The Daily News

1   I slipped in and out of the Bay Area this weekend. Matt and Coley visited us in Sacramento to enjoy Thanksgiving, and we decided to caravan back to their place in Santa Clara. 

2   Long ride, made a bit longer because before we departed, I wanted to do a final check to make sure I had all my stuff. 

3  We got out a bit late, but I had gathered all my stuff for the trip, and was frantic about keeping it all organized. I get anal when I travel. My checklist for a simple two days kills me. So I went through everything the last go-round:

4  Guitar. Check. Coat. Check. Sweat shirt. Check. Toiletries. Check. Guitar Stand. Check. All other stuff. Check. 

5  Present for James Elwin Neal Ponticelli. Check. Laptop. Check. Cell Phone. Check. Shoes: three pair. Check. 

6  I had all that stuff, yet I still felt something might be missing. I went through my list. 

7  Got to feeling pretty sure of myself, never a good thing.

8  "Nah!" I said, to no one in particular.  I knew I had it down. 

9   We all got fast about loading the cars and getting out. I knew we had this. Doors thumped, good-byes waved, and we were on our way.

10  Long ride, but we got in a bit past five, and started unpacking. Even got a great place to park. 

11  I went to the trunk, and...do you ever have a thought-flash occur right before you do something...a flash, for example, of something you may have forgotten?

12 

13 

14  Like a suitcase?

15  

16  I swear to God.  

17  I opened the trunk swiftly, like a magician pulling a cape.

18  Gone!

19  I riffled through all my stuff. I lifted up my guitar. Nothing. I lifted my guitar stand. Nothing. I lifted my coat. Nothing.

20  No suitcase.

21  Go ahead and say it. How do you remember a guitar stand, but not your underpants and socks?

22  How do you remember a guitar stand, and not your pants?

23  Easy.

24  I'm a magician. 

25  I made my pants disappear.

26

27 

28  So yes. I forgot my suitcase, even though I spent an entire morning packing. 

29  Fortunately, Matt and Coley live near a Target. Matt was kind enough to go shopping with me. Let us examine more closely shopping in Modern Times:

30  Shopping in 2015, Especially for Pants, Dept: 

Operation Inside Target: A Brief Exemplum  

In this instance, I can say only this: 2015 is an era of massive decision demands and unanswerable mercantile confusion.

                           ---unknown

DISCLAIMER: For those reading all of this, I don't wish to disparage Target nor their fine products. They sell other companies' things. The specific pants' company I target here is Wrangler, whose website boasts the following choices of pants: Wrangler Cowboy Cut, Wrangler Five Star Premium Denim, Rock 47, RIGGS Workwear, Wrangler Retro, Comfort Solutions Series, Wrangler 20 X, Wrangler Jeans Co., Wrangler Red, Wrangler Rugged Wear, George Strait Collection, Wrangler 1947 Ltd. Ed., Wrangler Pro Gear, Cool Vantage, Premium Performance, Flame Resistant FR, Wrangler PBR, Genuine Wrangler, Big and Tall Sizes, U Shape, and Advanced Comfort. I had to come up with a simplified version. I felt like a confused Goofy. I got them down to three basic categories. 

31  Wrangler has something for everybody. I simplified this long and proper list by putting the pants in three simple categories:  Do I want Regular, Relaxed, or Tight-fitting pants?

32  I can already hit high notes in C. I think I could eliminate the third option. That leaves two.

33  Regular, or Relaxed? Regular, at my age, means irregular, and designed for ranch dudes. 

34  I decided to chose the relaxed fit, and that has made all the difference.

35  

36  Color choice was limited, so I chose blue-jean color, since I like blue jeans. Plus, those were the only ones that could possibly fit. 

37  Pretty simple, that. 

38  Next choice: Size. 

39  Now, I've walked a lot in the past month. I've eaten better, and have walked every day. I drink my gratuitous eight glasses of water per diem, and I take Communion every Sunday.

