve the outlook for 1990.
On her lunch hour, she passed bright clothing in window displays announcing Going Out of Business sales. Christmas was only two weeks away.
"Don't move back to Connecticut. You can't even get a job answering the phone." Her best friend told her on the phone that night. Military and defense plants were slowly closing down, putting a freeze on hiring which prevented more people from moving to Southern New England.
"Debbie, my apartments have been empty for two months," her mother told her. Her mother had nevre had any problems with renting her apartments immediately and could pick and choose her tenants carefully. She never asked her mother for cash, but life in New York City was hard. She did not even know anyone well enough to ask to borrow money.
"Keep your mouth shut. Be glad you have a job," her friend Michelle warned her.
"I'm so sick of answering the phone. Everyone is driving me crazy", she complained to Amanda on her lunch hour. "When are they going to promote me?"
She swore at the zerox machine which had stopped in the middle of sorting twenty thirty-page copies.
"Next time you have copies, I'm sending them down to Quick Copy," she shouted impatiently at Janet, the sales manager as her boss passed her desk.
"That's fine with me", Janet said kindly. She knew better than to ignite the fire of her secretary's temper.
Mike had been irritable all day. Was it something she said?
"Did you know Mrs. Bart, of office training has been laid off?" Marguerite said.
"Hello? That's horrible!" Debbie said. She thought of the dear old lady who had taught the two-week program for new secretaries on Wall Street. They laid her off?
That's right, she thought, remembering one morning in the cafeteria breakfast line. Patricia, who worked on the 17th floor where Debbie had been offered a job, had just gotten laid off.
"I'm taking it easy. I'll find something,but I'm not in a hurry", she said.
How could she be so nonchalant? If Debbie were ever laid off, what would she do? This was the center of her life. It was her world.
What would it be like, not seeing Mike or Amanda, or the others every weekday morning?
"No more car vouchers! What priviledge are they going to take away next?" Debbie said, sitting at her desk, which was strategically placed at the hub of the office, across from the VP's corner office, directly across from the Office Manager's stares, diagonal from her boss's door and close to the other sales representatives and managers. There were only four secretaries, one for each department.
"Benefits. Debbie. Not priviledges." Her boss corrected her. What was the difference, Debbie thought. Of course, she did not voice her opinion to her overly aggressive, attractive female boss.
"You will have to walk to the zerox room to pick up your mail", the office manager told her. "Alexander will not be delivering it to your desk anymore. They are cutting down on the mailmen." The office manager told her.
"I never dreamed I would get to be a mailman, too", Debbie said sweetly. "What next?! What are they going to take away from us next?!"
In the cafeteria, Debbie was full of ideas.
"Are we having a depression or what? Stores are having outrageous sales at Christmas time. All these layoffs, everywhere..."
When she first entered the doors of McGrath & O'Connor, she had never dreamed this would happen. It was such a great, well-known company, a household word. Could anything save it?
"The VP is hiring new people. I asked him why he doesn't put a freeze on hiring right now", Amanda said. "I think someone upstairs doesn't know what he's doing."
"If people weren't given so much credit, charging up a storm, the stores wouldn't be going out of business. Everyone owes thousands. No one wants to spend their money", Debbie said, thinking of her own Mastercard bill, which she had racked up before she received her raise. "And then, the waste. We waste so much paper. Look at the stationery and supplies we order. And then, we change our name, or phone number and throw everything away. It's such a waste", she said. She did not know if she were making sense or not.
"Everyone wants power for themselves", she said, in between mouthfuls of chicken, rice and mixed vegetables. "They do not care about the company."
"Did you sign up to attend the benefits meeting? It is imperative that you go", her boss said.
"Yeah, I think you should", the office manager said.
Chairs were set up in rows, facing a small podium. Almost every seat was filled. Two young secretaries sat together, gossiping about work and shopping. A group of young men were discussing sports. Two elderly men were discussing the effect the new benefits package would have on Medicare. Debbie sat with her boss, Janet, and two salesmen, close to the front row. On her yellow notepad, she doodled fanciful scenes, feeling far away from the place where she was. A woman stepped up to the podium.
"Welcome to the McGrath & O'Connor annual benefits meeting. This is quite an ambitious group we have here this morning. First, we will watch a short film and then we will be on hand to answer all your questions", she spoke professionally into the microphone.
Debbie watched the boring video with heavily lidded eyes.
"O.K., we are now ready for you to start asking questions", the woman announced.
Debbie's eyes were starting to glaze. She thought of the tall, handsome man in her office.
"Debbie? What did that man just say?" Her boss asked her.
"Oh...I don't know. I didn't hear him," she said. She looked at her boss and blinked, her mouth parted slightly, her gaze far away. She quickly tried to hide this from her boss.
"What is this? We have one month to choose from your list of doctors. This is like picking one out of a hat. It's like a dartboard", the irate bald man in the back said.
"Is this a tax write-off or something? We have only one month to make up our minds about the benefits package before 1989 is over?" a woman suggested.
"How do we pick a doctor?" the man demanded.
"Well, you can call them," the woman said.
"What credentials and criteria do the doctors on your list meet? How do we found out these credentials?" Her boss spoke.
"You can call their offices and talk to their staff, ask for recommendations", the woman replied.
"There are only two doctors within New York State who are on that list. What if I need a reliable gynecologist?" one woman complained.
"You've had all month to look at the list of doctors and decide. If you opened and read your benefits package which you received in the mail," the woman replied. {"Did ya get the memo?"} {sic}
Debbie waited until her boss got up to leave. Janet and the salesmen had already left for lunch.
"Want to have lunch?" Debbie offered.
"No, I have to meet with my boss", her boss said nervously. "How do you which criteria these doctors meet? She didn't answer my question very well."
"I know. She expects us to call them and ask their secretaries?" Debbie said.
"If you like the doctor you have, you should keep him. It's hard to find someone you can trust", Debbie said to Mike.
He sat at the typewriter.
"Yeah, I love my doctor. Why pay $300 a year for their insurance? I don't go that much. I can do without it."
"You really should stay with him, because it's hard to find a doctor you like", Debbie advised him, although she did not have a doctor herself since she had moved to New York.


