"Once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about." - Haruki Murakami. KAFKA ON THE SHORE
Walked into first day of writing class today, and what to my wondering eyes did appear, but some great peeps from last class AND some old friends - Brigette, Pat, and Connie (who, among other fabulous roles, played Patty Mayonnaise in DOUG). "Patty!" I squealed. I sat next to Brigette and Pat and across from Connie (which made it possible to stick my tongue out at her). The only thing to make it more perfect would have been if Victor had been there (he'll be there next week); and Grace (she will not be there next week because she's busy exploring her awesomeness at NYU). Was a great first day!
President Obama and most of Congress - including ALL NY representatives - has permanently lost my confidence and my vote. Sixth Amendment? Oh, no, we don't need that. 'I promise never to use this power I am now taking for myself....' Yeah, how many times have those infamous words been spoken by a rising despot. NDAA must be smashed. This is almost unbelievable.
by Jason Merrell and True Michael Memmott
Here is the Christmas Puppet play my nephew, True, and I wrote and performed together, along with my sister, Deni, and nephew, Merrell.
"I want to write a play where all the animals have some sort of miscommunication but at the end they all come together and have a party and dance." This was True's concept.
"Okay," I said. "So let's follow that through. What puppets do we have and who is playing them?"
"I'm going to be the elephant. Merrell wants to be the Gorilla. The other puppets still open are the frog and the penguin."
"Okay, I'll be frog and penguin." I picked up the frog and put him on my left hand and picked up the penguin and put him on my right. I noticed immediately that frog had a long, dangly tongue and a fly permanently attached to the end of it. "Frog must have trouble speaking clearly with a fly on his tongue."
"Hello." I started spitting with my tongue permanently out. "Thith is fwag. I'm twying to tew you sohthig but thews a fwy on my wip."
"How about this. Penguin is throwing a Christmas party and he's very stressed about it."
"Hello everyone, I'm penguin and I'm throwing a Christmas party and I'm stressed." Penguin has a deep, raspy voice but he likes to giggle too.
"Hewwo. I'm fwag and I'm penguin's good friend and I wiww hewp him thwow the pawty."
Thus began Penguin's Christmas Party or As You Lick it...
INT. PENGUIN'S HOUSE - DAY
PENGUIN and FROG stand together in Penguin's living room.
PENGUIN
Hello everyone. I'm Penguin. I'm
throwing a Christmas party and
inviting all my friends and I'm so
stressed! I need to get everything
just right and there's so much to
do.
FROG
Hewwo Penguin.
PENGUIN
Hello Frog. I'm throwing a
Christmas party this year and I'm
so very stressed. Will you help me
get everything done?
FROG
Yeth of courth. I'd luthe to helt
you lith yow pawty.
PENGUIN
Good, well, some friends will be
coming over to get their party
assignments. Elephant will be
arriving first. Will you please
tell elephant that I'd like it very
much if he would trim the tree.
Got that? He needs to trip the
tree.
FROG
Yeth. He needs to twim the twee.
PENGUIN
Um... yes. Please do tell him to
trim the tree and bring it to the
party. I need to rush and there's
so much to do.
FROG
Okay, I on it.
EXIT Penguin.
FROG (CONT'D)
(to himself)
Twim da twee, twimm da twee.
Muthst wemembaw twim da twee
Enter Elephant
ELEPHANT
Hello Frog. Where's Penguin?
FROG
He'th pwepawing da pawty and he'th
thow thwethed. He wud wike you
thoo twim da twee.
ELEPHANT
What?
FROG
He would wike you to twim da twee
twim da twee. Now huwwy. Go on
now and twim da twee!
ELEPHANT
Oh, okay then. I'm off. See you
soon.
(aside as he leaves)
He wants me to...hmmm. Oh yes he
wants me to flip the flees! Yes.
Flip the flees. I do love flipping
flees.
INT. ELEPHANTS HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER
Elephant grabs a large spatula whose flat is painted in
circular candy cane stripes. He beings flipping his flees.
