Up in the Air

Gerry's Corner: Sorry to be posting less regularly than I'd like, but I've been really busy. First off, I had to sit through the interminable satellite feed of The Tempest, being put on by the Royal Shakespeare Company who apparently, like Bugs Bunny, should have taken that right back at Albuquerque because they got lost and wound up in Ann Arbor. Let me say this: there are people who think Shakespeare should be performed like it was years ago. I like Shakespeare like Emerson or Thoreau or one of them liked life: nasty, brutish, and short. Also, I prefer it to be in language I understand. Now, the Royal Shakespeare Company was all about gimmicks, because they set the play somewhere in the Arctic or the Klondike or your grocer's freezer, and then they brought in acting hack Patrick Stewart to play the lead. I mean, why would you trust the guy from Hennessy to pilot your theatrical ship?



Honestly.

To top it all off, the man took off his shirt several times during the first act. I'm not sure, but I think I could make out puking sounds coming from the audience. And why not? Patrick Stewart is 66 years old. I know that, when I was 66, my secretary wasn't exactly leaving me stacks of messages from modeling agencies interested in using my bare chest to sell their products. And I was available, too - when I was 66, I had just left the presidency.

Anyway - I was repulsed and confused by the play. I hope the Royal Shakespeare Company goes back to Mediocre Britain soon and leaves my alma mater to focus on its very important upcoming date against the Buckeyes.

So, on top of the eight hour play, my doctor decided I needed to take thirty-five pills every day, so there's the two hours that that takes every morning and the two hours before that where Not-Betty tries to convince me to lay off the drugs, wherein I try to explain that they were prescribed to me, she counters that if I were strong I wouldn't bow to peer pressure; then, she flushes all the pills down the toilet and goes off to the clinic, after which I call up the pharmacy and have my medications refilled. Then, there's a few hours of practicing my golf swing in my mind, and then the rest of my day, I watch the Ford School webcam to make sure that the building's still standing and that I didn't imagine its construction. Plus, I'm juggling a lot of things now. That's right - I've picked up juggling in my old age. Tennis balls, empty bottles of booze, steak knives, pins. You name it, I juggle it. Frankly, it's left me less time than I'd like, but maybe it's giving me more time, too, as in 'lengthening my life.' Yup, juggling. I recommend it.

Also, happy birthday to me! I've decided to turn 95 today, even though my birthday's in July. You know why? Because I read coverage in a local rag of a woman 'celebrating' her 100th year:



Look how terrified she is! I don't want to be like that by the time I'm 100, so I'm speeding up the process by having early birthdays. I'm hoping to turn 96 by mid-December, if we can clear my pretty-full calendar.

There is no Soviet domination in Eastern Europe,
Gerry