Spin, Spit, Leave The Ghostlight On...

Today's blog which I do hope you enjoy, contains some highly informative and very amusing bits which all really are why "there IS no business like our beloved show business."🎭💫

Theatre is bursting with traditions, rituals, and yes, superstitions too that we who were born with theatre in our souls have been known to take very seriously down through the centuries which makes the mysticism and magic of theatre even more profound.

As my life has been steeped with all this vast treasure

I thought you may just enjoy being enlightened with a little of this wealth too...

Saying "break a leg" instead of saying "good luck"...

"Leg" in theatre is actually the curtains hanging in the wings stage left and stage right masking the backstage.  Breaking a leg means one has broken past this barrier and made it successfully onstage.  Some believe this phrase was born in early vaudeville when performers waited backstage and it was decided in the moment if their act would go on, so if they were sent on they had broken past the curtain leg.

Others believe theatres have many ghosts from our vast past hanging around who have nothing better to do than cause mischief by making the opposite of what you want to have happen.  So by wishing for something bad like breaking a leg will bring something good like a performance or successful play instead.

Merde...

Merde actually translates to "shit" in French.  You see the orgin of this tradition traces back to 19th Century Paris when attendees of the Paris Opera Ballet would pull up to the famed Palais Garnier in horse-drawn carriages.  The more merde the more audience members, thus success with a sold out House.

Do not whistle in the theatre...

In the 1600s theatres began to employ mechanisms to  raise curtains, scenery, props and even actors.  The rigging of these theatrical "fly systems" was very similar to that of many sailing ships then.  So it was only a matter of time before sailors were finding work as  theatre crew.  On the seas sailors communicated to each other through a code of whistling.  When they began working in theatre this means of communication followed.  A certain combination of whistles could mean instructions to raise or lower scenery.  

The huge problem with this though was if a actor just happened to cross the stage whistling the sailors working the fly system would very easily confuse that whistling to be THEIR ditty for a cue.  This then would place in grave danger anyone far below on the stage who became terribly crushed by a wrong scene change brought on by the errant whistling.  

Of course now centuries later theatre technology has drastically changed.  Yet our penchant for keeping our superstitions alive and thriving still means no whistling.  Period.  Nada.  Zilch.  Never.  Ever.  

You see we take our long held embraced traditions very seriously. 

Wing it...

This phrase of ours has now been incorporated into the greater colloquial lexicon these days, but when actors would "wing it" they were going on stage unprepared.  Like partying hard because they got the role in a play whose lines they were supposed to have memorized but didn't...get...memorized.  This is where "winging it" comes in you see by having the audacity to come on stage unprepared to play a part without memorizing any lines and THEN...either relying on the prompter in the wings or have pages of the script precariously taped to the Theatre Set, props, or...the...wing...flats.  Thus "winging it."

In the limelight...

Limelight was the first gas lamp alternative for lighting theatres.  Invented in the early 1800s limelight was generated by heating calcium oxide with a blend of oxygen and hydrogen.  Theatres began using limelight in the 1830s for what became our early spotlights.  

So now we continue our grand cherished traditions we devotedly keep by saying, "Those in the limelight are the center of attention" when they are actually in the spotlight shining down upon them.

Never ever mention "Macbeth" in a theatre...

Even just WHISPERING the name of one of William Shakespeare's bloodiest plays inside of a theatre is a most egregious taboo.  In fact if one were to commit such a terrible act this will send most of us who have given our lives to theatre into a high state of panic.  I am talking terror here folks.  

Now there are a variety of speculations as to why saying the play's name in a theatre is considered such bad luck setting aflame fear in our hearts.  One possible reason for this superstition passed down through the centuries comes from the incantations of the three witches in Macbeth.  It is believed that Shakespeare either adapted these very spells from real witches or actual books of black magic.  This then opened the play up to the forces of darkness which are rumored to plague productions of what most now refer to as "The Scottish Play."

So if anyone DOES make the dreadful mistake of saying "Macbeth" in a theatre, we theatre people have some countercurses we believe will keep the doom from occurring.  One must follow these instructions exactly or shit happens.

