The MAGIC OF LA LA LAND

So first I went shopping, like a regular person-- not that I'm not a regular person, but my life for the past few weeks since moving here has been a different kind of Drama, coming back as a veritable teenager, what with putting my apartment in order and realizing and accepting I could not do that with my life-- aided and more than abetted by my new best friend Ellen, who cannot help herself, she is just a generous soul.  We went to the shop of Diane Merrick, a quietly elegant adjunct to the Material World, Diane being a woman of exquisite taste whose jewelry, antique-y and beautiful, my Donny really much admired, coming home with a piece of it for me whenever he could afford it, and often when he couldn't.  All those rings and things are gone now, lost or stolen over the years-- amazing how long he's been gone-- except for the one I never took off my little finger, where it still sparkles, tasteful and unique, as he was.  

   I went there because I needed a pair of turquoise earrings for my grandson's Bar Mitzvah which is tomorrow, where I am being allowed to come-- it's going to be an interesting day, and as the Indians (ours) know, turquoise offers protection. Also it matches the dress I'm going to wear.

   Then we stopped in to Good Will and bought the missing chair for my bedroom, a cushion to sit in it on, and another for the living room floor, everything for $21.70 which I could have gotten them to make less but you don't hondle over Good Will.  Then we had lunch in an airy and pleasant new(I think it is) restaurant across from La Scala, where everybody used to go on a regular basis where I didn't want to go  because it makes me think of Suzie Pleschette, another gone too soon. A ton of years ago Suzie went to a Hollywood party where everybody had to perform and she got up and sang "P.S.9," the school song I'd written in the 6th grade, that Ellen knows, too, because she also went there.  So did Hal Dresner, the witty and wise writer who now lives in Oregon, I think it is, but I don't know if he sings.  It was a wonderful public school that now houses reprobates, but what doesn't, including Congress.

       It was a joyful day that made me feel very accomplished.  But I still did some rewriting for SYLVIA WHO? and as the air was filled with things getting better, so did it. 

     Ah, but yesterday was even more adorable, if a day could be adorable, especially one where a heat wave hit, which it did.  But I have no weather complaints after a winter in New York.  Then I spoke to my prized pal in New York, the smartest woman who ever went to Bryn Mawr, which is really saying something, and she very much approved the new idea of who should play Sylvia, adding that it would work because this performer is not only vulnerable, but short.  That made me laugh because this friend, besides being brilliant, is really funny, which she doesn't know, which makes it even better.  Short.  I love that.

   THEN CAME LAST EVENING, and the darling (they ARE) Italian couple I picked up in the Thai restaurant where nobody ever goes, but they were there last week speaking Italian which I can fake, and we became friend-ish, and invited them for drinks as it seemed Destino. He, Ignazio, is the assistant conductor of the LA Opera, as handsome as his wife, Debora, is lovely, and we had the best time.  We agreed that Los Angeles is a place that actually enhances the spirit if you're open to it, in spite of its reputation as -- he pronounced it the Italian way-- La La land.
     Interested, they listened to a few songs from SYLVIA(her mother's name-- more coincidenza?) and she grew teary and he was full of praise, pronouncing them joyful and saying very flattering things, being a man who really knows music which I don't, about the harmonies and the fact that with most songs you have to hear them several times to take them in and like them, but these made you happy right away.  That made me happy right away.  
    In spite of this I had a hard time falling asleep because not everything in life enhances, including lawyers and the Supreme Court but of course that is redundant. I am not talking of course of the decisions that make people happy or the bills that seem fair-- as opposed to the ones that are being put forward by our legislature or are in your mailbox.
    So there it is: the Chinese curse-- may you live in Interesting Times.  I wonder if there is a Tea Party in China.