Don't mess with retirees!

Just got this e-mail from my friend Gina in Germany. I love it -- hope you do too.

From a retired friend comes this tidbit:

Working people frequently ask retired people what they do to make their days interesting. Well, for example, the other day I went downtown and into a shop. I was only there for about 5 minutes and when I came out there was a cop writing out a parking ticket.

I said to him, 'Come on, man, how about giving a retired person a break?'

He ignored me and continued writing the ticket. I called him a Nazi. He glared at me and wrote another ticket for having worn tires. So I called him a 'doughnut-eating Gestapo.' He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first. Then he wrote a third ticket. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more I abused him the more tickets he wrote.

Personally, I didn't care. I came downtown on the bus, and the car that he was putting the tickets on had a bumper sticker that said 'Republicans in 08.'

I try to have a little fun each day now that I'm retired. It's important to my health.

Mauritius

I broke a vow to myself last night. I had said I wasn’t going to anymore Manhattan Theatre Club productions at the Biltmore. They are consistently disappointing, to downright dreadful. I broke that vow because of the cast, specifically F. Murray Abraham whom I haven’t seen on stage since the early 1980s when I saw him as Cyrano at my beloved CenterStage in Baltimore. That production and his performance were so marvelous I went back twice.

I also knew Alison Pill to be a new actor to watch, having seen her last season in “Blackbird.”

Unfortunately, neither has much to work with here. Both play one-dimensional characters, as do the rest of the cast in Theresa Rebeck’s play. And that’s just what I usually find wrong with MTC’s Broadway productions, mediocre to bad plays.

The plot revolves, and I use that word loosely, around two half-sisters fighting over the right to a rare stamp collection. The play is probably supposed to be a dark comedy, but the pace is far too slow to sustain a comedy and there is nothing funny, dark or otherwise, about the dialogue.

It certainly isn’t a drama because of the flat characters, clichéd scenarios and lack of relationships between these five people who just happen to inhabit the same stage.

One thing that did stand out as top notch were the self-changing sets by John Lee Beatty. They were a marvel to watch.

At least “Mauritius” wasn’t as bad as others I’ve seen there that had me fleeing the theatre at intermission, never to return. I kept hoping, faintly, that it would get better.

It didn’t.

Gloriae Dei Cantores

When I listen to this group I always think, that must be what heaven sounds like. I first encountered them in “Shining Like the Sun: The Chants of Transfiguration” (see May 31 review.) Then again with “Folk Mass,” which has a misleading title that sounds as if it will feature simple guitar songs; this group is far too musically sophisticated for that. (See June 13 review.)

Now here they are with two new recordings, “He Has Heard My Voice: Psalms of Faithfulness and Hope” and “Eclipse: The Voice of Jean Langlais.” Together they represent the voice of God to me -- loving and comforting in the first and majestic and powerful in the second.

“Voice” is my favorite of these two because the Psalms are a twice daily part of my life. “The Book of Common Prayer,” our Episcopal prayer book, has the 150 Psalms divided into morning and evening prayer for 30 days, so each month for many years now I have been praying all the Psalms. They are my friends, my comforters, my sources of strength. This recording in the Anglican tradition is the second in a series of three.

The singers of Gloriae Dei Cantores give radiant voice to the words I love so much, and when they are accompanied by the organ, they are the personification of praise. This group trained in England in its formative years. According to a press release, chanting psalms is at the heart of their worship, and members engage in personal study of each text. This deep love and understanding of the words is obvious in their singing. It is prayerful, poetic and joyful. I play this CD often.

“Eclipse,” with its organ and brass accompaniment, represents for me the more solemn, mighty side of God. The CD celebrates the centennial of organist/composer Jean Langlais, one of last century’s foremost composers of sacred music, with three of his masses -- “Messe Solennelle, evoking the terrors of the Occupation during World War II and the yearning for peace; “Messe en style ancien,” demonstrating Langlais’ love for Gregorian chant; and “Grant Us Thy Peace.” It is a powerful recording, beautifully played and sung, representing more than 40 years of Langlais’ compositions for choir, organ and brass. It is a worthy tribute to the man and to the glory of God.