40

41  S-h-h-h-h. I bought two pair of jeans, one that was my waist size at the beginning of the month, when I weighed more,  the other one that is my current size, which is slightly smaller. I took my bag, thanked the clerk, and huddled out of Target, eager to get this task done. I got back to Matt and Coley's place and took my smaller pants out of the bag. I laid them down on the couch. 

42  I diet more during the holidays because I have to. A few days ago I managed to squeeze into a smaller size Wrangler pant. 

43   I looked down at my new smaller-size pants from Target. I shook my head and thought, "I could always return them." Frankly, I didn't want to try them on. 

44  I've also been wearing Cargo shorts since May, so this was the first time trying to put on long pants in quite some time. I chose the longer, larger-size pants. We are well into winter, so I must be in comfortable pants, especially when visiting people. I took the pants into Coley's bathroom and, to save time, was ready to hop into them quickly. I moved discreetly into the bathroom, with the huge things draped over my right arm. 

45  I stood on one leg, like an overblown stork, balancing on my good foot. I pulled my right leg into the pants. 

46  It slud in, and kept sludding. 

47  It had to be a mistake. The pant leg seemed the size of a city pipe.

48  My foot finally emerged from the other end, and then I used that foot as my toehold. 

49  I put the left leg in, pulled it up, and the pants slud almost up to my chin. 

50   I felt like Andy Gump. I had on clown pants.

51  That meant, of course...

52  I swiftly got out of the clown pants, folded them up like a striped tent, and set them in the corner.

53  I pulled the new, smaller-waist pants up and they made it to my belt line. I sucked in a little, and they worked into place. 

54   I swiftly got everything straight, pulled the belt around, and they had room to spare.

55   Victory. I wanted to cry. I was no Adonis, nothing like that, but my new pants fit. I wanted to give myself a medal.

56  The pants even slud down a little, almost in a gentle military salute. 

57   Not much, but I was ready to meet the day!

58   The rest of the day was lovely. Great day, and I felt like a dude in my new jeans. 

59  

60  By and by I bought new socks, new boxers, and a black T-shirt, with each having an equally confusing story to share, but I'll save that for another time. One glorious victory this morning is plenty.

61  Did I ever buy a suitcase to bring all these gifts home?


62  Nah. I would have just forgotten it. 

63  Stay real.

64  Gottago.

65  See you again.

66  Have a GREAT day!

67  Peace.

~H~

fin.

The Daily News

1  Thanksgiving, 1:09 a.m. I got this text:

James Earlvin Neal Ponticelli

born on 11/26/15

at 12:09am. 20.5

inches, 8lbs, 10

ounces.

A quick exchange followed:

Me: 

 Guy's big! Love it man! Huge congrats!!!!!!!

Ponch:

Thanks. Missed my birthday, but arrived for Jozlynn's

Ponch:

Middle name is Elwin Neal

Me:  

Thx for the text!

Get rest, and looks like a Thanksgiving

gift. Happy Birthday, Jozlynne!

Me:

I'll sign off. Ur

prolly getting all

sorts of texts!

Excited for you

man. Love you

guys! = )

<For the record, the emoticon was a simple yellow-head with a huge smile, not the cheap imitation, above.>

2  I knew that they had been in the hospital for a day or three, so I kept staying up late, awaiting the news. I had already written today's DN, which was all about Black Friday, and the history of the REAL Thanksgiving. 

3  Well researched piece, pretty dark, but stuff that was real. I assumed we would get all sorts of stuff on social media about people ditching out on Thanksgiving and hitting the stores early.

4  <basketball buzzer> I woke up last night a little past midnight after dozing at around 10, watched Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy in Adam's Rib, and finally hopped on Facebook to see if Ponch had announced the birth of James Elwin Neal Ponticelli.

5  The first thing I saw was the announcement, which lit up the night.

6  This was followed by tons of Thanksgiving pictures of families, children, food, celebrations, and sincere comments about what people are thankful for. 

7  I have two Facebooks, one for family and friends, the other for school, alumni, friends, colleagues, etc. Once I retired, a lot of those merged, sort of the way you might set your own Thanksgiving plate with potatoes, gravy, string beans, salad, turkey, cranberries, and stuffing, but right when you have finished your first round, all your flavors merge into a mushy food art. 

