Saturday, June 18, 2011
Letters to Momma
Letters to Momma
Friday, April 15th, 2011
San Francisco, California
Hi Momma –
Once upon a time, years before you passed away, you and I were discussing what it would be like for you to die. I generated the conversation out of my fear of losing you, and since you and I always discussed everything of importance in our lives, I hoped that talking about your death would help me bear living my life without you. As usual, you were willing to discuss it, as long as it would help me.
“The only thing I’ll regret about dying,” you said, “will be having to miss what goes on in your life next. I always have such fun sharing your life with you, I’ll be sad to miss your next adventures.” I didn’t know how to respond. You were not scared of death. You were just sad that you’d miss me and what the years would bring my way. My adventures, you called them.
Well, I’d like to respond now that you are gone.
Peter and I have started brand new adventures here in San Francisco , a town you and I never got to experience together and now that I am writing full-time, as you always said I should , let me share my life on Lombard Street by writing you about what it’s like to live here. Remember how, when I was on the road with a show, I’d write you countless postcards from each theater we played? Well, now I want to write you letters, so you can read them, wherever you are, sharing them with the friends you’ve made there, over heavenly cups of good strong coffee, as you always loved. Maybe you’ve re-connected to some favorite relatives, and rather than dredging up the old stories you keep boring them with about me, I can send you new ones to entertain them with.
Let’s call them the San Francisco Stories for Momma Letters.
And I promise to be as faithful a correspondent, as ever I was.
So, expect a letter soon, Momma. A very special delivery.
As ever,
Evalyn
Labels: Letters to Momma
A Tourist in My Own Hometown
Letter to Momma
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
San Francisco
Momma-
Another gorgeous day here in this new city of ours, which will soon be a city that we have lived half a year in! We Came here to meet our moving truck right after Thanksgiving in 2010, so, around May 26 , son in another couple of weeks- so soon! - – we will have officially been moved in as San Francisco residents for 6 months!
It’s incredibly true how quickly time flies when fun is being had, and Peter and I are having new and surprising fun every day that we live here. Almost daily, I have to remind myself that I am not on vacation here, but that I am, rather, living here full time, and that those palm trees I see as I walk through Ft. Mason Park are actually my palm trees now – that the fine weather is indeed mine to enjoy all the time because I LIVE HERE !!!! The gorgeous scenic views as we explore Presidio Heights, and the fabulous Marin Headlands – all that natural beauty belongs to me! It’s 5 minutes away, whenever I choose to get in our car and drive there! Or walk along the Bay and enjoy the fact that those fat, gorgeous gulls are now MY sea birds, right in MY backyard. That I can enjoy lunch in Sausalito any time I want, and can go get fabulous food n any neighborhood, or chocolate at G Square right down the hill, or whatever I want that this town has to offer, and I don’t have to get on a plane to enjoy it because I LIVE HERE NOW!
Of course, the best part is that we are finally beginning to settle into rhythms that make our lives work in what is fast becoming a more familiar hometown.
At first, I despaired that I would ever know and understand the streets, the way they fit together, the traffic patterns , etc. But now, it’s all falling sweetly into place, and the more I drive around the city, the easier it becomes to now where I’m going. I’ve fallen into the pattern of taking Peter to his office downtown every morning, and picking him up at the end of the day. On my way home from dropping him off, I roam, and let myself get lost and simply remember that the Bay is always north, so I do always find my way back to 1320 Lombard again, but in the meantime, I’ve learned more about how the city fits together, which streets follow which, what traffic is like in various neighborhoods at various times , etc. And the city begins to feel more like mine.
I travel it like a fascinated tourist. Then come home to our sunny apartment and sit at this desk and write. The book is in its planning stages and actually has a shape. If it were a baby (I imagine, never having had one myself), it would just be beginning to show up as a shadow with a shape in its sonogram, with its little heart faintly beating with the urge to grow and live.
I love you Momma…….as ever, Ev
Labels: Momma Letters SF
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Letter to Momma: Catching Up and Catching My Breath
Morning Momma - and All :
So much - too much - has been going on for me to write about right now, but I promise a true catch up on all of it soon. For now, suffice it to say life is not boring. Peter has finally accepted a full time version of the temp job he was immediately engaged in on our arrival, and after having to make a decision between two tempting offers, he chose the more "corporate" one, and I trust his choice. Sad that we had to disappoint friends who were hoping he'd make the other choice, but I know all will be well with both the jobs and the friends, because life has a way of working out, no matter what.
