The second time I saw Jonathan Larson’s RENT it was in a big old theatre in London. I’ll always remember the size of the speakers; it was as if Godzilla was going to buy a ticket. Forget Mt. Rushmore, I sat there and wondered, what it would be like to climb these things. The wall of music that emanated from these boxes, drowned out many elements of the show, I thought in exchange for what felt like an evening at CBGB.

The songs in RENT deserved better and not necessarily louder. But, RENT was a worldwide sensation. It has been around the world and back in many different languages and stages. Success can get you some pretty big places to play in. For the record, RENT was an off-broadway show (not a knock) that, in my humble opinion worked best on the small stage.

It had this wonderful stagey performance piece feel to a number scenes that really harkened to a certain era in the village. Maureen’s protest was the obvious big performance piece but really Angel’s death sequence, and the homeless as holiday markers throughout the show. It seems to get lost on the big stage.

A week ago I saw a small production of RENT downtown and really smiled at how accessible it felt. The speakers were so small you couldn’t find them. I thought about that evening in London. I was in the stalls surrounded by older British theatre goers and the one comment I heard at intermission (when those monster speakers let us have our hearing back) was “I’m not going to another American production this year”. Fortunately, the show can weather that storm. The songs are too good.

Anyway, It was a tiny stage in downtown San Francisco and the actors would wheel in the scene appropriate scaffolding like sets for the different scenes. The voices were good for this local production; Maia Campbell as Mimi, Milo Boland as Roger, and Albert Hodge as Tom Collins were standouts. In fact, I previously saw Campbell as Angelica in Hamilton, she is quite good. The production wasn’t without problems as personal microphones for the performers would cut out on occasion but it was such a small house, you could still hear the singers. One of the positive things I can say about the movie version is that you can really hear the lyrics to each of the songs but that’s a different feel as well and I don’t like what they cut (movies always do that).

I think RENT is stronger the way it was staged originally.

It’s Thursday night in San Francisco, and my neighborhood is doing that fog thing. While other parts of the country are baking, we’ve got fog spit slapping the branches of the trees outside. My weekend begins in this fluffy gray zone. I love it.

The Russian River area has a softball tournament that begins Saturday, but my brain is already feeling the off-season. It’s time for a break. I know it’s hard to believe, but even I can burn out on softball. Upon unpacking from the Seattle softball tournament, I felt hibernation ready. I don’t mind planning stuff for the future, but right now, it’s husband, dog, and my time.

Seattle is a great city to visit in July. We took a side trip to Bainbridge Island, which was a pleasant surprise. The island has such a quaint small-town feel that you forget you were ever in Seattle. We walked up and down its main street (Coppertop Loop) and stopped at Fletcher’s Bay Winery to sample a flight of wine.

Back on proper cement, the rest of the weekend played out as it generally does, with lots of group meals and softball games. There was also an early flight back to SF on Monday that has me questioning my flight choices. Anyhow the result of all this was a tired softball player. I’m ready to lay in a hammock and have somebody rock me to sleep for a few months.

When my coach sent out an APB for a few softball teams looking for players this weekend, my response was sincere: “I wish them all the best…goodnight.” They will find people, the show must go on, and it will for me in a few months or so, but for now, I want to float on this gray matter and drift along the dream bank.

The view from the ferry to Bainbridge Island.

I placed an old pair of 36″ wide 501 jeans in our outbound donation bucket and couldn’t remember when I stopped wearing these pants. I always wore them with a belt as I preferred a more loose fit experience. I couldn’t remeber when.

Lately, my waist size has been fluctuating downward. How much? I’ve stopped wearing my 34 wide jeans because even with a belt, I felt like it was a potato sack on me. I wear 33’s now but with a belt and a few days ago I noticed that I could go down from this size.

“Do you know how much you weigh? My husband asked. It was an innocent enough question but one I hadn’t contemplated in a long time. I pulled out the scale from under the bathroom vanity. I stood on it and it read LOL, which in this case was 133 pounds. This is about 27 pounds lighter than I have ever been used to being.

It’s a bit of a strange weight for me as it does make a difference in what you wear; pants are one thing, I’ve also noticed shirts (old t-shirts) that are hanging on me funny. I’m not against the new frame but I need to change a few things to better appreciate it. The will undoubetedly benefit the LEVI corporation.

I changed a bunch of things about my regular eating habits; no cheese, regular bread, or an extra plate. Instead there is more veggies, fruit, and water. You heard about folks that were gaining weight during the pandemic, I went in the other direction. I’m on a low sodium diet kick that has some keto features. I’m also walking regularly and / or getting on my bike for regular physical activity.

It was combo of things. Garry was on the the keto thing, as he wanted to lose weight (this has worked for him). I wanted less sodium in my diet (my plates are done without added salt and he uses a shaker for his portion). I never intended to lose the weight but no complaints. I plan to put the 33’s in storage on the off-chance I go on a diet of nothing but cupcakes.

