Washington, DC

I flew into DC, and met Judi at the airport, where she flew in from California.  We rented a car and drove out to Arlington, Virginia, to the home of my old friend, Dr. Donn Murphy. I have written about him before - he directed me in "The Importance of Being Ernest" in 1965 at Chestnut Lodge, and I had not seen him since!  Over the past year, we have rekindled our friendship via cyberspace, but the last time I laid eyes on him before this DC trip was actually 1965.  Donn and his partner Jon had very kindly invited Judi and me to stay with them in their beautiful home. 

We drove in around 6ish, dumped our prodigious luggage, and Judi and I immediately headed back out into heavy rush hour traffic to pick up Eileen and Kanny.  For those of you who have read "The Jagged Years", Eileen and Kanny are talked about in the epilogue. I hadn't seen them for a while. Eileen was my teacher at Trinity College in the 1960's, then my partner for a time, and she and Kanny have been together now since 1969, I believe.  But I'm in Washington, which means Maryland, which means CRABS - one of my favourite meals in the whole world, so off we go to the Bethesda Crab House for a crab feast.  As is usual, the tables are covered with newspapers and the crabs are just dumped onto them.  Everyone gets very messy.  Especially this one.  I ate more than anyone - probably more than any two!  As much as I love those Chesapeake Bay crabs, I have to say my favourite crabs, I now know, are the ones I regularly eat at Hope Key Restaurant in Victoria - I believe they prepare them there better than anywhere else in the world I have ever eaten crabs.  But the Bethesda Crab House was no slouch- it was a fine meal indeed.

The next day, Donn, Judi and I hopped in the car, picked up Eileen and drove out to find Chestnut Lodge - the hospital where I spent several years in the 1960's.  Now I knew that the main building, the one I had been housed in,  had burned down about a year and a half ago (arson was suspected) and I knew that developers were considering building, but I was not ready for what we found.  First of all, we almost didn't find it.  Rockville has changed so much, from a small Southern town to a city full of freeways and on and off ramps and huge buildings, that we almost couldn't locate the right street - it used to be one straight line down the Rockville Pike and there you are.  No longer.  Finally we found 500 W. Montgomery Ave, and the sign did say Chestnut Lodge - but even the sign was an up-scale yuppie version of the name carved in stone; the long narrow blacktopped driveway lined with huge trees was supplanted by a curved paved road with no trees and a housing development in bits and pieces along the sides.  We knew it was the right place because: a) it was called Chestnut Lodge; b) we were on Bullard Drive, and Dr Bullard used to own Chestnut Lodge and c) we came across the old barn I used to frequent while there (read the book).  Other than that old barn, there was not one familiar piece of terrain or familiar building.  Lots of housing developments, no trees, no kiosk, no Center, no Main Building ashes, no nothing that was a vestige of a life lived long ago.  In a way, it was a positive experience because now it is totally behind me.  I couldn't go back there if I wanted to which of course I don't.  It was an okay way to say good-bye, I suppose.  Better than having it still be intact.  It was a long drive there and a long drive back and an even longer drive in my mind to say good-bye, but say good-bye I did.  As did Donn.

We returned "home", picked up Jon, went out for dinner and then returned to watch a movie - Donn and Jon have a movie theatre - right up my alley - and I was very happy to sit in their comfortable chair and watch Gosford Park, which I had never seen before.

The day of the reading, Donn, Judi and I drove into DC.  Immediately across from the National Theatre (which is across from the White House) was a huge rally - The Tea Party - far right people apparently against taxes, government, medicare, for sure Obama (mostly because he is black), and against anything else that seemed to make sense to me.  Most of these folks are pro-gun, are armed, and are called the "open carriers" because they want to carry guns everywhere. There were many hundreds of them, all with Sarah Palin buttons, and signs that were not at all like our peace march signs, and lots of megaphones making ugly noise.

We walked into the National Theatre and up to the Helen Hayes Gallery where the reading was to be held.  One woman walked into the room and commented: "Those people on the street are a lot crazier than those at Chestnut Lodge!"  I couldn't agree with her more.  They were loud and outrageously more far right than the far right fundamentalist radio host in San Diego.  But enough about them. 

The Helen Hayes Gallery in the National Theatre is a delightful space.  We did not have a huge crowd but we had a good one - about fifteen people, including my niece Jill who drove over four hours from North Carolina to attend, my friend Bonnie Morris, who ran over in between teaching classes at George Washington University, and Eileen.  Besides Donn, all the others were unknown to me, but very interested, and asked a lot of good questions and bought books. Donn seemed pleased with the reading as I was.  It seems that everywhere I read, at least several people come up to me to say:  "Hey, that should be a movie!" to which I reply: "I'm trying - the script is in Hollywood right now."  Of course, so are thousands of other scripts.  It's like trying to get on Ellen or Oprah - everyone says I should do that, but me and ten million other people are trying on any one day.  I would love to as would all the other nine million and ninety-nine whatevers.

Fiddler on the Roof with Harvey Fierstein just opened two days ago at the National Theatre and Donn gave us comp tickets - a box no less, and to my utter delight,, Jill, my niece was able to join us. We sat right over the stage and watched a great production.  I had seen Harvey when Torch Song Trilogy first opened on Broadway, and then had long discussions with him at one of the Marches on Washington (for lesbian and gay rights) - he did a very good job of Tevye.  The music is wonderful, the dancing, exciting - a very enjoyable evening in the theatre.  After the performance, we drove Jill to the metro station for her to retrieve her car which she had parked in Virginia to avoid the traffic (which was made worse by all the Tea Party demonstrators- they were out in front of the George Washington Monument in the evening).

I can't explain how touched and pleased I was that my niece Jill drove for over four hours to get to the reading, and then after the show this evening, drove back the same way so she could be at work early in the morning.  Jill is Matthew's (from Austin) sister, and I hadn't seen her for ten years as well.  It was so great seeing the wonderful adult she has become.  I felt as though I could speak with her for hours and hours and hope I get a chance to do just that in the very near future.

Donn picked us up after the theatre - he has been absolutely wonderful - I could not ask for a more perfect host - and he and Judi and I went out to a diner for a late dinner.  We returned home to pack for the airport the next morning.  We're off to New York!