Below is my latest column for the Marina TImes...and in fact I 've been asked to do a regular monthly column, from the POV of a San Francisco newcomer. It will be a pleasure and I am grateful for the chance to focus my writing in areas other than the book that continues to tumble out.
Reading through my 40 years of personal journals has been like walking through a bewildering forest of "WHO WAS THAT GIRL?" and "DID I REALLY DO THAT?" and , again for now, all I can say is, the sheer act of reading and remembering has changed my current life in deep ways. More on all that later as well.
For now, I am merely the book's recording secretary. I can do no more than listen to what needs to come out and let it arrive on some page or other. Again, life is not boring, and , from what I've been reading, it never has been!
Enjoy my June Marina TImes column below...i send it to you all with great love and gratitude for the chances SF is giving me to write out loud.
ENTER STAGE LEFT: A NEW COAST
a Times a division of Northside Publication
So much - too much - has been going on for me to write about right now, but I promise a true catch up on all of it soon. For now, suffice it to say life is not boring. Peter has finally accepted a full time version of the temp job he was immediately engaged in on our arrival, and after having to make a decision between two tempting offers, he chose the more "corporate" one, and I trust his choice. Sad that we had to disappoint friends who were hoping he'd make the other choice, but I know all will be well with both the jobs and the friends, because life has a way of working out, no matter what.
Below is my latest column for the Marina TImes...and in fact I 've been asked to do a regular monthly column, from the POV of a San Francisco newcomer. It will be a pleasure and I am grateful for the chance to focus my writing in areas other than the book that continues to tumble out.
Reading through my 40 years of personal journals has been like walking through a bewildering forest of "WHO WAS THAT GIRL?" and "DID I REALLY DO THAT?" and , again for now, all I can say is, the sheer act of reading and remembering has changed my current life in deep ways. More on all that later as well.
For now, I am merely the book's recording secretary. I can do no more than listen to what needs to come out and let it arrive on some page or other. Again, life is not boring, and , from what I've been reading, it never has been!
Enjoy my June Marina TImes column below...i send it to you all with great love and gratitude for the chances SF is giving me to write out loud.
ENTER STAGE LEFT: A NEW COAST
Grey skies, smilin' at me
Yet again, the sun is not shining here in our new hometown, and I have to say, I like it like this.
First of all, it reminds me that I am not living in L.A., where there is rarely a day with anything but perfect blue skies and, after a while, such crystalline perfection gets even the doughtiest spirit down. I used to feel ashamed if my spirit did not match the optimistic energies of that blue sky, which made me feel even worse.
But the gracious dame San Francisco has the good sense to remind us that no one is perfect and that even the country’s most beautiful city has its days when dressing down is the perfect choice.
Veils become her. She looks gorgeous in the soft, misty grey that cloaks her this morning. And it makes me feel human. This is a town that measures us all on a human scale; something about the surrounding water reminds us of where we come from, and that we all come from that same place. The bay and the ocean, ubiquitous in these parts, remind us that life is liquid and changeable, and that we are all in the swim of it, no matter what else divides us.
And where there is water, there is weather.
Weather is a topic of daily discussion around San Francisco. Its behavior, its seasonality, its moods, its rarities, its changeability, its quirks, and its countenances are all things that people here love to tell other people about. Especially if the other people are newcomers to the city, like Peter and I are.
“Oh, you’re lucky, it’s not usually like this at this time of year,” is a comment we heard a lot the sunny month after we first moved here.
“Just wait ‘til summer! That’s when we’ll have our winter!” is another remark people relish repeating.
“You don’t want to live over there in the Sunset or the Richmond. It’s foggy over there all the time! Well, mainly in the summer. But no … too much fog!” warn some.
“Just remember, when it’s 110 degrees elsewhere, here it’s nice and cold in the summer. You can take pleasure in gloating!”
“Never put away your fall/winter stuff, because you never know when it’ll be cool by the bay.”
“If it’s foggy in the morning, it usually blows away by noon.”
And my favorite: “Give it a minute and it’ll change.” How true.
So I’ve decided that weather is just another character in the ongoing comedy-drama that is San Francisco; an ever-present character that never leaves the stage and influences all the other characters in subtle, unscripted ways. I love this weather for its very presence. I seek it out. I speak to it. I am its sister. I feel it and want it to guide me because it is so powerful, so true, so very itself, there is no other way but to relax in its powerful presence, go with it wherever it wants to take me. Sunshine is just one of its guises. Its faces are many, but I like surprises.