To order these CDs, visit www.paracletepress.com. For information about Gloriae Dei Cantores, visit www.gdcchoir.org.

What do you want to be caught dead doing?

I received this essay from Kenny Moore yesterday. His commentaries are always full of blessing and humor. I'm sure you'll enjoy this one.


I had to fly to Pittsburgh on business the other day and I thought I was going to die. Not that anything traumatic happened. In fact, the trip was uneventful. Just the same, I made sure I kissed my wife and hugged the kids before I left for the airport. I've changed my behavior to now consider that this might be the last time I see them before my untimely demise. I get similar feelings when I drive over a bridge or go through a tunnel. Attending a meeting in a tall office building or opening a piece of mail sets off the same alarm.

Airports have become the new chapels of the world. A flight on a plane has become a call to prayer. I'm also finding that it's kind of bizarre leaving my house at 4:00 a.m. to catch a 7 o'clock flight, when the airport "chaplains" don't even make it in till 6:00 a.m. I wind up waiting on line in the dark for an hour or more to bolster patriotism and protect myself from terrorists. I guess it's a spiritual thing.

Psychology 101 taught that most of us live our lives in a serious state of denial about death. Woody Allen said that he didn't mind dying; he just didn't want to be there when it happened. I like living my life that way. It helps me get on with it, remain productive and fight morbid thoughts. Even though I'm aware that I can buy my coffin ahead of time on the web and realize considerable savings, I still avoid the transaction.

However, my life wasn't always one that ran from discussions of death. Or eschewed meditations on the frail human condition. There was a time when it was different.

An Older Tradition

In my younger days, I spent 15 years in a monastic community. They had a spiritual practice called "The Exercise for a Happy Death." Sounds kind of morbid, but if truth be told, it was rather refreshing. On the last day of each month, you spent time alone reflecting on death. It was a chance to see what you were doing right and wrong. A time to leave behind the distractions of the day-to-day world, go inside yourself and get clear on what's important. There would be prayer services and a chance to confess your sins to the priest. Some would spend the time planning their own funerals. Eulogies were occasionally scripted and I'm sure some monks would have prepared PowerPoint presentations if there were computers back then.

There was something called a "Superfluous Box" that was put out for the entire day. The idea was that if you had acquired anything over the past month that you really didn't need or that encroached on your commitment to the simple monastic life, you were to deposit it in the box. It would be given to the poor or more needy members of the community. This was a chance to lighten the load on your personal journey to sanctity. Lunch was intentionally austere to keep the senses focused on eternity. However, "The Exercise for a Happy Death" always ended with full dinner and a special dessert. It represented a spiritual sense of humor: while we spent the day focusing on the grave, life still needed to be lived and celebrated.

Business Transition

My transition from the religious to the secular world has been going on for over 20 years. The most noticeable difference is that when I was in the monastery, 20% of my superiors thought they were Divinely inspired. In business, the number's up to 80%. As we aging baby-boomers confront mortality with cancer, strokes and wrinkles and I put my life on the line just going to work, I consider "The Exercise for a Happy Death" as a practice worth transplanting into the secular world. And my monastic roots are starting to resurface in peculiar ways:

1. I wake up daily with the prospect of death before me;
2. A brief prayer of thanks gets uttered as my feet hit the bedroom floor;
3. At work I become more tolerant of others, wondering if maybe they'll be dead sometime soon;
4. I spend part of my day getting quiet and going inside myself;
5. I write letters and cards to my wife and two young boys that get put away in a box in the basement. When I die, I've arranged that they'll be presented to them as gifts from the grave: expressions of love and remembrance from someone who's gone;
6. On the last day of each month, I eat a hearty dinner and partake of a special dessert to recall that I'm still alive and have other chances to cooperate with the Divine;
7. I give away things I no longer need and look for reasons to put a few bucks in someone else's palm;
8. I acknowledge my mistakes and make it a point to say sorry somewhere in the day;
9. I read obituaries in the newspaper for inspiration, hope and humor. I remain in awe of how the human condition works itself out with zest, flair and a slightly twisted sense of the sacred.