First, rush outside the theatre.  NOT walking mind you but RUSHING.  Got it?  Then you MUST spin around in a circle THREE times, NOT four.  You do NOT want to screw this next part up.  After you spin THREE times you MUST spit.  Do NOT forget to spit.  This spitting part is very VERY important.  How important?  So important I shall tell you again.  Spin.  THREE times in a circle.  Spitooweee.😂

Never ever place a peacock feather onstage...

So why is a beautifully ornamental bit of plumage bad luck in a theatre production?  The pattern on a peacock feather creates an eye or according to legend an evil eye, which brings REALLY bad juju to a production.  And we're talking BAD juju here too.  The idea of the evil eye hidden in objects extends back as far as the Ancient Greeks in their theatre productions.  

Peacock feathers were also feared by early Europeans as they were part of the ornamentation of the Mongol hordes who invaded parts of the continent during the Middle Ages.  So for a long time peacock feathers were looked upon by Europeans as part of a sinister dark and bloody history.  Much like the Macbeth curse you SO do NOT ever want such savagery and evil associated with a production.  Especially one you happen to be the Set Designer for.  Thus please keep your peacock feathers from entering any theatre you intend to visit to avoid unleashing any bad juju.

Be sure to turn on the ghostlight...

Never EVER leave a stage entirely dark.  Trust me on this.  Turning on the ghostlght is a very important thing to do.

Practicality might be part of it since there is always a plethora of obstacles like furniture, trap doors, a well constructed theatre set, and orchestra pits which tend to create accidents.  

Theatre people all down through centuries of our proud history strongly believe our theatres are inhabited by theatre ghosts who need the ghostlights too.  

Commom sense may be another explanation for our ghostlights.  For when theatres were first lit in the early 1800s before electricity and the lights were powered 

by gas which as you know gas is combustible and could build up pressure within the gas lines.  Running the flame of a ghost light in a theatre during non-performance times burned excess gas eliminating the pressure that might result in an explosion.  And though we no longer use gas to light theatres with anymore our superstitious tradition still remains fully intact passed down from one generation to the next.

So now my dear ones I have opened up some of Theatres' vast superstitious treasures for you.  I hope you may enjoy having been enlightened by my wisdom.

Now do NOT forget to spit after spinning THREE times and LEAVE THE GHOSTLIGHT ON.

Ernest Borgnine...

Before I now finally share the story of this friendship I was blessed to have with dear Mr. Borgnine, I shall first briefly tell who he was for those unfamiliar with him.

Think "McHale's Navy" comedy television show during the 1960's and most immediately know exactly who

Mr. Borgnine was.  But he was far more.

Mr. Borgnine was born 24 January 1917 in Hamden, Connecticut.  His parents were both Italian and he had a younger sister.

After he graduated from High School Mr. Borgnine joined the Navy serving six years.  Right after he was discharged though Pearl Harbor happened and he immediately rejoined serving an additional four years in the Navy.

After Mr. Borgnine was discharged and he returned home he didn't know what to do with himself.  Acting wasn't even on his radar then.  He got a job at a factory but realized that wasn't what he wanted to do either.  So Mr. Borgnine's Mother suggested the stage reminding him what a ham he was acting out funny stories he told.  This resonated with him.  He went to a Drama School, then New York, steadily getting work.  All this within ten years time when he found himself on stage accepting the Oscar For Best Actor Of 1955 for the movie "Marty."

From there Mr. Borgnine's career really took off continuing for over sixty years on stage, screen, and television.

"McHale's Navy," running from 1962-1966 became a hit success as it ran and has been in reruns since around the world.

Just before Mr. Borgnine died at age 95 in 2012, he was honoured with a Lifetime Achievement Award where he spoke.  There were many very special things about Mr. Borgnine.  That night he touchingly reminded the many celebrities present how lucky they were to be there.

There was also another very touching thing he often 

did which endeared him to the many working behind 

the scenes in theatre, film, and television most never acknowledge.  Yet Mr. Borgnine always came shining forth as he passionately brought an awareness of us to others.  He knew how in this show business of ours it takes a huge team behind the scenes to make the magic happen...to make the actors shine.