Earthquakes are part of the weather conversation, and this scares me. Our little family of four have “provisioned up” and discuss where we shall meet if we need to find each other when “it” happens – because I feel surely it will happen sooner than later. But what better testimony to the power of this special star in our midst – this weather – than its skill to upset the very ground we walk on: change the perspective, upset the norm, change peoples’ orientation to their own lives.
Take stage and shake things up? Stars do that. They have that particular power. And here in this town, weather is, at the very least, a leading player.
Come hell, high water, sunshine, or quake, I am a fan.Before moving to San Francisco, Manhattan was Evalyn Baron’s long-time home. Actress, director, teacher, she worked on Broadway and at regional theaters all over the country, thanks to a bustling TV and radio career that she is happy to abandon in order to finally get some writing done.
First of all, it reminds me that I am not living in L.A., where there is rarely a day with anything but perfect blue skies and, after a while, such crystalline perfection gets even the doughtiest spirit down. I used to feel ashamed if my spirit did not match the optimistic energies of that blue sky, which made me feel even worse.
But the gracious dame San Francisco has the good sense to remind us that no one is perfect and that even the country’s most beautiful city has its days when dressing down is the perfect choice.
Veils become her. She looks gorgeous in the soft, misty grey that cloaks her this morning. And it makes me feel human. This is a town that measures us all on a human scale; something about the surrounding water reminds us of where we come from, and that we all come from that same place. The bay and the ocean, ubiquitous in these parts, remind us that life is liquid and changeable, and that we are all in the swim of it, no matter what else divides us.
And where there is water, there is weather.
Weather is a topic of daily discussion around San Francisco. Its behavior, its seasonality, its moods, its rarities, its changeability, its quirks, and its countenances are all things that people here love to tell other people about. Especially if the other people are newcomers to the city, like Peter and I are.
“Oh, you’re lucky, it’s not usually like this at this time of year,” is a comment we heard a lot the sunny month after we first moved here.
“Just wait ‘til summer! That’s when we’ll have our winter!” is another remark people relish repeating.
“You don’t want to live over there in the Sunset or the Richmond. It’s foggy over there all the time! Well, mainly in the summer. But no … too much fog!” warn some.
“Just remember, when it’s 110 degrees elsewhere, here it’s nice and cold in the summer. You can take pleasure in gloating!”
“Never put away your fall/winter stuff, because you never know when it’ll be cool by the bay.”
“If it’s foggy in the morning, it usually blows away by noon.”
And my favorite: “Give it a minute and it’ll change.” How true.
So I’ve decided that weather is just another character in the ongoing comedy-drama that is San Francisco; an ever-present character that never leaves the stage and influences all the other characters in subtle, unscripted ways. I love this weather for its very presence. I seek it out. I speak to it. I am its sister. I feel it and want it to guide me because it is so powerful, so true, so very itself, there is no other way but to relax in its powerful presence, go with it wherever it wants to take me. Sunshine is just one of its guises. Its faces are many, but I like surprises.
Earthquakes are part of the weather conversation, and this scares me. Our little family of four have “provisioned up” and discuss where we shall meet if we need to find each other when “it” happens – because I feel surely it will happen sooner than later. But what better testimony to the power of this special star in our midst – this weather – than its skill to upset the very ground we walk on: change the perspective, upset the norm, change peoples’ orientation to their own lives.
Take stage and shake things up? Stars do that. They have that particular power. And here in this town, weather is, at the very least, a leading player.
Come hell, high water, sunshine, or quake, I am a fan.Before moving to San Francisco, Manhattan was Evalyn Baron’s long-time home. Actress, director, teacher, she worked on Broadway and at regional theaters all over the country, thanks to a bustling TV and radio career that she is happy to abandon in order to finally get some writing done.
a Times a division of Northside Publication
Labels: Momma Letters SF
Sunday, June 05, 2011
The Princess and the Fibroid
We’ve decided to name it. We’ve not thought of quite the right name just yet, but we do think it deserves a name all its own, since it has become such a living, breathing, palpable* presence in our lives over the past few days.
*Blatant, conspicuous, obvious, overt, flagrant, tangible , and though it may not be quite clear, it is plainly present . Funny how fear makes you hyper-aware of every little thing, like the exact meaning of the words you choose to use when writing about the things that scare you. This nameless, large, white roundish mass inside my body does scare me. She has made me sit up and take notice, and I do believe she is a “she”, rather than an “it.”