"So, what's up?" came the booming voice.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his hands as they tapped her desk, his shirt as he approached her. She had refused to look at him as she heard his heavy, reassuring footsteps rounding the corner by her desk.
Now she looked up to face him in surprise. Her lips parted, her blue eyes widened.
"Not much," she said shyly. She smiled.
"Not much?" His face lit up slightly, causing him to look more boyish than ever. The sandy blond hair, the suit, she took it all in as he stood there, facing her. She could not help but like the confident way he had just stepped right up to her desk, disregarding any possibility of rejection. How she wanted to snub him, to give him an ice cold answer, but she couldn't do it! He certainly was cute, outfitted with his blazer, which of course, did not make him look any older. Why, he looked younger with the jacket on!
What was there about a simple blazer that transformed the men who owned them? She had noticed it with all the young men in the office. They roamed the building in shirt and tie, but when it was time for a meeting across town or if they were leaving the office for lunch, the gray blazers were donned, zap. It glorified the man who wore it. The cute became sophisticated, the average became handsome, the young became experienced. She did not know quite what to make of it.
She also did not know what to make of this thing with her boss. Was something really going on? Was it just inside the office? Was it harmless flirting or a mad passionate affair, illicit liasons sneaked in between the signing of contracts, sumptuous lunches for two, expertly timed so that Scott always left fifteen minutes earlier than she, and returned a deliberate fifteen minutes after her boss returned. Was it a long-time crush that Scott had had ever since that November day her boss was hired, three years ago? Was it only harmless flirting after all, or was Scott really as "flabbergasted" and "befuddled" as he said?
She had looked forward to his return from Europe that Monday morning. Whether an especially good weekend spent camping in Connecticut {Hammonasset State Beach, Madison, CT} {sic} {hey -- Shutterbug!}; with her old college roomates, or the sultry summer sun, had lightened her mood, as well as her hair, she was eager to see him again. Her hands were shaking. As she stood at the fax machine, dialing the number and inserting the paper, her legs wobbled. She waited for the beep. He was chatting with someone in the office behind her, but she would not look back.
She turned to ask the office manager for a number she needed. She looked up and there was Scott, towering over her.
He gazed down upon her with the longing of someone who has been away for a long time and has spent time thinking about someone he has not seen in a long time. He dreamily took in her suntanned face and radiant blue eyes; her hair bright from the summer sun since he had left.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hiiii, Debbieeee", he rolled her name slowly over his tongue, as if in the same way he would have liked his hands to slide over her body, as she drifted past him.
Summer 88
Aw, come on. Know you guys have been waiting for this.

