SINK THAT FUCKING BOAT

I'm standing on the shore of Shaver Lake, California, high in the Sierra Nevada. It's the last full day of Camp Chawanakee. I'm 14 years old, surrounded by hundreds of fellow Boy Scouts, watching my troop lose, by a lot, in a row boat race. The boats are these metal row boats we all use to get our rowing merit badge, and can also check out during camp to head out to Thunderbird Island. There are about ten boats in the water. The race is to row out with a crew of four to a buoy in the lake, circle it, and come back. My buddy Jay is in the boat. He's two years younger than me, but my best friend. We met on a kayak trip, discovered a mutual love of the Stones, the Kinks, and other stalwarts of what is now called classic rock but was to us back then simply music we dug. Jay is the funniest kid I have ever met. And always does shit you would not expect. He looks like a miniature businessman to me most of the time. Short hair, horn-rimmed glasses, a resting face that looks like he is considering the stock market. But he is the antithesis of that. He is the kid who will convince you to sneak out at night and toilet paper someone's house. To sneak a beer out of the parent's fridge. And the entire time, you laugh your ass off as you do something that will for sure get you in trouble. For instance, once, while we were hanging out at his folks place, he thought it would be fun for us to take his dad's Cherokee Chief out for a spin. He was 12, so of course he drove. How we didn't get noticed and pulled over is still a mystery to me, but a lot of the grown-up world seemed crazy then, and still does to this day, so it wasn't all that nuts. When we finally returned to his house, his father was waiting for us in the garage. And we lived to tell the tale.

So there I am, on the shore, watching Troop 339, the pride of the Pioneer District, getting lapped by several other boats. 

And I see Jay look over at the boat in the lead.

And I know exactly what he is planning to do. 

Because when you're tight with someone, that's how it goes.

Jay puts down his oar, stands up, and leaps out of the boat, swims to the winning boat, grabs the side, and manages to flip it over. The scouts in the boat leap out, into the water, and the winning boat is now upside down. 

Everyone in the race is able to swim, and are all wearing life jackets, so we are fairly certain no one is going to die. 

There is a moment of silence, and then the entire crowd roars with laughter. It's just too funny not to. I don't know why. Maybe it's because something about the look on Jay's face makes it clear he isn't a sore loser, he is just not having it anymore. He sees the ridiculousness of his situation and has decided to change it. 

The kids from the now upside down boat swim over to Jay's boat and flip it over.

In an instant, everyone in the race is out of their boat, flipping other boats over and howling with joy.

I have this image burned in my brain of Jay standing on the back of the boat he flipped as it sinks into Shaver Lake's murky depths. His hands are raised over his head, and he is, for that moment, a God of Chaos here on Earth.

And we lived to tell that tale too. It probably helped that the lake wasn't too deep where the race took place, and all boats were retrieved. 

Some shit you just can't make up.

So now, it's here. Today. And Jay is fighting another ridiculous situation. One involving cancer. And I want him to leap out of his boat and swim and sink that fucking boat. 

If there is anyone in this universe who can do that, it's Jay. 

Here's a song. It's Jumping Jack Flash by The Stones.

I WANT TO SEE MOUNTAINS AGAIN

Bilbo has gone over the sea, to be with the elves. I shall miss him. There is always a bit of sadness when someone who gave you joy, who made your journey a little more bearable, passes. And I feel that now. But with the sadness there is also wonder and gratitude. Ian Holm, the great British actor who played Bilbo in the Lord of the Ring movies, and Ash in Alien, and the coach in Chariots of Fire, and about a million other things, died last week. I shall miss him. I shall miss that feeling whenever he would show up in a film I was watching for the first time, and I'd think "this movie just got better!" I loved so many of the flicks he was in. Most, though, has to be LOTR. I have loved Middle Earth since first reading The Hobbit in fourth grade. I read the trilogy twice by the end of seventh grade. I even once sat down and read The Two Towers, cover to cover, in one outing when I was all of thirteen. I watched the TV version of The Hobbit every time it came on. And when the Ralph Bashki animated version of The Lord of the Rings came out, I saw it many times in the theatre, and many more on TV. The Bashki version was mainly the first two books, and I waited forever for the final installment. It never came, although there was a rather odd animated version of Return of the King made for TV. I recall it had singing orcs. It did not go over well with me at the time. For years after, pretty much my teens, twenties, and early thirties, I wished and hope for a good version of either The Hobbit of Lord of the Rings to come out. And then I read that Peter Jackson, a film maker from down under known mostly for quirky horror films, was making a trilogy based on LOTR. And I hoped. Finally, the first trailer came out. I was at the movies with my friends Myles and Chris. When the trailer finished, which was amazing and perfect and looked like what I always hoped a film about Middle Earth would look like, Chris turned to us and said "I wish I could hit myself in the head, go into a coma, and not wake up until this film is out". He didn't follow through with his plan, but the film did come out.

