I have been a weepy mess, tearing up several times a day, ever since Captain Chesley B. “Sully” Sullenberger ditched a US Airways jet safely in the Hudson River last Thursday. The cinema-cheesy symbolism went straight to my core and I am convinced that the United States of America is an airplane and Barack Obama is the cool, calm Carey Grant/Sidney Poitier/Jimmy Stewart type genius pilot who is going to save us all. Or not. Everything makes me tear up. Boats. Airplanes. People asking me what kind of coat I have because they need to buy a warm one before they leave for Washington, DC for the Inauguration. Twitters from friends who are on their way to DC or already in DC. Martin Luther King Day. Fresh snow. Civil Rights Movement veterans on CNN. My husband telling me Obama chose a Nobel prize winning physicist as his energy secretary. Listening to “This American Life”. Miley Cyrus in a grown-up red dress. Malia and Sasha Obama taking pictures of Miley Cyrus. My 8-year-old rolling her eyes because I am tearing up because I am watching both my kid and Malia Obama mouth the words to the Disney tween songs they both know by heart. Reading the Inauguration Parade lineup that includes both the Crow Nation of Montana and the Brooklyn Music and Arts Program. I’m just sitting here with my seatbelt on looking out the window at the water putting all my faith and hope in the pilot as my life flashes before my eyes and I pray for a safe landing: Ourfatherwhoartinheavenhallowedbethynamethykingdomcomethywillbedone-onearthaseitisinheavengiveusthisdayourdailybreadandforgiveusourtrespasses-asweforgivethosewhotrespassagainstusandleadusnotintotemptation-anddeliverusfromevil-AMEN
Tag: DC
Went to Clown Lab…
I am always conflicted; playing with my child vs housework. Writing vs performing. Exercising vs volunteering at My Kid’s school. Creativity vs getting a real job and on and on and on. So it wasn’t out of character for me when Jef started to talk about being in the theatrical space, I caught my mind wandering and had to bring it back into the room three times. The first time I realized I had gone off topic was when my mind came back into the room after I learned that Saturday’s workshop is 3-6 instead of 11-2 as I had thought. This lead to a working out of numerous scenarios for My Kid’s weekend schedule as I had made tentative plans with another mother to take the kids to see a movie on Saturday afternoon. The second time I lost concentration was when in the course of developing an improv I fell into a bit of a reverie about Bush falling through a trap-door at the swearing in ceremony and Obama coming down from the sky in an airline pilot’s uniform… The third time my mind wandered away from the studio work at hand, I thought about a handbag I used to own and wondered if I could use any found object to develop a relationship with up to and including grief and loss and weather that would be a good clown piece for me to work up. I’m tired and wide awake from several cups of coffee and several cups of green tea and my mind is still full of meaning of life, good work, and competency vs heroism thoughts that arise from the safe landing of a disabled plane in the Hudson River and timely rescue of all the passengers by local boat crews and the preparations for the upcoming Obama Presidential Inauguration. There’s a clown lab scheduled for Tuesday, but I will not go. I already know that my head and my heart will be in Washington, DC where I would rather be at this historic time. I moved from Montana for a post-graduate job in my congressman’s office on Capitol Hill and I auditioned for Ringling Bros and Barnum & Bailey Clown College in the center ring of the arena between shows while the Circus played Washington DC. I hope to spend Tuesday evening drinking champagne at home with my husband and watching the recap of the Inauguration Day on TV.
Michelle Obama
I suppose if my husband was running for president I would let professionals groom me. As it is I’m ready to go to the salon of the mom of a kid who goes to my school and let her have at it, even though her six-year-old looked like she cut her own bangs. (Her mom cuts hair for a job, what are the chances?…)
Watching the speech I kept trying to memorize phrases for later reference, but in the end, my favorite part came after the speech when Malia and Sasha came on stage and waved to the video feed of Obama and said “Hi Daddy!” into the microphone. Tall stately Michelle Obama bent down to talk to her daughters. (Physical Theatre–stronger than words)
At the YMCA swimming pool we were getting ready to leave and I said to the other mother, “I think we’re missing Michelle Obama’s speech”
“They work out a lot!” was her reply.
I was preoccupied with the visual. That’s what a successful professional woman looks like.
Once upon a time I wanted to be a successful woman like that. I saw some of them when I interned at the DNC as a college student and returned after graduation to work for my congressman. I thought maybe I should go to law school. But, most women I met did not look like Michelle Obama. Most women did not carry themselves that tall. They wore suits to work, but their jobs were in reality sucky clerical jobs, or they had the titles but the job they got through connections (It was Washington, DC) was an uncomfortable fit. I never found a role model like Michelle Obama was said to be in the pre-speech DNC film. It would have been nice. I wore suits and carried high heel pumps in my shoulder strapbriefcase while I commuted in running shoes with white socks over my nylons. But, once I got do work, I didn’t know why I was there outside of a vague aspiration to do good work and be the kind of person who wore Anne Taylor suits to work every day.
Michelle Obama has a lot more going on.