"Happy Birthday!"

Hi Ho !
Off we go !
Let's sail the stormy seas
In times such as these.
Happy Belated Birthday !
Do not be mad at me, please !
A friend's birthday should not be forgotten
Hope you'll forgive me
And not think I'm too rotten !
Happy Birthday
Off we go
Let's sail the high seas
of Boston, in times such as these.
Denise, '91
To You, Lynne!
(18 years later!)
Illustration from the card to be posted shortly!

"More & More"

When religion and science agree
That's where Truth is
I feel it in me.
When the wise man and the fool see eye to eye
That's where Truth lies
That's where I want to be.
When the pain of the world
Can be seen
Through the eye of God
Life is no longer hard.
When the philosopher and the musician sing
in harmony
That's where the truth's got to be.
I feel it in me.
I feel it in me.
La-la-la la, la la la, la la, la-lah-lah, la-la!
La-la-lah-lah, la-la, la-la-la, la-lah!
La-la-la, la-la, lah lah! La-la-la, la-la!
Lah-la-la-lah, la-lah, lah-laj-la, la-la!
When the streets of New York
can be seen
as the Garden of Eden
Then we can start feeding,
feeding the poor
and open Love's door.
I want to give more and more and more
(Flute Solo)
When the streets of New York
can be seen
as the Garden of Eden
Then we can start feeding the poor
and open Love's door
I want to give more and more and more
I want to give more and more and more
Let me give more and more and more
Teach me to give more and more and more
I want to give more and more and more
Let me give more and more and more
I want to give more and more and more.....
Journey Inwards
Original Songs
by Andy Gordon
Recorded at Braztech Recording
Finksburg, MD
From March 10 - March 21, 1989
"Thanks to my brother Paul for patiently waiting 15 years for me to record his favorites of my songs."
Andy Gordon
PO Box 715
Cruz Bay, Virgin Islands 00831
"Half the proceeds will be donated to alleviate suffering. If you choose to copy this tape, please donate at least $5.00 to charity."
Buddha: Born a prince, Gautama Sakmoni renounced royal pleasures to seek the path of detachment, compassion and wisdom.
God: God is real and deep inside a way, all the Teachers are God, but so are all the Students.
Jesus: The Nazarene who became the Christ was all forgiving, Love in form. He taught us to feed the poor, heal the sick, and spread your love clear around the world.
Lao Tzu: Ancient philosopher and poetic author of "Tao Te Ching," training the mind to start relating to the rhythm of the Earth and to flow with nature unobstructing.
Maharaji: the Guru. Neem Karoli Baba, "Lover of All." "Love and serve Humanity," and always, and in all things, "remember God."
Ramana Maharishi: the reclusive Sage whose teachings were brought here by the philosopher Paul Brunton. Through his powerful inquiry, "Who Am I?," Ramana taught us to look for the source of thought and action.
Ram Dass: whose book "Be Here Now" became a Bible for this age. The truth he told was the freedom from the past and the future. May the listener be fortunate to have the guidance of Teachers.
- Jonathan Back -
Brought to you by:
Denise Hickey
Brookline, MA
Oct. 1990 - Oct. 1991
Cashier, "The Ball & Chain"
Hi, Pam (Madam)!