ELEPHANT
Weee! Flip those flees! I do love
flipping you, you flees. Are you
good and flipped?
(puts them into his
favorite black, flipped
flees box)
INT. PENGUIN'S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER
Penguin is standing in the living room entertaining himself.
Penguin enters.
PENGUIN
Okay, okay.
(huffing a bit)
Did you tell elephant to trim the
tree?
FROG
Oh yeth. He'th gonna twim da twee
and con to da pawty.
PENGUIN
Oh good. Thank you. That is such a
relief. Now, Gorilla is coming by
and I'd like you to ask him to ice
the cake. Will you do that? Ask
him to ice the cake.
FROG
Okay. I'w teww hin to ithe da kek.
PENGUIN
Oh good because I need to prepare
for this party and I'm so so
stressed!
Penguin exits and Frog continues humming to himself. Enter
Gorilla.
GORILLA
Hello Frog.
FROG
Hewwo Gowiwwa. How awe you tothay?
GORILLA
I'm... swell. Where is Penguin?
FROG
Oh, he'th pwepawing foh da pawty
and he'th tho tho swethed. He
would wike you to ithe da kek.
GORILLA
What? He would wike what?
FROG
Da kek. Da kek. He would wike you
to ithe da kek. Now he'th therry
thwethed and he needs you to ithe
da kek. Pleeth go ithe da kek.
GORILLA
Okay, okay. I'm off. See you at
the party
FROG
Duh dye.
GORILLA
(as he is walking)
So he wants me to... what? Ah,
price the plank! I do have a
fantastic plank. It's painted with
zebra stripes and everything and
it's even slappy! You can slap it
around anything and it will bend.
I'll get me that plank and take it
to monkey at the bank. He'll know
how to price that plank.
INT. BANK - MOMENTS LATER
Gorilla enters where Monkey waits at the bank.
GORILLA
Hello Monkey.
MONKEY
Hello Groilla. How may I help you
today?
GORILLA
Well, Penguin is having a Christmas
party and he wants me to price the
plank. Will you price this plank
for me?
MONKEY
But of course, Gorilla. Nothing I
like better than pricing a good
plank and my that is a good plank.
(stamps it with a sticky
price tag)
Happy Christmas, Gorilla. Your
plank is now priced.
GORILLA
Why thank you, Monkey. That'll do
fine.
INT. PENGUIN'S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER
Frog is still in the living room humming. Penguin enters
again.
PENGUIN
Oh, this party is going to be grand
but I'm so so stressed.
Okay, frog, now lion is coming over
and I would like you to ask him to
mix the punch. Will you please ask
Lion to mix the punch?
FROG
But uth cuthe, Penguin. I would
luth to athk hin to lix da dunce.
PENGUIN
Mmm. Good. That will be
wonderful. I'm so so stressed.
Penguin exists and Frog continues humming. Enter Lion.
LION
Hello Frog.
FROG
Hwwo Lion. How awh you tothay?
LION
I'm fantastic. Where is penguin?
FROG
He'th pwepawing foh da pawty and
he'th tho thwethed. He would wike
you to lix da dunce.
LION
He would? He would wike me to...?
FROG
Lix da dunce. Lix da dunce. He'th
tho thwethed and he wanth you to
lix da dunce. Now go lix da dunce.
LION
Alrighty then.
INT. LION'S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER
LION
Penguin wants me to.... Hmmm. He
wants to lick the lunch! Oh, that
is a fine idea. I usaully have
such a lovely bit of Gazelle but
for Christmas this year I have this
delicious pink sprinkles doughnut.
I would be more than happy to lick
that lunch.
(pulls out his giant pink
doughnut and begins
licking it with vigor)
INT. PENGUIN'S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER
Frog is still singing in the living room and Penguin enters
again.
PENGUIN
So so so. Oh oh oh. How stressed
i have been but now have have
everything in hand and all will be
just perfect for this, my Christmas
party. Frog, thank you so very
much for helping me. The guests
should be arriving at any moment.
Will you help me push this planter
into the center for the tree?