Through the years many of us including myself were very aware of the ways Mr. Borgnine championed the team behind the scenes.  Some of us were especially touched by this actually.

And one of those wrote the man a letter.

I never expected to hear back from Ernie but I wrote it anyway to thank him.  In it I briefly told him about myself being a very TALL 4'3" Theatre Scene Designer who dressed like a hippie with quite a sense of humour, and galloped on horses.  But more importantly I expressed how much his voice on behalf of backstage crews everywhere meant so much to us all.

Well I did receive a letter.  A very dear touching letter.  A letter with a urgent question right off, "How DO you get ON horses, Addy?!!"

So began a friendship by letter.  Then occasional phone calls.  We loved each other's humour and stories.  And we soon discovered we both were hopeless empaths.

We both could not be any different than we were from each other and yet the same.

One of The Eleven of that elite Scene Painting Class I have written about here had been begging me to come visit him in LA.  Finally I had a space of time where I could.

I called Ernie.

"Now look Ernie, I'm coming to LA to visit a Scene Designer I went to school with.  I would love to connect with you for a visit but please don't feel like you have to because I know how busy you ar..."

"WHEN?!!  TELL ME WHEN!  DO YOU NEED A PLACE TO STAY?  HOW SOON ARE YOU COMING?!!"

Ernie definitely wanted to visit!😂

Two times during my visit...on a set and on a beach we talked all about the meaning of life, theatre, Italian food, books, horses, dwarf life, Adelaide 101, Ernie's life.

"I promise I won't ever tell The National Enquirer on 

you, Ernie!"🤣

"Gee thanks, Addy!"😂

 As I watched Ernie accept his Screen Actors' Award when he was 95 I could see his own indomitable spirit shining bright but in a body weakened by age.

We spoke one final time.

"Ernie, thank you for having me along.  I'm so grateful for you and proud of you."

"Addy, the same to you my dear.  You have been such a joy to know.  We'll meet again someday."

And we will.  

Keeping Heaven laughing when we do.😊💫

Here We Go Loop The Loop...

Though Kentucky is not considered to be a deep south state we nevertheless share some of the unique traits of the south.  Three of the most important things here are charm, saving face, and loyalty.  Gossip absolutely does not EVER apply to southern loyalty you see, for one can gossip like crazy without shame from one end of Kentucky to the other and yet STILL be considered as VERY loyal.

It is also very highly important to know this region is quite hilly.  For our Muldraugh Hills throughout Horse Country Kentucky are not JUST hills BUT are noble MOUNTAINS worn down by age.  

Also here in the south especially on many of our horse farms the main houses have huge verandas where families gather on nice Sunday afternoons.  Another very charming thing about the south is the fact ladies here are addressed as "Miss" with their first name, only it tends to get pronounced as "Miz" instead, such as Miz Adelaide.

My just-a-friend Danny exemplified southern charm and as I soon discovered saving face which means tenaciously holding onto one's dignity no matter how much one is losing one's dignity, which by the way Danny took to extremes.  Danny also tinkered on cars yet I assure you he wasn't at all as good on them as he thought he was.  In fact Danny failed miserably when it came to cars (and horses too actually), BUT he boarded a horse at the same farm I did which is how we knew each other.  

After I had to learn to walk again the second time following my second spine surgery, but hadn't been allowed to drive yet Danny very kindly drove me out to the farm with him.  But for some reason he was always driving a different car though.🙃

Have I said how hilly it is here yet?  Believe me it really IS very VERY hilly here.🤣

So one bright Sunday afternoon after Danny and I had been out at the farm and were heading back to town 

we were speeding down a very steep former mountain when Danny calmly said to me, "Uh oh, Miz Adelaide, the brakes went out again."

Not so calmly I replied, "WHAT?!!  WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE BRAKES WENT OUT?!!"😱

"We have no brakes."🙄 

"OHHH SHIT!"