Wednesday, May 6, 2009


("Are you dating anyone?")
"We will be getting you a Laser printer. Once you have it, all you will have to do is press a button and it will print everyone's letters. They can type their letters from their own computers."
Debbie did not hear what her boss was saying. Her mind raced in a million different directions, full of letters and proposals to type, and office supplies to order for the entire staff.
"Yeah, it should make things a lot easier," she agreed. "The WANG makes much more work for me."
"Yes, it seems like that."
They stepped into the elevator.
"We'll still keep the WANG."
"Well, that's good. I could use it for some things."
Talk turned to the weather.
"I don't usually go out in winter because I hate getting all bundled up."
"I love the cold. I'm a New Englander."
"It's not so much the cold I mind. I just hate getting bundled up."
They mulled over the Japanese menu.
"Do you like Gyoza?"
"I don't know what that is."
"If you remember, I was quite heavy at one time. When I decided to go to Japanese restaurants for lunch, I lost weight."
"I don't know what I want. Let's see." Debbie scanned the menu. "I didn't like Japanese food at first but my old roomates only went to Japanese restaurants."
"Do you mean the ones...?" Vera paused.
"The ones in Manhattan."
"Do you still keep in touch with them?"
"They don't call me. They're in their own world, in Manhattan. They like the really expensive clubs."
The subject of money was being given a chance to surface.
"Do you go out in the city much?"
"Not at all, lately. I can't afford it. Their parents support them."
"I never fell into that situation of having everything paid for, having a disposable income," Crystal said wistfully.
"It's hard to make it in this city."
"So, what's going on?" Crystal breached the reason for this sudden meeting.
"Well, alright, I guess you can read my mind. i do have an ulterior motive but I don't want you to think that's the only reason I asked you to lunch. I would like to start going out to lunch once a week so we can talk about things."
"Is a 6 % raise average for this company?" Debbie finally asked.
"Actually it's usually 4 or 5 %. Yours was a little bit higher."
"Oh, I got a higher than average raise. It's just that it's hard to make it in this city."
"Our company is going through a lot of changes and we plan to give promotions where they are deserved. We plan on raising the grade level of your job which would be a promotion and then we can pay you more. The 6 % was your quarterly raise. I can't tell you when this will happen. The promotions will start with the VP and move down from there. There will be a lot of changes made and I really think you should stay with the company."
They both well knew that she planned to stay with the company.
"Is there something else? I have a feeling you're keeping something from me."
"No, that's about it."
"Are you dating anyone?" Her boss launched the question.
"No," Debbie smiled, as her boss said in afterthought, "I realize that's a personal question."
"I was in a five-year relationship and when it ended last December, I dated a lot. I went out three, four nights a week."
"With a lot of different people?" Debbie asked, her usual air of innocence enveloping her.
Her boss looked her in the eye. She pursed her lips in mock disgust. You well know the answer to that, the gesture seemed to say.
"When the relationship ended, I would sometimes find that I would just have to close my office door and cry."
"Ohhhhh, that's terrible," Debbie gasped. She felt her eyes burn with tears.
Crystal went on to speak of friends who were there for her. But her words were lost on Debbie who did not hear what she was saying. Crystal spoke of her father. They did not see eye to eye. Her two sisters were his favorites. Debbie talked of her three sisters, of always having to share the attention with them, or more often, compete with them.
"I've been alone all my life," Debbie admitted for the first time to anyone ever.
"My relationships have all been short. Real short." She smiled slyly. "I don't like the dating scene." She suddenly turned sober.
"Don't do anything you don't want to do. Say, 'I'm uncomfortable with that.'"
You don't understand, Debbie wanted to say. But what was it that her boss did not understand?
Words at a loss, she sadly shrugged instead.
"Well, you're older now. You know what you want."
"I'm not afraid to live in a burned down building - I lived in a burned down building, you know - but I;m afraid to date anyone seriously." She shook her head, as if to ask, what do I do?
What if...?
"Be tough, be tough," Crystal counseled her.
"It's nice having the attention of all the guys for once."
"Well, that's good," Crystal said sincerely.
"Aren't guys good to have as friends?"
"Yes, I like to think of them as big brothers."
"Well, it was nice having lunch with you," she smiled at her boss, her friend.
"We'll have to do it again." And she walked out of the sunny restaurant. She hurried back to the phones, while Crystal paid the bill which would eventually be put on her expense account.

Monday, May 4, 2009

"Russian Fire & Ice!"