FROG
But uth cowth, Penguin.
Enter Elephant.
ELEPHANT
Hello, Penguin. Hello Frog. I'm
so happy to be at your party.
PENGUIN
Welcome, Elephant. Did you trim
the tree? We can put it in this
planter.
ELEPHANT
I brought my favorite black box
full of flipped flees. I flipped
the flees just like you asked. Oh
yes, those flees are good good and
flipped.
PENGUIN
Flip the flees?! What?
ELEPHANT
Oh yes. And I also brought my
favorite spatula just in case you
thought those flees might need just
one more flip.
PENGUIN
What?
ELEPHANT
Oh yes. I flipped those flees
good.
PENGUIN
(panicking and panting)
Okay, okay. So let's see what
you've got. Oh, Elephant. These
aren't flees. These are Christmas
lightening bugs. But they do look
good and flipped, yes. Bring them
here with me and let's see what we
can do.
Both exit together with the box and flees and Elephant's
spatula. Frog continues humming. Enter Monkey and Gorilla.
FROG
Hewwo Gowiwwa. Hewwo Montee.
GORILLA
Hello Frog
MONKEY
Hello Frog. Happy Christmas.
Enter Elephant and Penguin. The have decorated the spatula
with the sparkly, jewel-like Christmas tree bugs and both
plant it in the planter together.
PENGUIN
Hello Monkey. Hello Gorilla.
Welcome to the party. We've been
making some adjustments. Look at
this lovely flipped flee tree we've
constructed.
Lots of oohs and aahs.
PENGUIN (CONT'D)
So, did you ice the cake?
GORILLA
I price my favorite plank. See,
I've priced the plank just as you
asked; with monkey's help, of
course.
MONKEY
Oh, yes. That plank is good and
priced. It is a lovely plank.
PENGUIN
Priced the plank?! What? How?
What?
GORILLA
Isn't it lovely. It has zebra
sripes and everything.
PENGUIN
Oh my goodness. Oh.... Well,
let's take a look at it. Oh yes it
is a lovely plank. Bring it here
and let's see what we can do.
GORILLA
If you slap it, it will bend and
fit around everything. It is a
very flexible plank.
PENGUIN
Hmmm.
(Penguin takes the plank
and slaps it around the
bottom of the Flipped
Flee planter)
Well, would you look at that. What
a lovely Christmas Flee skirt that
makes, Gorilla.
GORILLA
Oh yes, it really is a great plank.
PENGUIN
Indeed.
Enter Lion
LION
Oh, hello Penguin! I'm so happy to
be here at this your Christmas
party... Hello Elephant. Hello
Frog. Hello Monkey and Gorilla.
I've brought my lunch and it's good
and licked.
PENGUIN
Welcome Lion. Did you mix the
punch?
LION
I licked the lunch just as you
asked. It's a good good lunch and
it's good good and licked.
PENGUIN
Licked the.... What?
LION
Oh yes, and here it is. It's my
favorite pink sprinkles Christmas
doughnut lunch and believe you me,
it's good and licked.
PENGUIN
I can see that. Oh oh oh... Okay.
Bring here that licked lunch.
Well, everyone. How stressed I was
about preparing Christmas. And
frog. Oh frog. How glad I am that
all of you could come to my party.
Look how much we've done with what
we've got. We have Elephant's
Christmas Flee Tree and a zebra
striped plank skirt.
Everyone oohs and aahs.
PENGUIN (CONT'D)
And now, with your permission,
LIon, I think we should all lick
the lunch. And then dance!
LION
Oh yes, certainly. Let's all lick
that lunch.
All gather around and lick lick lick that lunch. Then they
dance around.
The End.
It may sound a little silly but it's loads of fun to perform.
There's room for lots of improv and everyone has fun in the end, too.
Happy New Year, everyone!
"Seek not to declare my word, but first seek to obtain my word, and then shall your tongue be loosed; then, if you desire, you shall have my spirit and my word, yea, the power of God unto the convincing of men." -D&C 10:21
Let me get this on the record right now before all the awards start coming and the banter gets buzzing. Meryl Streep WILL win the Oscar for IRON LADY. I'm basing this on nothing more than intuition.