Then as we were careening down this very steep hill which used to be a mountain, Danny suddenly turned the speeding car into the driveway of the Higgins Mansion.  On the veranda were gathered all the generations of Higginses with all of their iced teas.😳

The driveway had a loop which proceeded right in front of the verandah (southern spelling).  Danny wanted to drive around this loop a few times till we hopefully slowed down enough to proceed on our way.  But you see, we were not in a position to tell the Higgins family what was happening BECAUSE WE COULDN'T STOP TO TELL THEM, and Danny was flat out determined to save any remaining shreds of his dignity at all cost, while his passenger was wondering if SHE should save her life by making a leap from the speeding car and to hell with any dignity.

"Now Miz Adelaide each time we drive past the Higginses veranDAH politely wave and smile to them so they think what we're doing is normal."

"WHAT?!!  THIS ISN'T NORMAL."🤣

"Please just do it?  I don't want the Higgins to think

I've screwed up another car."🙃

SO...we ended up making not one, not four, but FIVE loops all around the Higgins' driveway loop very politely waving and smiling to all the Higginses each loop we went around like not a thing was wrong, as all the Higginses very politely waved and smiled back to us each loop we made with the most startled looks upon their faces.🥴

"Uh Danny, aren't they all wondering WHY WE'RE NOT STOPPING?"🤣

"Probably.  But southern charm means if somebody comes down your driveway making loops around your loop one Sunday while very politely waving and smiling as they go by in front of your verandah each time without stopping, you respond with sincere politeness back without questioning their reasons."🙄

"BUT DANNY, THEIR FACES HAVE 'QUESTIONING OUR REASONS' WRITTEN ALL OVER THEM!"😂

"Yeah, well maybe being a little mysterious about exactly why we're making these loops around their loop is a good thing."

"Danny, you know they're going to be talking about this for decades right?"

"Maybe."

By the time we made five loops and headed safely on our way with the brakes miraculously working again somehow, Danny and I left all the Higginses and their ice teas with one final series of our well executed very polite smiles with waving and then even a toot on the car horn too after a very charmingly successful saving dignity event.👍

And yes, nearly everyone in the whole region soon heard about the Sunday the charming Danny and Miz Adelaide made a social call FROM A MOVING CAR TEN LOOPS (it became exaggerated in the MANY retellings through the decades you see) while happily waving and smiling at the Higgins family as they all sat on their veranDAH with their ice teas very happily waving and smiling back.

I began driving again immediately afterwards...🤣

To Open This Window...

My Dear Twitter Readers, when I began this blog I made the decision to write only about my very full journey and not where my deteriorating health has brought me to now.  I have always been far more at ease being the pied piper rather than going in depth about where my health has brought me.  Several months ago though I opened a rare window going in depth where I am and what days are like being in my body because I have touched on the dire prognosis given to me at age thirty-four where my body was taking me.  As I have many new blog readers since I posted these two pieces I am reposting these.  Not to bring sadness but to hopefully convey my resiliency and continued courage to inspire.  Because it takes fire to make a diamond.  And darkness to make a star shine bright.  So I open My Window.]

My dear ones, since this blog and my life have always been about living my life on the bright side this is the place where I strive to bring you.  For you see my journey is not defined so much by where I am now but by the many amazing ways I arrived.

For the second time only I shall open the window and share with you what my days are really like at this time of my journey where my body brings me. 

There has been a reason why I refer to my spinal cord inflammation disease as that and not in more detail than what is officially happening within my spinal cord because it is so complicated.  Also scary for those who care and I care about not wanting to burden those who care.

Yet I daresay for this blog as a whole, I need to open another window as I did previously about what my days are currently.  So I will share in medical detail what exactly my spinal cord inflammation disease is so it is explained.

First due to not having cartilage between my vertebra this alone has compromised my spinal cord, besides a severe curvature of my spine.  Surgeries were needed as bone was pressing in on my spinal cord causing pain and nerve damage to my bladder.  One spine surgery turned into seven.  Three of them to remove adhesions also pressing in on my spinal cord from the first four spine surgeries.  As you know I had to learn how to walk again twice following surgeries.

During the 1980's I had four myelograms.  This is a diagnostic procedure used by my neurosurgeons and orthopaedic surgeons together.  An oil based dye was injected directly into my spinal cord as I lay on a movable X-ray table.  No sedation could be used as my team needed me alert.  The table was then moved so the dye could be moved and viewed within my spinal cord, so my team could have a better understanding of how bad the worse things were and where.

