I’ve just returned from the play “A Year of Magical Thinking” and wanted to put the ideas floating through my mind down before they left me. This will sound jumbled, but I want to get them all down.
First, at the beginning, Vanessa Redgrave (as Joan Dideon) says something like you think this won’t happen to you but it will. I thought that this had already happened to me with Dad’s death. Granted, it’s not two people, but I understand the pain of grief and sort of how it works.
Second, Vanessa Redgrave is amazing. This play was just her, on a plain stage, sitting on a chair. Different background curtains dropped throughout the play and they did some stuff with lights, but it was basically her. She told a story and kept you engrossed. Granted, I didn’t understand everything she was talking about and she jumped around a lot (Mom would have hated that), but I could follow the basic idea. And it was pretty cool.
Third, people who go to the opera seem better behaved than people who go to plays. Perhaps this is because most people who go to Broadway shows are from out of town and don’t care how they behave on vacation. Or maybe it takes more concentration to follow opera so people tend not to talk as much. (Note that people who go to the opera are not perfect and I’ve sat by folks who have talked, but it doesn’t seem to happen as much as at plays.)
Fourth, this play about death made me think about Dad a lot. I also thought about Miss Jaacks and Grandma Vodak. For some reason, these are the deaths that affected me the most. I think because Miss Jaacks and Grandma Vodak were the ones when I was youngest and Dad because he’s Dad and his was so sudden. I know, for a fact, that I am now better able to handle death because I’m older and I accept that it’s a part of life. When, it happens, there’s a grieving process, but life goes on. And it’s not so much right after it happens that it hits you, but later on, when you’d like to tell that person something and realize that you can’t.
Fifth (I’m sticking with this because it’s making me laugh), the couple sitting next to me were annoying and I’m sorry to say, but I experienced a bit of Schadenfreude. The woman kept sighing or something after just about every line in the play. I tried plugging my right ear with my finger but could still hear her. It was bugging the heck out of me. Then, the guy’s stomach rumbled, which was no big deal. Wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose or anything. But the girl had to go and pat his stomach. C’mon! Like everyone couldn’t hear her damn sighing. I wanted to slap her. But then, the two people sitting in front of them leaned forward. To those unfamiliar with theaters, this effectively blocks the view of the stage of the person sitting behind you. They were both a little bothered by it, but I wasn’t. I’m not proud to say that I enjoyed that, but I did.
Sixth, ok, there isn’t a sixth, but it just seemed cool to type. I’m getting back to my Theodore Roosevelt book.