A Lovely Sunday

Recuperative. Soft. No drain on my brain. Getting into the moment. Being able to sink into the present. Just take your time. Take your time.

Mitchell and I headed out at around 9:30 a.m. to get down to Southport … we were going to see the 11:30 a.m. show of Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times at The Music Box (my favorite movie theatre on the planet). We were meeting up with Erik and his boyfriend Michael for the show – which was going to be a total treat. Last time I saw Erik, he made me look like a babealicious babealolio – and turned me on to the Smashbox makeup line forever. Mitchell had never seen Modern Times so I was SO excited to be there when Mitchell saw it. I had to force myself to let him have his own experience and not get all in his face every other minute, whispering, “Isn’t this awesome???” But it was a blast! The film has it all. It’s laugh-out-loud funny – and, like Mitchell said later, “It’s got fart jokes, tit jokes – there’s that whole cocaine incident … It’s totally ahead of its time.” And Paulette Goddard is awesome … she’s got a contemporary style of beauty. Natural and fresh-faced, kinda Maggie Gylennhall-ish. I particularly love the scene when Chaplin notices a flag that has dropped off a truck (he has just been released from jail for, oh, the 10th time) – and he picks up the flag and starts running after the truck, waving the flag crazily, like: “You dropped something! You dropped something!” And – at that very moment – a parade comes around the corner, obviously a Communist labor party parade – with people waving flags and signs about liberty and labor … and inadvertently, Chaplin (who can’t see the parade behind him) – running along waving his flag – looks like the leader of the parade – and is, again, thrown into jail. I just love how that parade suddenly appears. Now that is my kind of humor.

More to tell. But I’m in my pajamas, and it’s grey outside, and I have been sleeping like a rock, and am starting to feel a little bit better.

I finished my biography of Martin Van Buren and now I’m back to finishing Post Captain by Patrick O’Brian. I couldn’t read fiction for a month or so … but I’m going to give it a shot now.

Spent the afternoon yesterday at Sidetrack – it was “show tunes” afternoon. They put together these phenomenal clips of musical numbers – from Tony Award shows through the ages, to people singing on the damn Mike Douglas show – clips from movies … I love show tunes days at Sidetrack – I used to join Mitchell there constantly when I lived here. Everyone sings along, the place gets PACKED, and it’s just the best atmosphere – friendly, flamboyant, loud, and FUN.

The “pick a little talk a little” clip came on from The Music Man and I surprised myself by knowing all the words, even the incidental dialogue during the song. I did all the parts:

“Professor, her kind of woman doesn’t belong on any committee. Of course, I shouldn’t tell you this but she advocates dirty books.”
“Dirty books!”
“Chaucer!”
“Rabelais!”
“BALZAC!”
“And the worst thing…”
“Of course, I shouldn’t tell you this but-”
“I’ll tell.”
“The man lived on my street, let me tell.”
“Stop! I’ll tell: She made brazen overtures to a man who never had a friend in this town till she came here.
Oh, yes, that woman made brazen overtures
With a gilt-edged guarantee
She had a golden glint in her eye
And a silver voice with a counterfeit ring
Just melt her down and you’ll reveal
A lump of lead as cold as steel
Here, where a woman’s heart should be!”

FUN. There’s something vaguely decadent about drinking a cocktail during the day … and there are couches at Sidetrack, so we sank into the couches, and just howled with laughter, and randomly burst into song, and talked … and, in general, had a great time. Like Mitchell said later: there’s something relaxing about being with a group of people who are so QUICK, comedically – you never ever have to explain the joke, you never have to say, “No, what I was referring to was that funny thing you said about half an hour ago …” Never. It’s all back, forth, quick, making connections, bursting into laughter … it’s conversation as a GROUP EVENT, not a series of individual monologues. God, I love that.

It’s a grey day. I’m in my pajamas. I have coffee going. I might venture out into Andersonville in a bit, to walk around, and re-visit my old haunts. Oh, and yesterday – after Modern Times, the 4 of us strolled by the house where Mitchell and I lived for a year – it was behind the Music Box … that’s the place where M. would crawl through my window at 3 in the morning. Michael and Erik didn’t know the story, so Mitchell filled them in (we were all busting out laughing at the image of M. hanging in Mitchell’s window, saying apologetically, “Sorry … I’m looking for Sheila …” ) I peeked down the alley and there was my old bedroom window – and I almost could see the figure of M., standing below my window … summer nights from so long ago. I like to do pilgrimages like that.

And at 4:30 – I’m meeting up with Erik at Barney’s – where he works now … so he can do my makeup yet again. I’m excited. A little bit of pampering, and a little bit of re-thinking … of my face, my looks … I’ve been feeling haggish, spinsterish, and exhausted. He offered to give me a makeover and I’m so grateful and happy about it. Thank you, Erik!!!

Yesterday was a slow and blooming day, nowhere to be, nowhere urgent, nothing pressing … just walking around, and having lunch, and seeing a movie, and singing show tunes at the top of my lungs with the gay population of Chicago … I’m grateful for yesterday. Grateful for my friends here.