The plan was to then extract the dye from my spinal cord, only when this was attempted, my arms and legs

violently went out of control thrashing about.  Again and again.  This was dangerous and absolutely terrifying, 

for me and my teams.  So the dye had to be left in.

The problem with this is I had FOUR myelograms during the 1980's...two of them from my neck to L-5, the whole length of my spinal cord.  The dye in its entirety had to be left inside all four times.  A massive amount.

By the late 1980's it was discovered the oil in the dye was causing horrific problems within spinal cords.  Even the majority of cases where the dye could be extracted (since then, the dye is no longer oil based).

Within our spinal cords we have what are known as arachnoids...these are the network of nerves which resemble spider webs, hence the name.  The oil severely inflames these.  Thus making my case more dire since so much inflammation was already happening within my spinal cord from my dwarfism and the trauma of seven spine surgeries.  For this was then met with the massive amount of oil where it was best described by my Johns-Hopkins neurosurgeon as being an atom bomb detonated within my spinal cord unleashing a very powerful destructive inflammation explosion ever moving upwards causing shutdown. 

This not only causes excruciating pain that never ends but the worsening nerve damage to my legs, urinary and digestive tracts.  There is nothing that can be done to stop the progression.  In recent years I had to begin using a walker which I must use when I leave home.  I cannot stand long and fall down a lot.  It's hard to believe how I spent decades galloping on all my horses bareback now.

Because my bladder and colon are severely failing I also live with the infections and intense nausea as touched on already.

I am beginning to have shortness of breath.  The severe inflammation will next begin affecting my respiratory system.  My doctors and I have long known this would

all eventually happen when I was handed this at the age of thirty-four.  They did however expect me to be where I am now, or worse, twenty years earlier than this so my being as physically active as I have been besides my indomitable spirit has given me far more time.  Perhaps so I could finally begin putting into writing here what I was either speaking about or telling funny stories about as I promised many I would do someday.🐎💫

Some would feel cheated but I always focus on my glass as being full and never empty...for my glass has been and still remains full.  I have been blessed to do a thousand things many non height challenged people have never done or experienced.

My dear ones, now you may understand why I have kept my inflammation disease within my spinal cord as just that, because it involves so much more.

So for today I have now opened the window on this.

Know I remain very blessed.  My challenging amazing galloping journey bringing me here is why.  

And sharing it with you.

How grateful I am for each of you.🐎💫

To Open A Window...

[My Dear Twitter Readers, when I began this blog I made the decision to write only about my very full journey and not where my deteriorating health has brought me to now.  I have always been far more at ease being the pied piper rather than going in depth about where my health has brought me.  Several months ago though I opened a rare window going in depth where I am and what days are like being in my body because I have touched on the dire prognosis given to me at age thirty-four where my body was taking me.  As I have many new blog readers since I posted these two pieces I am reposting these.  Not to bring sadness but to hopefully convey my resiliency and continued courage to inspire.  Because it takes fire to make a diamond.  And darkness to make a star shine bright.  So I open My Window.]

My dear ones, there is a huge reason why I do not write about my current day to day life in detail.  For one thing it cannot change and I think it would not only be very BORING but probably would make you sad.  Since this blog and my life have always been about living my life on the bright side this is the place where I strive to bring you.  For you see my journey is not defined so much by where I am now but by the many amazing ways I arrived here.

For the second time only I shall open the window and share with you what my days are really like at this time of my journey. 

First, since I must take forty-nine pills a day I spend a great deal of time shoving medication into my mouth while gulping down large amounts of water.  Most are trying to keep both my digestive and urinary tracts functioning.  Or for acid reflux.  And the never ending nausea and pain. 

If I get three or four hours of sleep each night I am lucky due to the never-ending pain.  I had been on a potent med for twenty-nine years that helped tremendously but thanks to the opiate crisis pain doctors are not allowed to continue writing scripts for it.  On my own I had no choice but to withdraw from it.  Trust me, this made my doctors furious and they made every effort to get a waiver for me but were denied.  So though I am on a strong pain med I am grateful to be on it gives far less relief than the former. 

