At intermission of the matinee of The Music Man, I sent a text to Jeri which said "I'm probably the only person in the world who cries through 'Wells Fargo Wagon.'"
When we got into the car after the show, we both agreed it had been a good show and that we enjoyed it. "But there are still flashbacks," Walt said, saying "Sadder but wiser girl" always got to him.
I've always thought of The Music Man as our "family show."
It was the very first "big show" that Paul ever did. He played Winthrop, the little kid who sings "Gary, Indiana." Jeri was Amarylis in that production, the girl who takes piano lessons from Marian the Librarian and joins her in singing "Good Night My Someone."
Later that same year, Paul was cast to play Winthrop again in a production at a huge amphitheater in Oakland. He stayed with friends of ours who had suggested he audition for the part during rehearsal and the show itself. When their awards ceremony came around, he was one of the kids nominated as "Best Child Actor," and won.
When he got older, he played Tommy Djilas, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, who "almost invented perpetual motion."
In his last monologue show, he did Harold Hill's song, "Trouble," and I always thought it would be funny if someday he played Harold Hill...and then later, when he was much older, Mayor Shinn, so that he could have spanned his whole life with The Music Man ... but he died first.
You'd think it would be difficult for me to see "Gary, Indiana," but it's not. There are so many cute kids who play Winthrop and the kid yesterday was adorable, so I enjoy the performance, not the memories. But when the finale of Act 1 comes on and they sing "Wells Fargo Wagon" and Winthrop has his big solo wondering if there could be "thomething thpecial jutht for me" I picture 10 year old Paul taking center stage and I just lose it every time. I sat there yesterday with tears rolling down my cheeks, trying to wipe them away before the lights came up for intermission.
For Walt, his difficult memory is the duet Harold sings with his old pal Marcellus, "Sadder but Wiser Girl" because he is remembering the high school jazz choir days when Paul and his friend Kag performed that song.
So Music Man is always a mixed bag. It is probably my favorite musical, but it is also the one that is fraught with the most memories. And what better way to spend Father's Day than seeing "the family musical"?
The show ended at 5 and we had been invited to join family at Marta's sister's house for a Father's Day barbeque. Since it was a very hot day, I didn't want to bring food to share and have it sit in a hot car for 2-1/2 hours, so we stopped for food after the show. I also took the opportunity to run to Office Max, next door to Safeway, to pick up another box for the office.
Dinner is always fun and celebrates the four dads in the group.
That would be Marta's Dad, her sister's father-in-law, Walt and Marta's brother-in-law.
So it was a good day and as we left for home, there was a gorgeous sunset in the sky.
Earlier in the day, I had stopped by Atria to deliver a gorgeous basket of red carnations I had found at Michael's for my mother. They look so real and they won't die on her, which is always a plus. She was unintentionally funny today and though on the one hand it was sad, on the other hand, I couldn't help but laugh at what happened.
I found her sitting in the hall outside the dining room, where the men--fathers and their grown up sons--were stopping by a big bin of bow ties, gift for all the fathers going to lunch. "I'm getting too old and I don't know what's going on any more," she said, as I explained to her more than once that it was Father's Day and the ties were for all the Dads.
After awhile we went to her apartment. I had her pills for next week to leave for her and I was fairly certain that if I left her sitting in the hall, she would not remember to take the flowers with her when she went back to her apartment. And I was right, because even when I reminded her to take them, her reaction was "Oh? Are those for me?"
We got to the apartment and I went to put her pills in the bathroom, where I always leave them. I saw that the previous week's pill box still had two days' worth of pills in it. It had been 3 days since I was last there and when I was there, there were two days' worth of pills not yet taken, so she hasn't been taking her pills.
I confronted her with it (which is always pointless, but somehow I need to do it). "There are two days worth of pills in there so I know you haven't been taking your pills," I said.
She got defensive and then said "OK...I'll take one NOW."
She got herself a glass of water, and two cookies and went to sit down and dutifully eat her cookies. I got her pills and handed them to her. "What are those?" she asked, and then said "Oh...do I take pills?"
I'm going to have to monitor her more closely to make sure she is taking the pills, which means going to Atria more often. But I had to admit that I got a good chuckle out of her thinking that she was doing what she was supposed to do by eating two cookies with her glass of water.