8  You can always count on me for ridiculous analogies. Where were we? Oh yeah, two websites.

9   Last night, after skimming both websites, I delighted in seeing the same stuff: thoughts of love, babies, grandparents, food, drinks, and celebrations.

10  I didn't see one post that said, "In the parking lot of Wal-Mart, waiting for them to open release the hounds!"

11  Instead I saw people doing Turkey Trots, or helping feed the hungry. 

12  Couldn't help being proud. 

13  I had hinted about a secret, and the birth of James Elwin Neal Ponticelli was that secret. Tough one to keep, but glad I did.

14  Have I other secrets to share?

15  Maybe.

16  Everybody tells me secrets all the time. Always have. I'm reasonably good at keeping them, although I've slipped now and again. 

17  After experiencing all that, I pulled out my piece on Black Friday and shelved it. 

18  It's factual, but it's sort of like bringing in the JFK assassination the day after Christmas. Not the proper time. Not today.

19  Not this weekend. Possibly not 'til March. Who knows? It remains in the can for now. There's too much spirited joy in the air.

20  Thanksgiving. New meanings.

21  Last night was really fun, getting it all together. The babies relaxed; I was assigned Isla for a while. I pulled her basket next to me and gave her a bottle. 

22  After around twenty minutes, I moved the bottle away, and gave her my pinky.

23  She grabbed it tightly. We've been doing that for a couple weeks. It keeps me from over-feeding, and keeps her relaxed.

24  She had both hands up, as though she had just signaled "Touchdown!" and grabbed my left pinky with her left hand. 

25  Babies. I gotta tellya. Cute you to death. 

26  Maren stayed calm as well, only cooed around and chuckled every now and again. This made the entire evening run beautifully, lots of calm, lots of laughs, lots of what was happening in lots of other houses.

27  'Murica.

28  Lovely times. 

29  I don't think it is just me. 

30  I think it is tons of people realizing how precious life is, and just how good things are right now.

31  I realize that not everyone is experiencing this, but everyone should know that they are important, and that they mean something. Life is too short to think otherwise. 

32  I won't go on, just feeling wonderful right now, and grateful for all the family and friends who shared yesterday.

33  Moving On, Part One: It's 4 a.m. I've been awake since a little past twelve. 

34  Three ghosts knocked at my door but I refused to let them in.

35  My time of day. 

36  I just looked at the clock. It's 3:58, not 4.

37   M'bad.

38   I did a double take, because right next to the clock, we've a small metal piece of wall-art. It is square, and has a thin tree climbing horizontally from the lower left to the upper right-hand corner. It has leaves. Coming down from the top left corner it says, "Enjoy the little things in life."

39  I smiled. 

40  It is now 4:a.m. On the dot. Now it's not.

41  Life travels that swiftly.

42  When I was writing "Enjoy the little things in life," the "Enj" jumped up and interrupted some other sentence. I tried to correct it, pushed the wrong button, and somehow my download screen appeared, complete with tons of pics I use when I write this. It was right out of Pixar.

43  I pushed my favorite key. Esc.

44  My computer goes wonky every time I do this. What should take minutes takes hours sometimes.

45  Right now I'm thinking of other things. I don't care. That's a nice thing, not to care once in a while, don't you think?

46  I think I'm going to get some sleep, and enjoy the 

remainder of the weekend. 

47  I want to thank my family for doing such a nice job yesterday; everything rocked. 

48  I hear a train whistle in the distance. 

49  Must be the 4:07.

50  I'm gonna go now.

51  Enjoy your day, and as I said, enjoy the remainder of the weekend. 

52  See you again.

53  Peace.

~H~

fin.

The Daily News

1  Rain.

2  What a pleasant thing to wake up and see. That happened yesterday morning. Everything was drenched. Mud. I loved it.

3  More to come. Rain, and good news soon, I hope. I hope it rains today too!

4  Moving On, Part One: On Monday I think I mentioned that today would be like a Friday. Told you the week would get short for most.