I haven't seen the movie. I have seen the trailer and it looks like it could be a terrible film or really great. I'm not usually thrilled when she plays political roles but I stand by my prediction.
She will win.
I'll be happy and count it as a belated win for JULIE & JULIA and countless others in between.
There's soot on your nose from the times you said
Yes
There's hype in your house from the curls and the
Swagger
I heap the hurrays onto my own cup and
Forget
To check.
"The song is over isn't it." You say this and pull
a tissue from your
Pocket.
To nights of singing and refregerator
Jokes. And Jigs.
I speak this don't I? I think I speak this now.
"Love envies itself sometimes."
This I do say and drop the ring to the
Floor
Then close the door.
So yesterday marked the end of a ten-year public singing silence for me. The last time was just over ten years ago at my father's funeral. My offering wasn't Fritz Wunderlich (yet) but I was happy enough with it. As were others.
My friend, Scott, came up to me afterwards and said, "I had no idea. No idea you could sing like that."
For me, the best post-singing advice came from my good friend, Kristin - a woman who has one of the most gorgeous lyric soprano voices I've ever heard. Without batting an eye, she said, "Jason, you have a beautiful and powerful instrument in that voice of yours. I still want to hear more 'testicular fortitude!' Do you hear that?"
Ha! Yes, Kristin. Yes I do.
So here's to that. Three cheers to testicular fortitude! Not the kind that uses a femur bone to crush a foe. But the kind that delights, dances, and fills the room with a voice of one's own.
I sometimes forget the surprise joy writing brings. I forget and begin to doubt every single word I've ever presumed to write or even think. I feel the same about singing. I want to hide in my room under the covers and dream about writing or singing or other pleasures.
"That's why they invented rush-writing." My fictional character, ML, says this. She smiles her wickedly knowing smile.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with rush-writing, let me introduce you. First, pick a topic. Could be the color blue, terminal cancer, mockingbirds, reading Housman by the boathouse at Central Park, eating caramels, swimming parallel to a strand of beach, doing push-ups on the roof, passing notes in church. Anything that strikes your fancy. Then take out a timer and set it. Usually it's good to start small - say ten minutes. You can work your way up to longer time periods after that. Once you start the clock you also start writing and you don't stop. No backspacing; no pausing. If you can't think of what to say, just write 'blah blah blah I can think of what to say this typing thing is completely ridiculous and I want to order eleven different cakes right now. Or maybe I'd like to have a cup of tea and then walk down the street with one shoe on. Then maybe I'll sit down near the lake which is close to the boathouse and I'll start typing about the train ride to Queens or the row of mason jars behind the counter here in the shop or the kind of soup they're serving tonight or maybe the time I won my town the race blah blah blah what the cluck am I talking about I can't seem to stay on topic I'm supposed to be writing about chickens right now...." That sort of thing. Just go and don't stop going until you hear that little buzz of the timer you've set. That's rush-writing.
"Here where I find that I've wasted my time, hopin' to fly 'cause it's almost over now." Alison Krauss sings in the background. "People come together people go their own way. Love conquers few.... How many days should I smile with a frown 'cause you're not around with the sun on your shoulder..."
I rush-write from the Starbucks on 145th and Bradhurst, across the street from the condo I used to live in. Lots of images and memories come back to this space. I come back to this space now. One of my characters, a writing teacher my protagonist calls "ML" has instructed the class to do a fifteen minute rush-write. The subject is "Falling."
I write from the point of view of my protagonist and about a converstion he had with ML once.
"If I found myself actually falling, I hope I would come to a quick and bold recognition of the situation. 'I'm falling now. I'll soon not be. No more time except right this second.' I'd find some hidden huxpa and then joy, rage, scream, beat my chest to sky or the gound - the one rising fast to take me in. I am here. Here I am!"
