Last February, I learned of the passing of a friend and college classmate with whom I and a group of other Theatre friends had shared some rather ridiculous, outrageous and very fun adventures in the 1980's. Of course, as many college friends do, we drifted apart after graduation. Some of us stayed in touch through an annual Christmas card or the occasional meeting. Then along came Facebook and we started finding each other again. And then Chris passed and we vowed to get together in Florida over this holiday weekend.
Then a whole bunch of other crappy stuff happened and my mother passed, causing a major shift in my personal paradigm. I didn't want to be home alone for the holidays, so I opted to spend Christmas in Florida with my sister, making a second trip so soon after financially infeasible, much to my disappointment. These 12 or so folks and I spent a whole lot of time together doing theatre, camping and traveling and just hanging out. There was a particular rental house nearby where we tended to gather and inevitably, we'd end up around the piano, belting out show tunes, out-of-season Christmas carols and always, this song:
Of course the other song I so closely associate with this particular Band of Brothers and Sisters wasn't in our repertoire at 'The House,' but was often the last song of the night at special events:
Cheery, eh? But we were a cheery group of misfits and artists trying to figure crap out and having a hell of a time doing it! I have several very close friends from the same era, whom I see regularly. These folks I don't get to see nearly enough. These are the people with whom I shared 'escapades.' I was lucky enough to visit with the weekend's hostess at her farm while down in December. We tried Skyping earlier tonight, but I can't seem to make it work, also much to my disappointment. I shall try again, tomorrow. Honestly, I'm lucky I figured how to post this blog...
So this post is dedicated to my (mostly, slightly younger) TSC 80's Theatre Friends! I miss you guys and wish I was there with you. And while it's really apropos of nothing other than the 80's, here's a silly video that made me laugh. I hope they see it and laugh, too.
I took my time in college, attending several schools; starting out full-time and ending part-time (mostly because I couldn't afford to do so any other way). One of the advantages of taking my time was that I got to do and learn from lots of great theatre and lots of great directors and acting coaches. The other was that I got to meet and make friends with a whole lot of people, many of whom I still know and love to this day.
One of those people was my friend Chris, seen to your right in a rather blurry photo taken by our mutual friend Marly while on a trip we took to Salem, MA to do 'research' for a production of Arthur Miller's The Crucible. Chris lived close to campus and we had many parties at his house. We also went on lots of adventures together.
One of those adventures was a Spring Break road trip to Florida, which probably deserves a post of its own one day. Myself, Chris, our friend Rich and his future wife Dawn all headed down I-95 in car I rented (because I was only one old enough to do so). We took turns driving and I remember waking up around 3 AM somewhere in the Carolinas, as Chris was driving. I glanced at the speedometer - the needle was pressed as far right as it would go. I simply shrugged and went back to sleep, knowing that someone who had once been pulled over for speeding on the Autobahn was at the helm and we would be fine. There's a ton more to tell about that trip, but again - that's for another post.
As much as Chris had a reputation among our clique for being for being a madman, he was sweet and kind and gentle and often very, very funny. A talented carpenter (his father was a cabinet maker) and an often reluctant actor, Chris was known to have a bit of a temper and once infamously and very completely destroyed a beautiful art deco set he'd built for a production of Dinner at Eight after a dispute with the director (the show had closed). We all knew who'd done the deed, though none of us told, even though the incident made the local papers.
Many years passed and while some of us were still in touch, it wasn't until the advent of Facebook that we all reunited (as much as folks can on Facebook). It was last fall when Chris joined Facebook and we were all glad he had done so.
Then news came in January that Chris had gone missing. Suffering from bi-polar disease, Chris was visiting his sister who noticed he wasn't himself and set out to take him to a local hospital for treatment. She went to get her coat and upon her return found him gone. Scent dogs traced him to a footbridge on the Delaware-Raritan Canal. While Chris was an avid outdoorsman and knew how to survive in harsh conditions, the situation didn't look good. Although we were scattered all over the country, our mutual friends expressed concern and worry. This past Sunday, a family canoeing the canal stumbled across a body which was identified by a driver's license as Chris. Local police are speculating that he committed suicide, though there is no hard evidence to support that theory.
