Awww, people, sure, I was like the last person in America who still watched “ER,” but after 15 years, it’s over, with its sometimes heavy-handed story lines, seriously bummed out characters, and hard to sing theme song. I am a little sad that it’s over, but slowly, my shows are reaching their peak, headed to expiration, which means I will eventually be able to get taxes and house work done.
My mom told her co-worker that he had ears “exactly like Buddha.” And I was like, What? You mean, meaty and hearty like a steak? And she said, Yes — and I said, Ma, you can’t go around saying stuff like that to people! And she said, Too bad. This is the way I am. It’s too late. And I said, Did he get mad? And she said, Oh no, I told him it was a compliment, that he would be a king if he lived in Buddha’s time. And he said, Everyone in India has ears like these.
Hmmm. Also, my mom doesn’t like when I blog about her. She says there’s no need to make her humiliation so public…but I don’t think I can stop.
Uh, today, I forgot what my zip code is. Is that bad?
I still remember choking at my piano recital during high school. The girl before completely blanked (horrible to witness) and her wipeout psyched me out. I was playing Bach Invention #13, which I loved and practiced a kabillion times at home, but that moment, with everyone staring at me? All I could get out were the first three measures — then CHOKED. (I ended up jumping ahead in the piece and played the whole thing in 30 seconds. Having a fast word/per/minute typing time is good at work, but not really relevant for the piano — unless you want to get the hell out of dodge.)
When you’re doing a show, choking is worse. I still remember blanking on lines in a Steinbeck show I did with my friend Christine. It was like a MONOLOGUE while two performers acting out the story — so it was all on me. The moment I forgot my lines, the lights shined brighter, I could hear my heart speed up, and I broke out into a crazy-woman level of sweat. Not good. As I sat there wondering what I should do (I thought about starting over, I thought about leaving and never coming back, wondering where the fire exit, etc.), the line finally came back to me. Thank God!
The only other times I choked was um, four times, during the first time I ever performed a one-person show because I was so unbelievably nervous. We put the script on the accordion’s music stand, thank God! Hopefully, those days are behind me — not the forgetting part, because I’m only too aware of how my memory is starting to fade with age, but next time, maybe my runaway nerves will have chilled.