Would I take out my iPhone and call someone? Would that someone answer? Would I even get a signal? I'm assuming I've fallen from somewhere sexy like off a tall tall cliff or from an airplane. You know, maybe two or even three minutes of free-fall. What would that someone say if I got him or her on the other end?
"You'd probably go into shock and die of heart failure before you got to the ground." This is ML's answer to my romantic notions.
I rush-write on and on like this for fifteen minutes. It's the last fifteen minutes before Starbucks closes.
"Excuse me, you there in the corner. We're closing."
"Yeah. I'm just saving this then I'm out."
This is when Alison Krauss starts singing her Paper Airplane balad. "No choice I fear. Love is hard to measure, hidden in the rain..." She's still singing as I exit Starbucks.
Recently I read a blog post from a real-life writing teacher who was mourning a building that was closed. This building held countless important memories for her; some included her dad. She said that its closure made her feel like her dad was dying all over again.
How well-put.
My sister said the same thing a few months ago at our uncle's funeral. "When will I be able to go to a funeral and not feel like it's dad's?"
I don't think she wants to know the answer to that question.
The writing teacher wrote with hope. "I'm still here," she said.
My mother said that same thing yesterday while we talked over the phone about my Aunt Robyn, who just passed away. "There is still life to be lived," said my mom. I chuckled with that light but sad feeling of letting go.
"The dead will have to bury themselves this time," I said. "I'm not sure I can afford to come to the funeral." Cliche I know, but it feels like I'm dealing with too many deaths at one time. And there seems to be no end in sight. I got on the phone to discuss one aunt - my mother's sister - who died two days ago, only to discover that another aunt - my father's sister - is in the hospital and not doing well at all.
I'm with the writing teacher and my mom, who say "I'm still here. I have memories of extraordinary people and experiences to treasure."
I like that. All true.
But here's my question. What if that extraordinary person or persons, wants to brush it all under the rug and pretend, for the sake of those who hold power over him or her now - what if they want to pretend none of it ever happened? In fact, what if this person or persons wants to participate in the demolition of that memory space and then walk away with their back to you? And they don't want you to talk about it either or remember the truth of it. What happens then? What happens when you're under that kind of gag order? Not a direct one - a passive one. 'Don't tell. It's too difficult to tell it. Keep your tongue and all will be well with you.'
For me, writing is one way through. I can rush-write my own boldness, my will to see and protect those memories. Not at the expense of now. No, I don't mean that at all. I mean to see, even if inconvenient or somewhat painful, the truth of those past extraordinary people and events with as much detail and mercy and kindness as I can muster. Myself included. And anger too. Anger can sometimes fire up the moment and allow me to build boundaries that may be necessary for now. A sword of flame and that sort of thing...
I vow not live under a gag order. I realize it takes restraint and kindness and a fierce resolve to do this. I also vow to do my best to protect your choice if you choose or feel you must live under your particular brand of gag order.
Life is too short. We fail to speak and then the moment passes us by. That's the real heartbreak.
The ground is rising from this particular paper airplane fall.
My dear friend, Allison, posted this on her fb wall. So... being the Allred-Facebook stalker that I am, I had to watch. Beautifully done. The animations are great and so is the message. There is little I feel that I KNOW in this life and having a fire burn within me that the Book of Mormon is true has not been easy, nor is it to this day, to reconcile with the other forces that tug at me. The thing about the Book of Mormon (or the 'BoM' as my friend, JP, likes to say...) is that the feelings it brings me are ones of peace. I have not always listened to that peaceful feeling when making choices but what I can say, without reservation, is that any empathy and understanding and wisdom I have gleaned from reading and praying about the Book of Mormon has been foundational for me in recognizing the other peaceful and joyful aspects to be found in life.
“I’m stumped,” says the cat to its prey
I can perch here and look you straight
I can see you move your wiggle nose
But I can’t see my own whiskers
I can feel them as I move along the hall
To pounce the door stop
I can put my head against you and they bend
I can’t see them whisper
I can’t taste them whisker
I shall pluck them out and have a look
The little mouse moves its nose up and down
yowling ensues
To cheese and soda up
On the stoop