SOMEONE I KNOW IS VERY ILL

Six months ago he said he had "acute congestive heart failure."

I started to write a letter to him yesterday. Stopped -- thought it ought to be a letter to his wife, explaining why he's special, important, significant to me.

But ... I'm not on intimate terms with him ... He was never a personal friend and I don't know her. What if I sent a get well card? Flowers ? A plant? A Bonsai tree in a glazed bowl, yes -- one of those marvelous miniatures that looks like it's been growing forever and say, "That's you!"

No, he's not a tree -- people who come to him for help or advice or work are not sheltered by him. They're sent out into the world like me, to find themselves -- in his two worlds -- books and baseball. (Baseball gets top billing.)

Baseball, I don't know, but books ... I've benefited from his creative, quicksilver mind. I've watched from the sidelines -- seen him ascend high in the business world, crash, and manage to ascend again, even higher ... He's there, at the top of his field --books, and baseball, baseball and books -- even if he isn't there now, the importance of him and what he's accomplished is there.

Hey, I could sign up for his Website, be a follower. (My big eyed dancer lady face would be pretty funny looking amongst the pitchers, catchers, and coaches.)

Okay, what if I put a comment on his page at checkswing.net-- "You've been in my life as the starting point from which my sense of myself as a writer began. Been there for many years as someone who affected me, inspired me to expand where I was heading with my childlike "till death do me part" commitment to dance forever -- and write. Write more. Not fancy, just speak and talk and get the words out."

There's a very small piece of a Jade plant that's been sitting in the hall outside my office. JC bought it for me a year ago. It reminds me of the jade plant that grew outside our log cabin in Malibu, that spread, grew bigger the entire time we were there, kept expanding till it was more than ten feet tall and almost as wide as the house . Every time Ipruned with the hedge clippers, and cleared away the cuttings, any little piece that was left on the ground would take root, and grow again.

That's YOU, JA, growing, expanding, becoming more important -- you are an amazing Jade plant.

THE BIG HUNT

We watched Stewart Granger and Deborah Kerr on a big hunt, a scenically rich, fully detailed safari, "King Solomon's Mines" -- Granger. the Great White Hunter leading the African porters and the needy, strong-willed, brave, noble Kerr into darkest Africa to find her husband.

From time to time, we have our own big hunts ...

For receipts ...
Our offices aren't darkest Africa but our file cabinets (my wooden one, JC's steel one), are full of dangers like the giant boa constrictor, the ten foot alligator, the huge scorpions that suddenly, terrifyingly appear and endanger one's very being ... It's life and death -- the lever's cracked ... it's warrantied isn't it? That pin, that part -- does Sears still manufacture it?

For a tool ...
Urgently needed for a leak, an overflow, a broken rattling precarious something or other .. . tool could be in three places upstairs, anyone of nine different places downstairs ... ohLordyohGod -- we've got to have it now!

Granger's bearers in the line were toting all their life and death supplies -- he knew who was carrying what, but we look at each other with question marks in our eyes -- where did we put it? when did we use it last? -- while danger mounts.

For a contact lens ...
Freeze! Don't move! Carefully brush a sleeve, brush your front, your knees, your shoes! Pat the table! Study your coffee cup, examine the saucer -- it's there -- it has to be there --where?

Think! cries JC.
I think. I murmur --"I did stand up ..."
JC grabs the flashlight ...
I'm at the sink, patting.

He's on his knees below my chair ...
I pull the string that turns on the overhead fluorescents, grab a paper napkin. On my knees I'm patting everywhere, retracing my movements, retracing my steps, my thoughts .. did I reach for a fork, didn't I open my vitamin bottle?

A minute, two minutes ... four minutes later ...

We're patting, hunting, cleaning the floor with our hands, a small section, a larger section ... then the entire floor ... His weapon is the dustpan brush, mine is both hands sweeping, smoothing over every inch of the floor.