(Music Director Candidate)
Saturday, May 2, 2009 8 p.m.
The Garde Arts Center
State Street
New London, CT
The first piece, the "Polovtsian Dances," Selections from the opera, Prince Igor, by Alexander Borodin (1833-1887), a Russian composer who made a living as a chemist and born in St. Petersburg.
Gliding Dance of the Maidens, adapted for the song, "Stranger in Paradise," and incorporated into the 1953 musical, Kismet. During the pre-concert lecture, Sarah Hicks joked that "it is the only 19th century opera to win a Tony!" :)
As an opener to this concert, I found the piece to be
Mischievous....merry...spring-like...Anticipation...Bunnies in the woods!...Spring -- Fresh!
Clean, Airy, Thunderous
and ending in Russian zig zags, signalling -- SHIPWRECK!
I found the efforts of guest conductor Sarah Hatsuko Hicks -- the final candidate in a year-long search for a new creative director -- "Countdown to the One" to be "Mighty Mouse!"
light-hearted, merry, the music scurrying;
But then -- robotic, mechanical; toys
Frantic -- Ending in "whimsical frenzy;" uptempo which I enjoyed more ---
I found the second piece, "Concerto No. 3 in C for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 26," by Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953).
Pianist Andrius Zlabys has performed worldwide with the New York Philharmonic, Boston Symphony, and Cleveland Orchestra and in recitals in Japan, China, Europe, and South America.
He began piano studies at age six in his native Lithuania, and was nominated for a Grammy award in 2003, for Enesco's Piano Quintet for Nonesuch.
From ECSO Program Notes:
The introductory Andante of the Third Concerto leads to an Allegro which has a burlesque-like quality, featuring frequent percussive and impetuous passage work for the piano.
The another brilliant excursion, with even greater rhythmic accentuation, requiring the utmost virtuosity by the soloist, especially in passages near the close, where the pianist is required to play rapid scales with each finger striking two adjacent keys simultaneously.
On Sarah Hatsuko Hicks -- guest conductor --
"Youthful, effervescent -- speaks fast but with good intention -- moves with the music -- girlish -- a featherweight -- but with intention. Long, shiny brown hair. Lively. Youthful. Definitive. The music almost knocks her over, but still she stands. Bends, doesn't break."
White Crane on the Bamboo Branch.
Pre concert, the bartenders in both the upstairs and downstairs lobbies take "drink RSVP's." Pay in cash; they will have your requested drink ready atop the bar during intermission with a name tag and red napkin, chilled.
Doesn't take much to excite me; this small perk!
And so, while sipping a glass of Pinot Grigio at Intermission, I stood above the crowd, at the top of the stairs leading from the balcony. And tried, without success, not to smirk.
do any in this hearty crowd enjoy the concerts? or do they just go to "be seen?" and isn't that what it's all about?
The fashion show always leaves much to be admired. For the gentlemen, a nice suit: Blazer, Dress Shirt or Oxford, and Trousers in neutral colors such as browns, grays or navy will do.
For the ladies, you can't miss with a nice pair of functional black dress pants, cut of the moment or to flatter individual body type. Add interest to the blouse -- creative stitching, embroidery, colorful brocade, or silver and gold. The little black dress is always appropos.
What I wore: Black, airy blouse with white dots, bow at the bodice, cap sleeves (J.C. Penney, Spring Collection 2008, $14.99). Black blazer, fitted, wool (Giorgio Sant Angelo, but not at the designer price, Marshall's or T.J. Maxx). Black dress pants (J.C. Penney, about $30.). And my black patent leather dance shoes, with snap on straps, Cuban heel, for comfort. (About $80.) And my new Scunci scarfband in dark brown and tortoiseshell, woven into my new brownish blond strands and billowing out in back ($5.49 --C.V.S. -- toldja! doesn't take much to excite me!)
For bling: black and silver hoop earrings (streets of NYC, vintage 80s! $5).
Also, silver starfish necklace from Mexico, a birthday gift from my sister Kelley.
Combined with silver and goldtone single pearl necklace;
and accompanied by the "Miraculous Medal" on a silver chain, said to be a blessing to all who wear it. Replica created on June 14, 1990 (Paula's birthday). Given by Mary Immaculate to Sister Catherine Laboure, Daughter of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, Nov. 27, 1830.
And finally --
Meet the New Music Director!
Opening Concert:
Saturday, September 26, 2009
8 p.m.
Tix $28, $35, $$45, $52
After Intermission:
"Eugen Onegin, Op. 24 - Polonaise and Waltzes" by Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893) - composer of the infamous Nutcracker Ballet.
The piece began as an "announcement," heralding Spring by an airy Sprite. Excitement! Anticipation. Bold, brave, energetic, uplifting!
Dynamic, a triumph. Ebullient! A bouncing back!
Reminiscent of "Waltz of the Flowers" from the Nutcracker Suite.
Next, "Suite from the Firebird 1919 Version" by Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971)....mysterious, a sense of mischief, with Spring-like freshness.
...combined with 1930s drama and suspense...
an unfolding, Blossoming!
Daffodils, delight, scampering!
Then, familiar undertones -- spoke of home, the back yard, front lawn in Spring. A coming home. Everything is going to be all right.
And then -- gotcha!
Again! Gotcha!
Pounding rain
Thunder and lightening give way to certain victory!
Again -- mystery, sunset, a blossoming!
There is a new talent on the horizon. And she shall prevail.
Judging from audience response, New London loves Sarah Hatsuko Hicks.
If she is voted the new Music Director, welcome her. She is a breath of fresh air!
And God knows! New London needs a breath of fresh air.
Indeed, if I had more money, I...would...BRIBE...them...Patron? ($200-$299)....Notable? ($100-199)...Supporter? (under $100).