My bladder has not been fully functional since 1980.  To keep it working I must drink large quantities of a water/Gatorade/caffeine combination 24/7.  So I am also up during the night emptying my bladder.  Only mine does not empty in the normal sense.  It takes a good half-hour to an hour to empty.  We must limit my catheter use due to infection and other problems, so these are a last resort.

With my barely functioning colon I must take a new very expensive jump-start med I must inject myself with for emergencies.  Finally it now is also available in pill form thankfully because I am limited on where I can reach to inject myself so my thighs and abdomen can get in terrible shape!🥴

However don't be deceived by "jump-start," for after I take the med it is an hour or longer before I head to the bathroom.  From there it takes an additional two to three hours for my colon to become empty.  

So between my bladder and colon I spend a great part of my day in the john where I keep books and my assorted horse, theatre, and art magazines.  Besides also working on this blog at times or playing Solitaire using my Smartphone.  Or being on Twitter.🙃

The colon process is very exhausting and far from being as easy as it may sound here.  At times it is VERY uncomfortable and very painful with severe cramping.

Back to my pain.  As I do not have cartilage in my body bone is rubbing on bone.  My orthopaedic surgeon cannot figure out how I am still walking as my knees and legs are a mess as well as my spine.  Nerve damage from the inflammation disease within my spinal cord has weakened my legs considerably too, also causing pain.  Since I have the same muscle mass as an average height person on my short long bones, there is a lot of pain with this too.  

Throughout the day I must lie down as this is the only way I can get relief for awhile.  So I am in bed often.  I work on this blog there too if the nausea isn't intense and I am able to focus.😃

My laptop is in my living room and I spend an hour or two there each day as well.

As far as eating I am only allowed to eat one meal a day consisting of soft foods like mashed potatoes, soups, canned peaches, cooked cereals, etc.  And I must drink two to three Boost Protein Drinks each day.  Eventually, they may have to surgically insert a port and liquid nourishment will enter my system through it.

In-between all that I care for, and spend time with my three feral cats, who are always close.  Since I live in the country there is wilderness for Harper, Sweet Cheeks, and Rory to enjoy, as well as my view of endless hills, trees, and horse farms in the distance I forever gaze upon.😃

And this my dear ones, is what my days are and why I do not write about them.  Thankfully I have lived such a full life even with the many hospitalizations, enabling me to have such a wealth TO write about and share here.  For this, I am grateful beyond words.  Many with and without challenges do not often have such full lives, so I consider myself as being blessed...oh, so very VERY blessed.🐎😃🐎💕💫

A Very Unexpected Moment Of Theatre Magic...

Thankfully THIS theatre moment was one that did NOT unfold before an audience, but during Dress Rehearsal.  For those who may be unfamiliar with theatre lingo, Dress Rehearsal is when the actors wear their actual costumes or clothing for a play for the final rehearsal before Opening Night.

This particular play, "Calvalcade" by Noel Coward was about a very loving couple over a period of time who weathered changes in the world around them including losses.  The two main leads acting in this production, Martina and Simon were actually married to each other.

The rehearsals leading up to Dress Rehearsal went quite well.  However a storm was forming below the surface.  It appeared the young actress playing the lady in love with the "Calvalcade" couple's son, apparently was brazenly being flirtatious with Simon.  Martina, well aware of this didn't appear to be concerned.  At least on the surface.  

Yet there is this very surreal calm where NOTHING stirs just before a tornado wipes a town off the map too!

When Simon and Martina arrived on Dress Rehearsal night, not only were they obviously fighting, they had been drinking!  Not good, not good.😱

So it would be an understatement to say that Dan the play Director suddenly became about as nervous as a cat with a long tail in a room full of rocking chairs.🤣

Act I came off well considering everything.

Then...came...Act...II.  When Miss Flirtatious enters.

Now I happened to be in the Scene Shop painting a set for a play the following season.  Way back there I usually couldn't hear what was happening on stage.  But I sure did hear a huge crash!  MY first thought was the unthinkable happened:  that part of my set failed somehow, so I went flying to Stage Right.😱  

I arrived just in time to see Martina hurl a large vase prop at Simon which shattered to pieces as she yelled, "Simon, you son of a b***h!"

