Thursday, January 15, 2015
Try to do some serious writing in a m.
Get train to White Plains and am there a bit early and find a place to sit and read more of the Isherwood book about his guru. Here is the title: “My Guru and His Disciple.” Something about the title, or even the concept, put me off. But the writing is really quite wonderful. It isn’t fair that someone should write so well.
While sitting there makes calls on cell phone.
Talk to Gwill. He’s having trouble with his knee and it looks like he isn’t coming. Drat. I am having trouble with MY knee and thought I might have to do some explaining about why the apartment is in such disarray. (A lot of housekeeping chores I am just not, presently, agile enough to take on.)
Gwill was coming on Tuesday. I had plans for us. The Oyster place at Grand Central… A trip to Brooklyn to see part of Roger’s recording project… Doing some foodie stuff that Gwill likes to do. Well, damn.
Jane picks me up and we go to La Manda. Didn’t know if they would be serving. It is still so early. But we sit at our usual booth and then kids. The grandkids, maybe even the great grandkids of the owner, take the booth next to ours and all serenity is lost. The overactive kids, their shouting parents… The booth sways back and forth with all of the activity and the shouting (not in anger, just general conversation) brings to mind scenes from “Raging Bull.” So funny. They are shouting and sharing a pizza big as a manhole cover.
Doesn’t matter. Family place. The food really quite good and we are careful, because of their ample servings, to split an entree, in order not to have to take food with us.
Next project is running an errand and Jane has the car radio set to a station that is unfamiliar to me. She says it is a station she thinks I might like. They’re playing Britten’s “Sinfonia di Requiem” and when we arrive at the mall I want to ask if I can sit in the car and listen but don’t because that wouldn’t be…hmm…bad form.
Am recalling however, years ago when a choreographer used this piece and fit it to a setting of Synge’s “Riders to the Sea” and called it “Threnody.” The orchestration was so much larger than the number that would go into the smallish pit that things got passed around to other instruments. Odd effect.