It is entirely within the realm of possibility that a person would, at 53, have a 3 year old grandchild.
However, it was much funnier when my 3 year old godson referred to my friend Marilyn (five years older than me) as Grandma, than it was when he turned around five minutes later, after I’d stopped laughing and called me Grandma as well.
I spent two days teaching him my name. We practiced. We even practiced M’s name. By the time I left, after spending two full days with him, playing cars, monsters, jumping jacks, going for car rides, to a wedding and a full blown temper tantrum, he got it. I was Joey, she was Maradin and for a brief and shining moment, really, I was ‘enry ‘iggins and he was Eliza Doolittle.
I spoke to his mom briefly today. “He loves his toys,” she said. “He held up the stuffed monster you got him and said ‘Granma gave this to me.’”
Yeah. It’s all good. Humbling. But it’s good. So for today, if only for him, I am OnlytheGranma.
I went on an audition this week, a casting call on craigslist for a print ad for cookies. I’m pretty crazy about cookies, so in the spirit of this whole reinvention thing, I took the bait.
I sat in a cramped anteroom for twenty minutes as a handful of people went in but oddly, no one came back out. I was a little suspicious, I always am – daddy was a con man, after all, and okay, I’ve been guilty of a bit of the bait & switch as well - but I try to dismiss that innate prejudice and just show up.
It was exactly the kind of scam I warned tadpole actors about when I was an agent. The “casting director” talked fast, shuffled papers and running a vocal version of three card monte, offered to get me work immediately. Immediately after I paid $99 for headshots they’d shoot themselves, right then, right that very second, c’mon, c’cmon when do you want to start, let’s go, let’s get things moving… Read the rest of this entry »
I’m tired, so this will be short.
Big Edie called Thursday complaining of fevers, congestion, aches & what sounded generally like the flu. I convinced her to call her doctor. He agreed to see her the next morning because, at 79, the flu is nothing to sneeze at. She sent the Italian out for some Over The Counter flu meds and next thing I knew he’s calling saying “She’s bad. We need you now, kid.” Thirty minutes later I’m looking at her in bed. She’s under the covers, looking confused and tired.
There were damp towels all over. Read the rest of this entry »