No more sandwiches. 🥪

Luna is a bullet train in dog form. When she has “zoomies”, her footsteps can be heard pounding the ground outside and racing at top speed. She does everything hard and fast; eating food or licking a face. It’s all the same.

Recently, she changed a pattern, that ultimately caused me to adjust a nightly habit. At the end of each night, Luna goes out one final time to the backyard for a bathroom trip. When she comes in, I give her a treat. Somewhere along the way, she decided it was taking too long to get to that snack so she started faking the trip.

She goes out, gets as far as the deck comes back in quick, gets her treat then has to go back out for a real bathroom trip. It’s something I was beginning to call “twosies”. While it was incredibly cute, it was also taking longer to go to sleep.

The last couple of days I’ve tweaked the parameters of our nightly routine and so far it’s working. I tell her okay it’s that time of the night. She runs up to the back door, expecting me to open it. I walk up to the door and instead hand her the treat first. She plops down in front of the door and eats it.

I then open the door and let her go out. She has already eaten what was expected. The only thing left is a bathroom trip. She goes out, does what she needs to do and comes in. The “twosies” are gone. Giving her that pre-emptive treat is kind of strange but by removing the rush to get it, our dog can focus on a final potty break, then bedtime.

Previous to the drenching at the production of the Normal Heart, I fought tears at the end of the first act of Falsettos. I mean, the curtain came down, and I was going to grab it to blow my nose.

We’re listening again to it tonight. I can’t help but think back to the London production. There were some excellent shows on that visit; Falsettos was one of the standouts. The voices and performances rivaled what Broadway delivered previously.

I believe the first song that gets me is Father to son, but then there is much more sadness to come in the show. It’s well written, a roller coaster of songs and you are absolutely a passenger.

It’s funny how I can remember that specific night going to the Other Palace, getting out of the train to drizzly weather. We got there early enough for Garry to grab a soda. The rain picked up and we walked awning to awning to the theatre. We were both completely dry, right on time to create personal waterworks. It was absolutely meant to be a wet night.

There were no masks of course. We were in Pre-COVID times. And yes, my appreciation for this period has only increased. Imagine going to a show and not even thinking about COVID. I hope we get there. We are still wearing masks inside the theatre. I don’t mind as long as I can still see and hear the performance.

Here in present day San Francisco, we’ve been fogged in for four days but today the blue sky poked holes in the fluffy gray. A fog spit morning gave way to a dry night. Anyway, tonight we are home. We’re listening to Falsettos and I’m remembering a rainy night.

On Thursday, I reloaded Windows 10 on an eight-year-old 17-inch i3 laptop. It was time to shake that old digital turtle. The startup had become so slow, I could turn it on, go make coffee, come back and it would still be waking up.

I generally stick with devices until they are completely unreliable and at death’s door. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the pageant of fancy new machines with impressive chips that do everything better and faster. I read the articles and look at the prices, but if I can say “mine still works,” then I’m resistant to an upgrade. At $1700-2000 for a decent new machine with specs I would want, it needs to make good sense.

My response to Apple releasing a couple of new laptops with the M2 chip was to work on the speed of my digital turtle. Over the years, so much has been loaded on this thing. Starting from scratch with this laptop made absolute sense.

I have use of a home PC desktop (older, good for web stuff and low end photo/graphics) and a very dated Macbook Pro (only good for web) so the 17 inch laptop has always been my go to for major projects. It’s extinction would require an upgrade. I would rather that cash go to travel also; I don’t care for electronic waste.

In fact, I remember having an old apple titanium book that I stuck with for a long time. The chip burned out. There was actual smoke coming from it. That is what convinced me to upgrade (that and it wouldn’t turn on anymore). I was disappointed about the T-book because of all the cool work I did with it back in my Red Cross days.

The old 17-inch laptop is responding quite nicely to the operating system rebirth. Now I can turn it on and open a program in a moment. It’s like having a new computer. All I had to do was shake the digital turtle a bit.

The fog rolls in and the fog rolls out. And there are bunch of things that happen with people under those wisps of coolant.

It’s nice to be back to my part-time schedule at work. I was covering hours for someone who had to take some time off. I was coming in 5 days a week for a little bit.

I’m happy to do it. When your employer is great about time off (softball tournaments and last-second trips to Europe), then yeah, you need me to cover? I’m there.

Our softball season ended in a loss. We dropped an up-and-down seesaw of a game to a pretty good team. It was a bit of a rebuilding year for us. We have some new players that we are working in, and this takes time and practice.

We decided early in the season not to go for the World Series berth, and it was the right call to make. We’re still working things out, roster-wise. Most of the guys were not interested in going to Dallas for it. I’m going to lobby hard next season for Minneapolis. I haven’t been there since the 2007 North Star Classic.

The end of the season doesn’t mean zero softball. There are still tournaments out there. We will be back to Seattle for the Emerald City Classic. I’m also trying to rally some interest in NYC’s Gotham Classic in October.