"Marty I wasn't being flirtatious back," said Simon, as he dodged a large book.

"I saw you wink at her!"

"I wasn't winking at her!"

"Like hell!"

"Calvalcade" had clearly just descended into "Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?" here.😂

"Marty, do you REALLY think I could fall for HER?!!"

Oh my, Simon was in for it now because this is when Miss Flirtatious suddenly came out from under the desk she was cowering beneath grabbing a whiskey bottle prop on her way.  As she hurled it at Simon he ducked and the bottle shattered my multiple glass window panes I had painstakingly put in for each of the large windows.😱

At this point Marty turned on Miss Flirtatious.  

"How DARE you!"  As she hurled the coffee table at her and missed, but took out MORE of my windows besides breaking a leg on the coffee table!🥴

"STOP!  ALL THREE OF YOU SIT DOWN NOW!"  

If you're wondering WHO said this, I can assure you it was not Dan the Director cowering behind the seats in Row F, nor was it the Stage Manager hiding behind the curtains, or Props, or the Executive Director and Artistic Director both hiding in the wings. 

It...was...ME...standing to my 4'3" full height.💥  

You see when Adelaide's theatre set gets destroyed the night before Opening Night she becomes a force to be reckoned with!!!😂

All three promptly seated themselves on the couch together when I ordered them to sit down NOW, even appearing to tremble a bit in fear as I stood before them.

"Simon, apologize to Miss Flirtat...I mean, Denise!"

"But I didn't..."

"I don't give a shit.  Apologize."

"Marty, you apologize to Simon and Denise."

"But Adelaide, I...uh...uh...okaaay, I'll apologize."

"Denise, it's your turn."

"Yes mam!  I'm apologizing!"

"Okay all three of you are setting aside your differences NOW.  You have a show to do tomorrow and you're going to do it well and you're going to be sober doing it.  Right now you're going to finish Dress Rehearsal while I repair the windows and coffee table you broke.  If you're done rehearsing before I get done you're going to help me finish.  Got it?"

They eagerly nodded in unison.

Simon then announced he had a confession.

"Now?"

"Yes Adelaide please, because I'm not afraid saying this as long as you are here to protect me."🙄

"Marty honey I was winking at Dan not Denise.  I've been too afraid to come out.  No more.  I'm gay Marty.  Dan and I are in love.  This doesn't mean I won't continue to love you...it just means things will be different.  We will be happier.  Please, I need to know my sweet angel if you will support me in this."

At first she was silent.  For an eternity. 

"Simon honey, I think deep down inside I've always known this.  We haven't been happy or fulfilled for years, you know?  I really want you to be happy, I sincerely do.  I will be happy too.  I believe this change will be good for us both.  And you know what else?  I'm very proud of you!"💖

"I am too Simon." I said.

After everyone felt it was safe enough to venture out of their hiding places we gave them a rousing round of applause as tears filled our eyes because we were all profoundly touched by what just happened. 

Then everyone suddenly turned toward me and gave 

me a standing ovation.  Even now all these years later my eyes are filled with heartwarming tears by what happened on stage that night.  

It was powerful.  It was shared.  And oh, was it 

ever magic.🎭💫

SQUIGGEE SQUIGGEE SQUISH SQUISH...

At the end of this blog is again the newspaper photo of Patches and I to show what I was wearing when the somewhat hilarious event here unfolded one day, which could only happen to your Adelaide.

I share this photo because I am dressed as usual in my unique style using ballet attire I have had a penchant for, besides the fact for me at least, ballet pieces never need hemming.  The exact piece in the photo is very important because it was on me when this event unfolded.  The only difference is I was wearing a lovely black turtleneck top under the piece you see, with unique purple, yellow, and red flowers because it was winter.  And black leotards.  But I was wearing something else too which also very significantly contributed to this event.

After I fed Patches before the sun arose that morning as I did every morning, I drove the forty-two miles to the performing arts center I worked for.  I wore my trusty black rubber boots in the shape of cowboy boots until I could then change into other shoes.