The final curtain

Steven Wright, the comedian, may have nailed it on the head when he said: "I believe I'll live forever. So far, so good!" I don't know if it is ever possible to get in touch with our mortality or fully comprehend the preciousness of life. And it's certainly been more challenging living outside the cloistered walls. I've personally had two near-death experiences over the years. I came away from both with a profound sense of clarity and thankfulness. But alas, it was short-lived. A few months down the road, I was back yelling at the kids, criticizing the wife and complaining about senior management. My therapist said it was a sign of normalcy. I felt like I had lost something precious.

To help regain some of what got lost, I take more risks to scare myself back into clarity. If I could be dead tomorrow, what should I not pass up doing for want of courage? "I wouldn't be caught dead doing that..." gets repositioned into "So what is it that I want to be caught dead doing?" Then I go out and do it. Some might say that's suicidal. I find it enlivening. There are consequences, though. I am living with significantly more guilt, as well as a marked attraction to tomfoolery. The propensity to say, "What the hell ... let's try it" has increased. My wife says it's gotten out of hand. I fear she'll seek revenge when she writes my eulogy.

Fortunately, there are the daily business reminders to keep me on track. All I need do is get ready for my next business trip or open an unsolicited piece of mail. New opportunities are presented once again. I'm learning to take advantage of them ... for who knows? Maybe one day it will all come to an end.

P.S. If you're thinking about writing me, give in to the temptation. I love getting mail ... and being influenced by what you have to say. Please e-mail me at kennythemonk@yahoo.com.


Kenny Moore
Author of 'The CEO and the Monk'
www.kennythemonk.com

Never Too Late: The Songs of Jan Horvath

Now this is different! Usually when a Broadway performer releases a CD, it’s of classic show tunes or love songs in traditional arrangements. Not Jan Horvath, who proves with these 11 songs she wrote that she’s got the heart of a country girl, and a crystal clear voice to go with it.

I really enjoy “Country Lilt,” a quirky little love song reminiscent of those by Kate and Anna McGarrigle: “So if you’re not waiting at the pearly gate/I won’t have to think or even hesitate/I’ll give all the angels back their wings/Their golden harps and all of their things/Yes if you’re not in heaven on judgment day/I’ll know you’ve gone the other way/So to show you that my love is true/I’ll go to hell dear just for you.” What fun!

For inspiration, Horvath includes “Questions” and “Never Too Late,” songs about finding your true path in life, and a lovely number called “Immigrant’s Anthem,” which she premiered with the Cincinnati Pops Orchestra in 2005, and most recently sang with The Rochester Philharmonic on a barge in the Erie Canal with about 14,000 people lining the shores. A well-deserved honor; I hope she will have many more opportunities to present it.

As a music critic I am blessed with receiving many CDs that entertain or enrich me. Horvath’s does both. I was fortunate to have this one given to me personally instead of the usual route -- by the FedEx man courtesy of a publicist. I met Jan at Broadway Blessing -- she’s a friend of Phil Hall who was performing (and whom I now consider a friend too!).

Thanks for coming to BB, Jan, and thanks for bringing me this CD. I’m grateful to have it in my collection.

To learn more about Jan Horvath visit her web site at JanHorvath.com. “Never Too Late” is available at http://cdbaby.com/cd/horvathjan.