It was easy to get a full roster going to Seattle. There always a bunch of softball players that want to do that one. I’ve got more than enough players. I like having a fail-safe roster for those last cancel folks. This current roster should be able to withstand, the last second withdrawal.

We had a slight heatwave in San Francisco. It lasted about 3 days with Wednesday actually reaching 92 degrees. I was melting but somehow resisted carrying our mobile air conditioning unit up the stairs. It’s heavy. The fog ultimately rewarded my patience.

The best thing I can say about this weekend is that I am in one piece. I am feeling the glow of being alive with my hubby and dog; here on the eve of the blood red moon.

We should all be happy to be alive, even when we see signs of craziness in our country (and other countries). I can’t help but express this, a few days after being a temporary hood ornament on a Jeep Wrangler.

Friday the 13th started off innocently but it didn’t stay that way. After work, I crossed on the green at 16th and Harrison in the Mission District. As I made it to almost the middle of the intersection, a car that ran a red to turn in to me was going fast in order to beat the oncoming cars. I quickly saw the large front of the car on top of me. My one reaction move was to jump high. The car hit me around the mid-section, my body forward rolling on the dash and off falling on the cement street.

All adrenaline, I slowly stood. He didn’t even roll down his window.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Are you shitting me?”

Then I interjected with major F bombs and comments about his driving, which was unusual for me. This was a weird situation. He drove away. San Francisco strangers pitched in, one person in a car across, took pictures of the license plates (now the cops have it), two other people offered to be witnesses.

I was able to walk away from it on my legs. I keep playing it in my head, the car seconds from me and the leap. Why did I think to jump? My brain accepts that their is going to be impact? I know I didn’t want to be underneath the tire. It looked like a Hollywood stunt gone bad and now I’m sure I don’t want that profession.

Anyway, It’s a couple of days later, there are no broken bones, nothing awkward about my movements. My body search has come up with nothing but one scrape behind my hand. It’s not pretty but I’ll take it.

Right now, I’m alive in San Francisco with my husband and my pit bull. Let there be blood on the moon, not on the pavement.

This has been a great weekend for getting on with the overall to-do list. And while that may not be sexy or exciting, it does need to happen. We did some major weeding in the garden before it got crazy back there. I did bills. I did laundry. I could not be stopped.

With no softball on tap and Garry no class (to teach), we could exist, without running off somewhere. Naturally, we did get out a few times, once to see a local production of Fun Home and another time to catch the new Dr. Strange movie.

While we loved the original run of Fun Home, perhaps we were spoiled with the top-notch performers offered by the previous version. The 42nd Street Moon production of the show was a heartbreaking and weak entry. The cast was singing as if they were all in many different shows but not together in this one. Case in point, there was a moment in one song, where they had to sing in unison like a chorus would but they all came in at different points and flatter than a pancake. Intermission, or what I like to call the escape clause didn’t exist for this local production so we were trapped.

One of the things that’s tough, about seeing a poor production of a show you have enjoyed are the songs being sung or rather bludgeoned. It’s a seat squirmer. You sit there wondering if the performers would notice you climbing over-polite people in order to leave. Positive note: the actor that played the wife and mother on the show did a decent job with the singing for her part but otherwise… Oh, I did like the wallpaper choice.

We saw the Dr. Strange movie Friday afternoon which turned out to be a pretty good time to go, lots of teens but thankfully not a crowded showing. It was a good summer popcorn movie and we were transported for a couple of hours. Afterward, it was back to the multiverse of weeds and getting that garden in some kind of shape. It’s nice to sit out there and relax with the dog, the colors of the flowers in the background and the partially sunny skies giving way to the oncoming fog.

Friday – Garry looked better this morning. He said, he still didn’t feel 100 percent. We both took a Covid test that came out fine. What is there to do? He called everyone he invited for dinner and made sure they were aware and informed. I’ve asked him to hold off on deciding on the UK trip and he was thinking along those lines anyway.

He decided after going to the store and feeling exhausted that he would call off dinner. I took apart the long table, that I had put together on Thursday, and brought it back downstairs. The living room and dining room are now back to the way they looked pre seder preparation. I’m happy to see him napping and getting the rest, that his body is undoubtedly requiring.

It’s a theatre evening, SF Playhouse is putting on Quiara Alegria Hudes’ Water by the Spoonful. Hudes wrote the book for In the Heights. Spoonful was extremely well received in 2012 with a Pulitzer prize to its credit. I’m looking forward to seeing what the playhouse does with the material.

A few years back we used to be subscribers for the Playhouse. Then came a year where the listing of the shows didn’t float our boat so we passed. The year after that was the COVID closure. This season there are a couple of things we want to see. We already have tickets for their Follies revival in June. We are really happy they’re back doing live theatre again.

Well, it’s a sunny cool day in the city by the bay and I’m going to walk my dog. Let her soak up the sun before its untimely departure. I’ll shower and sniff out dinner options (there is a ton of brisket). I’ll pick out a clean shirt and face mask to wear to the theatre.