On this particular day at the arts center there happened to be HUGE meetings of not only our Board Members but our Investors.  So obviously our Executive Director wanted EVERYTHING to be perfect.  Especially because on THIS day the Board Members and Investors wanted to be given backstage tours so they could meet the usually unseen staff who help make all the "magic" happen.

When I arrived at the arts center that morning I made a horrifying discovery.  You see in the dark while Patches ate I dressed for this huge day ahead except for the shoes.  A routine I did quite often very successfully.  Only on THIS day the bag containing my dress shoes was still sitting under the tree because I needed to move them for a moment to reach the feed bucket!

Staff members assured me the adorable rubber boots actually complimented my dress after I cleaned all the mud off.  They also believed I may have begun a new fashion trend.  The only problem however with these rubber boots as we discovered is they were not quiet, which was something I had never noticed before.  For you see my little black rubber boots had many decibels of loudness as I walked which went as follows and I am NOT kidding:  

SQUIGGEE SQUIGGEE SQUISH SQUISH

In fact our sound guy was VERY insistent on wanting to record the sound for a special project he was working on, that is after the Board Members and Investors had gone of course.  Though at the moment I didn't quite share his same enthusiasm.  

We also soon discovered my SQUIGGEE SQUIGGEE SQUISH SQUISH increased in intensity when I used the restroom, for after exiting I found my fellow loyal staff members were all outside the door rolling on the floor 

in hysterical laughter. 

I had no choice but to plunge forth and hope I may not need to use the restroom again or have to move around much which would be all but impossible given the fact

I was scheduled to give the Board Members and Investors a grand tour of the Scene Shop with a crash course in how a Scene Designer designs!  Including my SQUIGGEE SQUIGGEE SQUISH SQUISH sound effects!

Aside from this the Board Members and Investors had another reason why they were ESPECIALLY keen to meet me for recently I had been featured in a art magazine in a long piece focusing on my art, Scene Design work, my indomitable spirit, and my horses.

  

Indirectly this piece brought a massive wave of positive attention to the arts center because it's Scene Designer was viewed as not only being female but physically challenged too, yet they hired me.  Obviously I was very grateful they did as I wasn't their only candidate.  I was actually chosen by the arts center because I came with not only being quite capable but respected and talented for the job.  In other words I had already proven myself in my profession.🎭

Anyway there was no way Adelaide could keep silent the SQUIGGEE SQUIGGEE SQUISH SQUISH.

Late morning here they all came with Martin, our Executive Director.  I plunged right in explaining what happened and why I was wearing my fancy boots with the loud sound effects, demonstrating this fact for them first so we could get on with the more important things.  After the group could all finally quit laughing they first had a far more pressing question to ask me,  "How DO you get ON your horse?!!"  [I am asked this SO much if I ever write a book THAT will be the title.😂]

Then I walked them all through the role the Scene Designer plays from the moment a play, ballet, opera or musical theatre production has been decided upon.  We eventually moved from the Scene Shop to the stage itself so I could wrap up explaining my work and our Lighting Designer Neil could take over explaining his work.

Then the unexpected happened, for at times the stage can be dangerous.  Some of us more seasoned to certain sounds know when to react.  

The only thing Martin, our Executive Director said he remembered hearing is, "Adelaide's rapid SQUIGGEE SQUIGGEE SQUISH SQUISH before she shoved me out of harm's way from a falling stage lamp!  It just missed us both but made a huge gash in her leg!"

The gash nearly five inches long required stitches after Martin and I both were rushed to the ER by ambulance.  He sustained a large hematoma on his forehead when his head connected with the stage due to the force of my powerful shove knocking him over.

Had I not been wearing those SQUIGGEE SQUIGGEE SQUISH SQUISH rubber boots of mine but been in my dressy shoes with slick soles and heels I never could have shoved Martin and myself both out of the way in time.  So there was a reason those shoes remained beneath the grove of trees that morning.

Now each time I notice the long scar forever there I cannot help but hear in my memory that SQUIGGEE SQUIGGEE SQUISH SQUISH...😂💫