Sick Again.



Marveling this morning at my grandson Daniel‘s convincing performance as a REALLY messed-up teenager in his latest play, this time at the Tybee Arts Association Black Box Theater on Tybee Island near Savannah.

The play: Marvin’s Room.
Daniel’s character: Seventeen year-old Hank. (D is also seventeen.)
Here’s what Google’s AI says about Hank:

Whew!
Hank, onstage, with his psychiatrist on the right and his emotionally distant mother on the left:

As a grandfather, it was actually (and probably foolishly) somewhat difficult to see the normally exuberantly positive and usually smiling Daniel portraying such a severely damaged young man. (Hank doesn’t smile very much in the play.)
For a moment, I forgot what actors actually do. Act.
Daniel’s now been in over thirty plays, and his specialty seems to be the romantic lead in musical theatre (Prince Topher in Cinderella, Marius in Les Mis), Raoul in Phantom of the Opera.)
Sitting in the audience for Marvin’s Room, I kept having a bit of conflict between watching that mentally challenged CHARACTER I just met and denying to myself that the young ACTOR I knew so well could have ANY of Hank’s negative qualities.
But, uh oh. Maybe we haven’t burned down a house, but haven’t we all pushed a button or two to provoke a reaction from someone else?
Haven’t we all occasionally struggled to express our emotions openly?
Haven’t we all used sarcasm?
And haven’t we all felt (or acted) a little … crazy from time to time?!

The play ends (thankfully) on a positive note with Hank seemingly on his way to a better life.
And here’s Hank — I mean Daniel (!) — smiling his usual smile with HR and me after the performance.

Chatting and joking about his crazy character, we asked Daniel what he was going to be doing after this play ran its course.
“Oh, I’ll probably burn down my high school.”

O
… of the United States:



“Namaste”

“Every moment is as precious as you recognize that it is.” Matthew Hepburn
(Matthew is one of my favorite meditation teachers on my 10% Happier app.)

How precious is that?!

Seriously? Look at those words. Why aren’t they celebrated instead of obliterated?

“Compassion” needs to be Cremated?
“Diversity” needs to be Destroyed?
I pray: “May the Horrendously Evil Trump Regime soon be Painted Over before our wonderful nation promising freedom and liberty for all be destroyed.”
“Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.”
I’m reposting a very truthfully powerful blog from my friend and fellow blogger SassyBear. Click on the hyperlink below to experience it.

Don’t placate the hate. Don’t let others defend the indefensible. Don’t let others berate you for “being political.” Don’t let others convince you …
The Line

I love this pewter plate Robert and I found in our Baltimore Airbnb.

Come closer.

Closer.

May 2025 bring us all …
HEALTH LOVE AND WEALTH
AND TIME TO ENJOY THEM
Now that proclamation SITS WELL with me.

I have recently started getting a beautiful weekly poem service provided by a pre-retirement colleague of mine from Georgia Southern University.
This week’s poem is titled, “Perseverance Prayer.”
“There is no one who has not their hour and no thing that has not its place.” —Pirkei Avot, 4:3
Perseverance Prayer
Be it rug or couch or bed, the dog
can’t help but turn and turn and turn again
before lying down, his angle always
a little off, the vantage never
quite as desired. Still the ritual persists.
Yet once in a prairie gone tall
with summer, high grass whispering
with afternoon breeze, he began—one, two,
three times around—and the stalks found
new joints with each of his orbits, swaying,
kneeling, prostrating away from him into
a massive golden wreath, an ideal bed.
A pursuit others call pointless is often just
the right action in need of its right place.
–Jessica Jacobs
from Unalone (Four Way Books, 2024)

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I feel that I am going round and round and round in circles and not exactly sure where to land.
But I believe there is a “right place.”