The Old Stompin’ Grounds

Chicago. The familiar stretch of Southport. A white winter sky. The red neon of the Music Box sign towering above the rest of the signage on the street. My old house. The Jewel.

Old friends. New friends (like Pastor Sean, who regaled us with hilarious tales of the insane sound mess-up that had occurred the night before in Mamma Mia – NUTS – hysterical, one of those great theatre anecdotes). My dear friend Kate, her awesome husband, their new little baby. Perfect. His perfect hands, his perfect little face. Seeing an old dear friend become a mother. Watching her adjust, and take to it. Kinda brings tears to my eyes. I got to hold him and that was pretty cool. His large blue eyeballs staring at my face. I loved hanging out at their place … the baby sleeping, or crying, or eating … doing what babies do … the poor dog lying on the rug, rather disconsolate, and desperate for attention. “She’s been demoted,” said Kate. Catching up with the two of them – how they’re doing, their lives, their upcoming acting jobs and current acting jobs, their new roles as parents … Got to spend the whole day yesterday with them and it just was so so so great.