ROMANTIC FICTION: "Collision Course"

Romantic Fiction Collision Course By Ruby Perry "This is your fourth accident in two months, Mr. Jackson, and the worst one yet," the insurance claims adjustor stated on the phone that afternoon. Her soft voice carried a hint of reproach. "I understand, Ms. Ainsley," Brad Jackson said. "I'm not normally so reckless. In fact, before this, I've never had an accident in my life." "I think you should know that we're considering dropping your policy," the woman said apologetically. He experienced a moment of panic but calmed himself. "I understand, but may I drop by your office and explain?" It was true, Brad mused as he drove to the insurance office the next day on his lunch break. In his 20 years behind the wheel, he'd never even gotten a speeding ticket. He was a careful driver, just as he was careful in all aspects of his life. His bills were always paid on time, his apartment was spotless. At his management job, he had every department under control. Brad had also been careful in love, so careful he had rarely worked up the nerve to ask a woman out -- which was why he was single in his mid-30s. But recently something had upset his balance. Two months earlier, he had seen her for the first time -- a pretty woman in a brightly colored coat who smiled sweetly at people she passed on the sidewalk. He had first noticed her on a drizzly afternoon downtown. The day was gray, but she wore a yellow raincoat and carried a sunshine-yellow umbrella. She had bouncy black hair, and dimples -- dimples! -- when she smiled. He couldn't keep his eyes off her and on the road. Seconds later, Brad clipped the side mirror of a passing car. Insurance had covered the damage. But a few weeks later, he had scraped the door of a BMW. On that day, she was wearing a turquoise dress with a white daisy print. When she stopped to accept a flower from an admiring vendor, Brad's car scraped the BMW. The third time, it was a red polka-dot dress, and Brad crunched the fender of a parked car. And yesterday, the dress had been the color of tangerines. The sunshine woman leaned over to hug the lady who rean the corner grocery store. The car Brad ran into yesterday was a brand-new sports car. The owner of the sports car had jumped up and shouted at him. Brad had pulled over, of course, but his mind was on the woman in the tangerine dress, not the sports car he'd just hit. And now he found himself pulling into a parking space in front of the insurance office, making a mental list of all the reasons the insurance company should not cancel his policy. "Ms. Ainsley will be back from lunch any minute," the receptionist said. "Please help yourself to a cup of coffee." Brad poured a cup and settled in a chair. Seconds later, the front door swung open and a woman breezed in, humming a tune and wearing a turquoise dress covered with daisies. Brad took one look at her bouncy black curls and dimples -- and spilled his cup of coffee. Maria Ainsley had calmly fetched paper towels to clean up the coffee, then said, "I know just how you feel -- I just spilled an entire box of cereal in my apartment. I'm such a klutz!" Brad followed her into her sunny office and took in the messy but somehow cheerful scene. It looked klutzy. And charming. He smiled back. Maria smiled back at Brad. He noticed there was no ring on her finger, and all the photographs around the room were of smiling old people and children. "And now let's talk about this string of accidents you've had, Mr. Jackson," she said. He paused, knowing he couldn't let this moment pass. "I wonder," he said as decades of careful, cautious living slipped away from him. "I wonder if you would allow me to tell you the story over dinner?" * * *

"A Celebration! Student Art Show"

Granite Street Gallery
47 Granite Street
New London, CT
A Celebration!
Student Art Show
Opening Reception: Sunday, May 24, 5-7 p.m.
Wine - Soda - Refreshments
Until Thursday, June 4
Hours: Mon. 7-9 p.m.
Tues. 9:30 - Noon
12:30 -2
7-9 p.m.
Wed. 6:30 - 9:30 p.m.
Thursday 7-9 p.m.
Closed on Memorial Day