He says, " Did you find it?"
"No?" I reply. "And you didn't either, did you?"
We sit back down, heads hanging, dejected, mourning ...

"Oh well," I murmur sadly to myself out loud.
"Well, " he murmurs comfortingly, "You've got plenty more."

We sigh. Do the math. Quietly count the boxes, each of four contains six lenses, three pairs that could be worn for ten days or maybe two weeks, so there's maybe enough to last about five or six months.

We sigh in unison and Deborah-Em and Stewart-JC reach across the table and squeeze each other's hands. each letting the other know "I can handle it ..."

After coffee and pecan sandy cookies. I open my lens case to return the one lens I'm wearing to it's place.

"Ohmygolly goodness gracious! The lens -- it's here -- it didn't fall out!"

Granger and Kerr cast loving, bemused smiles at one another, powerfully united by the adventure they've shared.

BALLOONS READY TO POP

SARAH P.
COVER OF "TIME"

... oh dear ...

CHENEY/BUSH
TORTURE
SPYING
LYING
...more stuff to do what with ...


SOTOMAYOR
CONFIRMING
NEGATING

...& ...

MICHAEL J ...
HOMICIDE ...
SUICIDE...
BURIAL
CUSTODY
...on and on ....

&
GAY
DON'T ASK

DON'T TELL

&

MARRIAGE

... & health care ... AIG ... if I had a pin, which balloon would I bust first?

THE LURK

This person, a female in a skirt, stood outside, across the street, at the corner.

At first I thought she was someone who worked in the neighborhood. I wondered what kind of job she had, who was her employer, and why she was always there.

I saw her on a couple of rainy days. The season was changing. Her outfit changed. Then, one day when JC and I went into the A & P, I noticed her across the street.

After we'd returned home, unloaded the groceries and had a snack, I saw her on the street in the usual spot.

JC said, "She's a fan. I guess she's at the theater every night." He'd observed that she always stood across the street from the stage door.

We both noticed her across the post office, when we picked up a package there.

One day, when JC and I flagged down a taxi to take us to a meeting on 43rd Street, I saw her. I saw her outside the building after the meeting. I was shocked. Scared. How did she get there. In a taxi ? Did she get a cab to follow ours when we were heading to the meeting?

We discussed her whereabouts and made notes on a yellow pad. Was she across from the stage door last night? Was she waiting after the matinee? Was she lurking when he picked up his prescription?

It makes your heart beat faster when someone is lurking, following you, always there even when you take a subway. She was apparently following him where ever he went.

Then I saw her when he had stayed home. She was also following me ...

I called the police. They referred me to another person, who referred me to another precinct. I was told there was no law that could be applied, no way to stop the Lurk. (That's what I called her.)

We discussed it with our lawyer. He'd heard about a similar situation. He suggested we approach her. Ask her for her name.

JC tried to, but she rushed away as he approached.

His show closed. She was outside our home every day. Then suddenly, we didn't see her anymore.

More than a year later, when he was in another show, JC saw her outside the stage door. The pattern resumed. She was back outside our home.

At some point JC found out her name. He isn't sure when -- he remembers approaching her, and asking what's your name, and her saying it was JJ.

Off and on, for more than fifteen years -- JJ is outside the theater wherever JC performs. He nods and greets her sometimes -- ever since his opening night for "August: Osage County," she's been outside the Music Box Theatre.

And this winter when JC was performing in "Heroes" and "August: Osage County," JJ was outside both theaters -- for matinees as well as all the evening performances.

JC casually mentioned there were three of them nowadays -- JJ, Vera and Letty. He's given Vera and Letty the autographed pictures they've asked for when they came and saw him in "110 in the Shade" three or four times last summer. He didn't want me to worry but all three fans were at the Music Box after every show.

They're needy, not well people, and these days the not well people have become more dangerous. The fact is, the show at the Music Box closed last Sunday. But I think I saw JJ on our street on Tuesday, same spot, at new store on the corner -- and I worry.