5  This time of the year always goes fast for me. 

6  Well, it goes slower than normal if you're not working.

7  One odd thing about retirement is that I am not allowed to work for six months. That was part of the deal. My feeling about that one?  Too lazy to care.

8  Watching after little Rocky does that to a guy. Yesterday I lit the fire, sat on Le Luge, my somewhat Lay-Z-Boy, and put my legs on this huge ottoman. I draped a cozy blanket over my legs and then settled into an old movie. Rocky came over, almost shivering, and hopped on top of the blanket. He curled into a ball and drifted off. The movie ended.

9  I have had moments this Fall that I will love for the remainder of my life. In retirement, I find that life changes, that it becomes more precious. I learned that lesson at an early age, promptly forgot it, and visited it again when I directed Thornton Wilder's Our Town long ago. I learned it when my grandmother passed away, and I forgot it by my next birthday.

  I learned it again when I directed Our Town. Here's a bit of that story, and how I stumbled into becoming a director. Listen, if you wish. Or skim through if you find it indulgent. Either way, here is the story of how I became a director, and how I became a teacher.

10  I was young, and hungry for a teaching job. Not much was out there, but I knew that my hometown school district tended to hire substitutes from the area. I attended Capuchino High School in San Bruno, and I thought it would have been wonderful to teach there someday. In my senior year, my friend Charlie and I got into a summer teaching gig with my junior high English teacher. We were essentially interns. We came in to direct a show, no pay. We both loved being involved in shows in high school, so we knew a bit about how they went. We chose a play calledThe Family Man, by Benjamin Zavin and Carl Leo. Here's the plot:

Bill Cahill, a former athlete but accident-prone, breaks his leg sliding into third base while playing baseball with his children. Faced with a long convalescence, his wife, Ellen, valiantly goes back to work to support the family, while Bill looks after the house. They do their work grudgingly, not realizing that they are both happier and more efficient in their new roles. Then Ellen, on a last minute impulse, brings her boss home for dinner, sending Bill into a rage. Bill feels this imposition is the last straw, and their new scheme of living, as well as their marriage, seems to be heading for the rocks. Things become even more uproariously complicated when it is discovered that Bill, using his wife's name, has sent in one of his original cookie recipes and an essay on homemaking to a TV Contest--and has been chosen the recipient of the Homemaker Award of the Year. The winner is to receive $50,000, plus additional sums for appearing on television--but the winner must be a woman. Bill wants his wife to pass herself off as the homemaker, but she refuses to be involved in anything so deceitful. The producers of the TV show arrive and are alarmed and dismayed when Ellen turns down their handsome award, and then are horror-struck when they realize they have bestowed their award on a man rather than a woman. Their fifteen-million-dollar TV program might be held up to ridicule and cancellation. But they decide, to save face and their program (and to capitalize on the enormous publicity which they sense will develop), to give the award this year to a man--Bill Cahill. Bill and Ellen are happily reunited, and the next thing we hear is that there is a sudden rash of broken bones among the men in the neighborhood. Accidental? Perhaps. But then Bill Cahill has shown that staying around the house each day might not be such a bad idea after all.

11  Ah, so advanced for its time. 

12  Midway through production, our master teacher, Diane Bradley, lost her husband to war. We were stunned, talked to her, and gave support. We also said, "The show must go on!" She appreciated that sentiment, which probably got the okay for us. 

 We were able to keep the gig, and went in each day laughing and enjoying rehearsals. We worked really hard for a few weeks.

   On the morning of the show, a group of us got up early and threw rolls of toilet paper on the houses of the cast members, and we put up posters that said things like "Break-a-Leg," or "Yeah!!!" Some parents and cast members joined in on the fun!

 Believe it or not, that was considered an act of support back then. Each week in the Fall, the spirit committee at the school would "TP" the homes of the varsity football team, often after midnight, or early mornings. It was considered a bit of an honor, and it brought the community together. We never considered clean-up, or that parents might be pissed off. It was just the way it was, if that makes sense. 