It doesn't matter to me how or why Chris passed, only that he did. And that my life is all the better for having spent time with him. And I can only hope that his was better for having spent time with me and our mutual friends. While I and our friends mourn his loss, we can all celebrate the many wonderful; hilarious; joyous; confounding and exciting times we shared together. I only hope he is finally at peace.
Tonight, at 10 PM Eastern, our mutual friends raised a glass in Chris' memory and posted photos of ourselves doing so on a private Facebook page dedicated to him. I can imagine him smiling at the thought.
Here's the thing: None of knows how long we'll be here. Take the time to tell the ones you love that you love them. Do so often and sincerely. Savor the joyous moments of your life because they are truly few and far-between. Spend as much time pursuing the joyous moments as you can. Spend even more time pursuing time with friends and family. Be kind to everyone you meet - you never know who'll be part of your life for all of it, or just some of it. Laugh as often as you can. Love as much as you can. Share your joy, but never gloat about it. Slow down. Live the life you want to live and make no apologies to those who disagree with that life. Take time to remember everyone who touches your life, no matter how briefly.
This was one of Chris' favorite songs, and while it isn't exactly a 'happy' song, it's one all of his friends will always remember him by:
I truly hope that Chris' pain has receded, even while his family's and friends' is peaking.
I am not a sports fan, by any means. In fact, I hate football. But this post isn't about football. This post is about pain; betrayal; indifference; criminal behavior and a particularly vile human being.
Yes, Joe Paterno led the winningest college football team of all time for more years than I've been alive. That's something to be proud of, I guess. But at what cost?
When the scandal first broke, many of my friends and co-workers were stunned. I was horrified. You all know the details, I'm sure. Jerry Sandusky, a married man with children and former assistant coach at Penn State, has been accused of molesting boys he mentored as part of the Second Mile Foundation, a charity he founded. Some of these boys were as young as seven years-old!
Sandusky was caught twice; once by a janitor in 2000 and again by Graduate Assistant Mike McQueary in 2002. Neither of them went to the police. The janitor, Jim Calhoun, told a co-worker but feared for his job. McQueary went to Paterno, who in turn reported the incident to his supervisor. NO ONE went to the police and neither of the men tried to intervene, even though they walked in on Sandusky while he was raping a young boy. Yes, you read that correctly. The two men walked in on the acts, but neither tried to stop them. WHAT?!?
There are so many things wrong about this whole mess, I can't even begin to count them. And just as sickening as the abuse, is the cover-up. Why has it taken 11 years for this to come to light? Why was Sandusky allowed access to these children? Why didn't anyone call the police? Jesus wept!
To me, there is nothing worse than the abuse of a child; be it mental, physical, emotional or sexual. As far as I am concerned, Sandusky should be castrated and locked away alone in a dark room for the rest of his life. As for Paterno and the others who have lost their jobs, I don't feel sorry for a single one of them. It's called "silent assent" and by not reporting the abuse to the police immediately, they are just as culpable.
And of course, homophobic a-holes are using the whole thing to make the point that gay men are pedophiles, which just makes me angrier at Sandusky. The truth is, pedophilia has nothing to do with sexual orientation. Still, creeps like Bryan Brown, Maggie Gallagher and Rick Santorum will use the situation to promote their anti-gay platforms, despite every report which confirms that sexual orientation is never the motivator in such cases.
Everybody loses here. Paterno; the former President of Penn State; McQueary; Penn State students and players; Penn State fans and supporters, and the LGBT community. Of course, those most hurt -- the victims of Sandusky's assaults -- are the ones we should be concentrating on. These poor kids will never trust an authority figure again. And can you blame them? No. Blame Sandusky and everyone else who lied and covered for him. I have absolutely zero sympathy for those who ruined their own lives by doing nothing to stop a monster from destroying the innocence of so many. In fact, the whole thing makes me sick to my stomach.
OK - another rant over, though I'm sure as more details come to light, I'll be angrier and angrier about the whole thing.