The Dining Room

I love sitting back and watching Gurney-world. His plays are laugh-out-loud funny, but not in a cruel way.
“The Dining Room” is different from other plays of his I’ve seen in that it is MULTI-charactered. The six first-rate actors -- Anne McDonough, Timothy McCracken, Dan Daily, Claire Lautier, Samantha Soule and Mark J. Sullivan -- play about 50 different parts, WASPs of several generations and their servants. The common theme is the importance, or lack thereof, of gathering around the dining room table, and it is portrayed in unrelated scenes. Director Jonathan Silverstein does a lovely job of keeping it all rolling.
I grew up Irish Catholic and not WASP, but my mother had so many of the same sensibilities as the older generation here. We ate dinner every night in the dining room, by candlelight, with the silver and linen napkins, the whole nine yards, only without the servants. Many of the scenes in the play hit home to me, but one in particular brought back memories. Two teenage girls are sitting around the table drinking a mixture of vodka, gin and Fresca waiting for some boys to come over to smoke pot. Helen, the girl who is visiting, is impressed and wants to stay there when the boys arrive. Sarah, who lives there, wants no part of the dining room and all it represents -- formality, gentility, proper ways of doing things.
I was that girl, and the visiting girl in reverse. The first time I had dinner at my grade school friend Terry Hagen’s house I was enthralled because we ate TV dinners in the kitchen with her family. I had never had a TV dinner and was fascinated. We had gone to the stores and selected them, which meant that everybody could have something different and exactly what they wanted. Then we ate them in the containers, which was so cool because the vegetables, potatoes and meat each had their own little walled space instead of all being on a china plate. I thought how lucky Terry was and when I got home I asked my mother if we could start eating TV dinners in the kitchen. Absolutely not, but she did let me do it the next time she went out for dinner. It just wasn’t as much fun doing it by myself. I had never given a thought to eating in the dining room by candlelight, but from then on I envied Terry and her TV dinners in the kitchen. In the play when it is suggested that people nowadays eat in the kitchen, the older generation is horrified and makes it perfectly clear they will not. My mother would agree.
Originally produced in 1982, this delightful revival of “The Dining Room” is presented by Keen Company, which did a poignantly beautiful production of “Tea and Sympathy” earlier this year. It runs through Oct. 14 at The Clurman Theater on Theatre Row.

Confession

What a lovely discovery! I had never heard of Joshua Williams, who wrote and composed the 12 songs on this CD, but his web site says this is his third release. I’ll have to look into the others.

I had reservations initially when I saw the title of the first song -- “Loser for Jesus.” The negativity of the word loser paired with Jesus made me think of that derogatory term from the late 70s, Jesus freak. One listen, though, and I was hooked, as well as dancing and singing along to this country/rock composition. The words make it clear just what kind of loser Williams is talking about: “’Cause I’m a loser for Jesus Christ/I’ve given my all; yes I’m learning to die/I’m a loser for Jesus Christ/I’m ready to lose my life.”

It’s a lively start to a CD that offers a variety of styles. The title track, “Confession,” is a gentle change, with its simple guitar arrangements of Samuel Medley’s 1785 words of contrition and reliance on God’s love and forgiveness to give eternal life.

I also like “Rock of My Salvation” with its catchy folk/rock melody, and the upbeat “This is My God,” which makes my heart soar. The variety continues with “Song Five” and the comforting and beautiful voice of his wife, Kerry Williams, singing the joyful words of the Song of Songs.

In the boldest offering, “Luke 14:26,” Williams is courageous enough to tackle one the most difficult passages in the gospels, Jesus’ tough statement about the need to hate those who are closest to us. I know clergy who avoid this lesson by preaching on the Epistle on the Sunday it appears. But following Jesus isn’t just about joy and praise, it has its challenges as well. Once again with the simplicity of guitar, Williams sings about seeing Jesus perform miracles, feed the hungry, forgive the sinner, and then the shocking part: “But today He did something that/I’ve never seen before/He turned to the largest crowd and said aloud,/ ‘This is from the Lord’/He said you have to hate your father,/and hate your mother/I don’t understand, I can’t comprehend,/. . . I don’t want to know, this can’t be so,/do I really have to die to my life?”

Then he recounts other marvels he has witnessed in following Jesus, including the clincher of them all: “But today He did something that/I’ve never seen before/He gave His life and was crucified,/I know now He is the Lord.” And he understands the context of Jesus’ words, that “this is what love is for. . . I will come to know, ‘cause He told me so,/what it means to die to my life.”

That’s rigorous theology to put over in a song, but Williams doesn’t soft-pedal it, and he reminds us of the daily task we have of putting aside this life for the purpose of advancing God’s kingdom.

I can imagine this CD being a big hit with Christian youth groups, in religious education, on retreats and in church services, but it’s also a good listen everyday for anyone on the journey of faith. You can hear selections at Williams’ web site, www.newdayministry.org, and you can order a copy from www.winepressbooks.com. I highly recommend it.