  We also had the parents prepare food for after the show, a nice cast party in the cafeteria. Before the show, Charlie and I gathered all the kids together. We circled up, gave a pep talk, and began the show. 

  It was a disaster. When the curtain opened, the boy playing Bill stood like a deer in the lights. There was an awkward pause, and we had to pull the curtain shut. The cast had gathered around in support, and I said, "You can do it! You've done it all this time. Just go out there and take over, kid!"

  The curtain opened a second time. This time the poor guy got sick to his stomach. We quickly closed the curtain. He ran to the bathroom and threw up. I was young and dumb, so I again said, "Go get 'em, champ!" or words to that affect. I had a tech kid put a spittoon behind the couch, and to use it if he needed.

  The show must go on, right? There's a reason few people know this story.

  The curtain again opened, he again put his hand up to his mouth, ran behind the couch, and we pulled the curtain. The girl playing Ellen then bravely announced to the audience that the show can't go on, because the guy playing Bill is sick, and we need to stop it here. 

  "And there are sandwiches and soda in the cafeteria, so please join us."

  I'm pretty sure Charlie and I should have done that; for the life of me I don't see how we left that one in the hands of an eighth-grade girl, but we did. Somehow, the parents were completely gracious, and wonderfully supportive. The cast party was a celebration of hard work and commitment to the bitter end. I got over it quickly, and it became a fun story to share with family and friends.

  Eventually I went to college, got a lead in Philip King's See How They Run, got a teaching degree and life credential, shopped around for teaching jobs up in the mountains, and eventually returned to Millbrae.


13  I signed up as a sub at the San Mateo Union High School District, and got work almost immediately.

14  They would call most mornings early and give me a list of places to go. Some gigs were pure hell, while others simply wonderful. 

15  I found if I treated the students with respect, I wouldn't have too much trouble. I also learned early when to say, "Uh...no thanks!". I stopped working at one of the richer schools, because the kids would go bat-crazy on any sub. That school shall go unnamed. It was neither Cap nor Mills.

16  One morning I got a call from the Principal at Mills High School, Cap's traditional rival. Their amazing director, Allen Knight, was taking a sabbatical, and they wanted to know if I could come in and direct a play. The guy before me was evidently a disaster. I took the job instantly. My first show ever was Don't Drink the Water by Woody Allen. I'll save that experience for another time, but it was my first shot at a huge show in an area I knew well, and a former director who was a local legend. I knew acting, but nothing at all about tech. I self-taught myself, reading every book on tech possible, during production. I was my own professor, and my own teacher's pet. I learned tons, sometimes juggling six books I got from the library. Exhausting yes, but Don't Drink became a huge hit. Getting there, not so easy, but in the end, it launched three other shows for me. I thank Allen for coming in at one point (I'm sure the kids could sense I was pretty wet behind the ears, and probably got him to come down) and offering help. He was a class act; he didn't push, nor did he ever want to undermine my own efforts. He was my mentor, and I appreciated that, because his productions rocked. Here's a brief sidebar about one of his shows I had seen, long before I ever got into the Don't Drink situation:

17  When I was in high school, my friend John and I decided to go over to Mills one evening to see their version of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. It blew John and me away. We went every night for the remainder of the run, and laughed our asses off each night. Allen Knight, a known perfectionist, directed. 

18  I even wrote an article about it in our school paper, The Stampede, admonishing our school for not coming out in droves to see our production of Arsenic and Old Lace, which I said in the article was equally as good as How to Succeed. I feared our school spirit was dying. Looking back, I'm sure it was more a deal of cycles, just as there are cycles in sports, in years, in days, and in rainy mornings. 