And it was all we had hoped and more.

And Ian Holm, as Bilbo, was perfect. He made me cry, right from the start. There is this moment, early on in Fellowship of the Ring, where Bilbo's old friend Gandlaf, with whom he had gone on the greatest adventure of his life, shows up at Bilbo's house after many years. Gandalf knocks on the door, Bilbo opens it, and is overcome with joy. The way Ian Holm played that moment made me cry. I had lived long enough by then to know what it meant to miss those you love. To have great people in your life, people you have shared time and tests with, who you grew up with, who helped you become you are; to have friends that own part of your soul who you don't see all that often. It is just part of the deal, I think. We make great friends, and then we have the audacity to have lives that separate us. So Bilbo opens the door, and his face is filled with both joy at seeing his old friend, and sorrow at the knowledge of time passed without him. The bittersweet feeling of love and friendship in the face of the insistent march of time.

I knew how that felt, but had not articulated it as such just yet. And that scene, that moment, that look on Holm's face, sealed it for me. I sat in the theatre, and for the briefest of moments, I was with Brian and Jay and Greg and Jack, with my friends at Strawberry Park Elementary, my cast mates from East of Eden, my Scout Troop, my family, my mom, my dad. And I was also in NYC, far from all of them, as far as can be, for there is no greater distance between to things than time.

And I am with them still, but the hall of memory grows daily. And now Myles, and Chris, Vinnie and Shannon, Dutch, my brother and sister, they all are there too, along with the good times and bad, the discoveries, the triumphs, the defeats, the brief moments when we realized we were alive together, and reveled in that miracle.

So thanks, Sir Ian. You helped me be me. You own part of my soul too. I hope you have a gentle crossing, that the elves sing songs that delight. And while I know it is the right and proper road we all must take, I can't help but feel a little sad.

Here's a song. It's The Shire, by Howard Shore, from the soundtrack to The Fellowship of the Ring.

AVENGER, VON DOOMER, AND DARK KNIGHT DETECTIVE

I used to live in a castle. Castle Von Doom. This was when I ran with wolves, always went over the limit (4 rocks and  a shot) and had many battles with the Dreaded Egg Lady of Yorkville. And one my my closest compatriots in these glorious salad days was Vinnie. We met during a production of Hamlet, which was being done as part of the fabled Shakespeare in the Park(ing) Lot. I was replacing another actor as the Player King, Fortinbras, and Bernardo. Vinnie was, among other roles, the Player Queen. One night early in the rehearsal process, Vinnie and I decided to grab a beer at Motor City, a bar on the at the time desolate Ludlow Street on the Lower East Side. We hadn't really hung out at all before, and figured what the hell? Instantly, we realized we were both uber-nerds with lots of interests in common- comic books, The Simspons, Weezer. We laughed our asses off for a long time that night. Many drinks into the evening, I announed to Vinnie that I had powers. Super powers. Vinnie did not believe me. I pointed to the only other person in the place, an attractive girl sitting at the bar, and started making "come to me" gestures, while also saying "come to me" over and over. Vinnie laughed, as did I. I turned back to Vinnie- who's face suddenly looked surprised- because the girl walked up to the table, and asked if she could sit with us. We said "Yes!" She told us her name was Ziggy. We nodded. She said she lived near there. We nodded. She left. Vinnie looked at me like I was crazy, asked me why I didn't leave with her- sadly, booze gives courage and stupidity in equal shares. I ran out of the bar- but Ziggy had vanished in the night. We decided she must have been a succubus, and I was lucky to be alive.

After that night, we were fast friends. Many nights we spent at rehearsal, at Motor City, and also literally jumping from roof top to rooftop, running across the FDR at sunrise after an all nighter, and working on some fantastic theatre- The Seagull, Henry V, Last Call. We quickly gave ourselves, and our circle of friends, many new names from different universes. In the DC universe, Vinnie was Batman, I was Superman. We figured out who would be which hero in both the Avengers, as well as the larger Marvel Universe. We were gloriously mad. We became room mates after about a year- Vinnie, me, and my brother Jerry. We named the place Castle Von Doom. The parties there were legendary. As time went on, we got a little older. I still remember, clear as a bell, taking a cab home one night after rehearsing Muse of Fire. Vinnie asked me what I thought about Shannon- a girl who he would go one to marry and who is one of the most excellent people in the world.

These days, we live far apart with families and all that. No matter. He is one of my best friends, and I know if I ever need him, all I need do is face the east and cry "Avengers Assemble!"

His birthday is today. Thanks, universe, for this wonder of a man.

And here's a link on the latest about ROSE RED and MOON OVER BUFFALO:
http://squeakystheatrepage.blogspot.com/2013/05/moon-rises-tonight-rose-blooms-in-june.html