I mean, it’s not like she’s located in my liver. In that case, it would more definitely be a “he”, because men drink more than women, and are always getting liver diseases and dying of painful yellowing jaundices, after their long careers of drinking. I don’t know the percentages, but if this fibroidal thingy of mine was on the liver, she would be a “he.” If she’d made her grand entrance in the prostate, there’d be no question, and I would find some jaunty, man-about-town moniker for it, like Casey or Chad. Chad the prostate fibroidal thingy! Or if she’d shown up in the intestinal tract? Wouldn’t “Henry” or “Marvin” be just right? Something workmanlike and useful, indicating the everyday usefulness of the internal organ thus attached to? No. This new close companion of mine is definitely my new BFF, and she is a girl.
Why do I consider her a new best friend forever, I bet you’re wondering.
Is this some sort of Stockholm Syndrome spin-off? This surprising intruder is holding me hostage and in order to bargain for my freedom, I am falling in love with it? No. Not exactly that. Because it will free me, one way or the other, and it will have nothing at all to do with how we feel about each other. First of all, she cannot feel, she can only be present and grow. That’s all she knows, since I am assuming she has no actual brain. But of course, what is a brain? And what do I know about a brain’s actual nature and power? But I digress.
She will be my new BFF because even if she is a kindly visitor, and her stay inside my body is a short –lived one, she will , in some deep way, be with me forever because she has changed me forever. Because of her, I am thinking about heretofore- unthinkable things up close - illness, death, pain and suffering - and I am learning much. I am on the brink of learning it all – knowing it all – embracing it all – as a result of my encounter with her. One never forgets a truly brilliant teacher. Never.
We are in process with this surprise visitor, and all the right things are being done. As far as her ultrasound goes - yes, this guest inside my body has already had her photo taken - she shows no signs of anything to be truly terrified of . Nothing turned bright red when they flooded her with color to see if cancer is present (cancers, I learned, need a lot of blood to live and grow, and when ultra-sounded with color show up bright red and orange. My Best Fibroid Forever showed up large and white. Still, she must be biopsied and examined and cleared of all possible hiding menace.
So, like the Princess and the pea that kept her up nights, my best fibroid friend has been keeping me awake nights, contemplating death, illness, pain and suffering, and so I've decided to meditate on these very subjects more, read what Buddhist teachers have to say about them, and get right down to the nitty-gritty: we all die some time and every moment we live, we are in fact that much closer to living no more...at least in this particular body. And I have decided that even the pain and terror - as part of my life as they are - must be embraced and loved.
*****************************TIME PASSES*****************************
Fiona the Fabulous Fibroid is dead! Long Live Fiona! She has been successfully removed, and all signs indicate she is of no danger, and never has been. I wait for final word on the various biopsies, but my wonderful doctor assures me all is well, and I feel much relieved. i went into St. Francis Hospital three days ago, went under general anesthesia, before doing so made great pals with all the staff of nurses in the Come and Go Unit (Paul calls it the In and Out Burger Unit), and was taken home by Peter very shortly after it all began. The removal took far less time than they anticipated. I only vomited once, as the anesthesia wore off. And the pictures Dr. Milkman gave me of Fiona show a clear, pink and healthy uterus, after Fiona is removed. I am told my uterus looks exactly the way a healthy woman's-my-age should look. Yet, still, I contemplate the eternal verities, and shall continue to do so for some time to come....maybe even from now on.
And thus, Fiona will live on. I love what she has taught me.
Meanwhile, I have another column in this month's Marina TIMES - about San Francisco's weather - and have been asked to contribute regularly. I came to SF to write. So, you betcha! COntribute? Oh my yes....so stay tuned!
*****************************TIME PASSES*****************************
Fiona the Fabulous Fibroid is dead! Long Live Fiona! She has been successfully removed, and all signs indicate she is of no danger, and never has been. I wait for final word on the various biopsies, but my wonderful doctor assures me all is well, and I feel much relieved. i went into St. Francis Hospital three days ago, went under general anesthesia, before doing so made great pals with all the staff of nurses in the Come and Go Unit (Paul calls it the In and Out Burger Unit), and was taken home by Peter very shortly after it all began. The removal took far less time than they anticipated. I only vomited once, as the anesthesia wore off. And the pictures Dr. Milkman gave me of Fiona show a clear, pink and healthy uterus, after Fiona is removed. I am told my uterus looks exactly the way a healthy woman's-my-age should look. Yet, still, I contemplate the eternal verities, and shall continue to do so for some time to come....maybe even from now on.
And thus, Fiona will live on. I love what she has taught me.
Meanwhile, I have another column in this month's Marina TIMES - about San Francisco's weather - and have been asked to contribute regularly. I came to SF to write. So, you betcha! COntribute? Oh my yes....so stay tuned!
Labels: SF life