19  Don't Drink the Water worked because most of the cast consisted of seniors, trained by Allen Knight. Allen helped me, but so did a lot of people. Because of its success, I was asked to direct a second show in the Fall. I read hundreds of synopses, using Broadway cataloged from Samuel French, Inc. and Dramatist Play Service, the two best. I wanted a show that would become my own. I read all about the art of Theatre, and had a hunger to show what I could do, on my own. Our Town kept coming back to me. The story has a spiritual, powerful presence, and it is all about life, beginning with the theme of birth in the first act, love and marriage in the second, death, dying, and spirituality in the third. Brilliant play. 

20  Our Town taught me to appreciate life. It was the second Show I ever directed. It was magical. To this minute I put it up there as one of my favorite shows ever. That play was inspired by Japanese Noh theatre, with its minimalist-no-set-no scenery concept. Just lighting, and chairs, perhaps a table. Certainly a stairway, and two ladders. Thornton Wilder was a bit cavalier about it all remaining simple. 

 My cast played it beautifully. I had lots of subtle sound effects, crickets and birds in particular. I can't remember the sound album I used, but it was one of the very best. It told the user to keep the sound turned way down for best effects. 

21  So when George threw his baseball up in the air in Act One, you might hear a bird singing, or you might not. In Act II, you heard crickets at night, and George and Emily doing homework together by moonlight. Wilder had them on ladders, implying they were talking to each other through their bedroom windows. Lovely scene, crickets chirping underneath. In Act III, you heard the sound of rain. Everything was drenched. Mud.

22 It all worked. I discovered that Aaron Copeland did a musical interpretation of Our Town. I bought one of his albums and loved it. I use a few middle pieces from his other works. I brought much Copeland into the mix. Wilder lived in the area of Peterborough, New Hampshire, a town Copeland composed in on a number of occasions. Peterborough was the inspiration for Grover's Corners, the fictitious town that is the backdrop to Our Town. This inspired Copeland to compose Our Town. 

23  I realize that life comes alive these days. I value it all way more than when I was younger. I was always busy making other plans. 

24  Now it's living life to the fullest. I don't mean necessarily sitting in hammocks. It's been fun trying all sorts of new things. Getting healthier habits. Cutting my fingers on guitar strings because it's time I worked harder at music. Using the social media to give insights inside the teaching world.

25  I'm even thinking of auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance?.

26

27  And other things.

28  Okay, maybe not.

29  For the record, you don't ever want to see me dance.

30  Ever.

31  Anyway, that's the story. 

32  Moving On, Part Two: It's the day before Thanksgiving. My guess is the stores will be mobbed. Another nice thing about retirement is that I've had a chance to go to the stores three or four times already. You know that brie that you can't find? The wheel resides in my fridge.

33  No walnuts? I'm selling them for a dollar a walnut.

34  Pie shells? Got all of 'em, three different brands, and trust me, if you don't know what you're looking for on that one, I put three miles in at Safeway looking for those puppies. 

35  Homie don't bake.

36  And homie don't ask for help, him being a man. 

37  I'll never talk about myself in the third person ever again. 

38  I lied.

39  The only thing I need at the store right now is a bucket so that we could brine the turkey. 

40  I was told to get up early and beat the crowds. 

41   While I like the sentiment, the reality is I won't finish writing and editing this stuff until noon, or maybe even one o'clock.

42  The good news for me: I don't have to go to the supermarket to get a bucket. 

43  You get those at Home Depot, where I'm pretty sure there won't be a mad rush on  orange buckets that say in black writing, "Let's Do This."

44  Why those ones? Aren't I just giving free advertising to the Man?

45  Nope. 

46  I'm sporting my Giants' colors. 

47  Moving On, Part the Thoid: And I get to spend the remainder of the day in a hammock.

48  Oh, yes, and have the wimminz wait on me, hand and foot.

49  

50  <basketball buzzer>

51  My guess: I'll spend much of the afternoon taking orders from the soldiers running this camp.

52  I will do as instructed. 

53  I refuse to fail. 

54  I will eat some form of corn chips all afternoon, just because it is there. 

55  Anyway, I gottago.

56  Let's do this.

57  Thanks for listening to all this mumbo.

58  See you again. Have a GREAT day.

59  And count those blessings. They surround all of us.

60  Peace.

~H~

fin.