Saturday, September 11, 2004

Oh God, Book II

A return trip to church today. This time so my dad could attend an actual service. I joined him, because, sometimes that's would good, lost souls like me do. Actually, I was even curious to see a service at such a magnificent structure... and if it meant something to my dad in the meantime, so much the better. But no worries - my soul remains corrupt, but not so bad that holy water stings my skin or I turn away from crucifixes or my image doesn't reflect in the mirror... although more and more less of my hair is reflecting back at me. In time... in time...

We also brought the husband of one of my stepmom's colleagues, Ed, who wasn't as impressed by the cathedral as my dad and I, comparing it to a concrete parking lot. Ironically, the priest closed the service by reminding everyone to get their parking tickets validated on the way out.

Afterwards we zipped over to the L.A. Coroner's Gift Shop, aka Skeletons In the Closet, which i'd been looking for an excuse to visit for a couple years now. My dad scooped up a few t-shirts and a hat pin, and even offered to buy me a t-shirt or hat. I declined - after years with the Network, and more recently ESPN, I have enought t-shirts to clothe a dozen touring companies of Oh Calcutta! (sorry, couldn't think of a better comparison) And the caps weren't the "flex-fit" style - gotta be flex fit. But they have lots of other neat stuff with their chalk outline logo on it, like bath towels, medical scrubs, shoulder bags, door mats, even body bag style garment bags. You can buy all of it online at their website, but something about going to the L.A. County Coroner in person is kind of cool - at least in the instance. They even give you a parking pass that says you're a guest of the coroner.

In the evening, Judy, my dad and I went to see Claire during her first performance of "Western Big Sky". My oldest friend in L.A., Lanelle, also came by to watch. Supposedly a reviewer from Backstage West was also in attendance, and if so, I can't wait for the write up. The play itself is very funny and well acted, but Claire is a standout as a drunken bar maid conspiring to have her husband killed because she has drunken illusions that he's trying to kill her too. She gets to kiss two different guys... oh well.

suggested reading: Lorenzo Benzo with We All Have Stories seems to be having some miraculous steps in the past few weeks... our bedridden, mysterious crippling disease strought hero has now been able to ingest solid foods, which, as she points out, includes Sourpatch Kids... a woman after my own heart. She says she is confident she'll be able to walk again. I just hope this doesn't mean she'll get so busy being active that she doesn't have time for writing... I'm kidding, I kid... yeah, maybe more church would do me good...