4/24/16 Miles
Davis…Milesones
Last Thursday,
I drove into Brooklyn to see the Part II of Shakespeare’s play Henry IV. I am not about to write a critique of the
play since I did not know a breath of either Part I or II, but I was there with
Emma Tess since my beautiful brown haired daughter loves Shakespeare. The performances were by the Royal
Shakespeare Company at BAM. Sir John Falstaff
was played by Antony Sher who was spectacular as the corpulent and cowardly character. I have seen one Shakespeare play previously when
Al Pacino played Shylock in The Merchant of Venice. Lincoln was influenced by Shakespeare. One of three books on his desk while in the White
House was the works of William Shakespeare.
In the darkened theatre on both nights I let the words ease into my ears
and at times had to scrutinize the passage or sentence to make sense. There were moments when I was lost and scrambling
like slipping on slick patch of ice, but soon enough I was stable after being brought
back to where I had to be. Honestly, the
first part of IV Henry was less serious and perhaps I was better able to listen
without as many distractions. Before I
go on, let me share a famous quote from Falstaff regarding honor, “What is honour? a word. What is in that word
honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died
o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.” The first night was special for Emma and I,
we took the train from Ronkonkoma and had about an about to kill before the
start of the play. After a few minutes
walking around Brooklyn, we found a burger joint and sat down. The place was crowded. We ate and walked back to the area where BAM
is. Found the theatre and walked in and
up a steep flight of stairs which honestly would be a challenge to a Navy
Seal. Found our seats and settled
in. I was amazed how many people were
coughing and sneezing and burying their wet mucus nostrils into a napkin and
discharging as loudly as possible said contents into their soiled fabric. Taking the train into BAM or the Atlantic
terminal is easy. Transfer at Jamaica
and in a few stops you’re at the Atlantic terminal. Easy.
Getting home is a pain in the ass since the train leaves a little after
23:00. During intermission I asked an
usher how long the second act will be.
She tells me how long, and we look at the time and our watches and make
the correct estimate that we will have enough time to make the train. The play ends and we slowly make our way down
the steep steps. People are clutching the
railing for dear life as Emma and I bounce down each step between the clutchers
and make a break to the exit. We’re
free. We jog down the street, get into
the train terminal and head down to the platform and onto the train with enough
time to spare. We could have walked…The
next night I searched for tickets for Part II and paid more, better seats and
this time I was driving. We had time and
made it to BAM with time to spare, but not enough to get something to eat. I had a chocolate bar and Emma Tess had a
cookie. We found our seats. Second set of orchestra. In other words…in the back. Three elderly ladies sat behind us and one
said she’d need a hearing device. The
usher brought it to her and yet this woman chose to make comments throughout
the first act not realizing or noticing the agitated heads turning, the ssshhhh’s
and other obvious hints to shut up.
During intermission it was addressed very professionally and there was
not a peep. Emma Tess and I drove home
and make it back faster – by an hour and we didn’t have to run…it was a memorable
night and an honest discussion since there have been many changes in Emma’s
life. She regrets some. I hope she heard my message, follow your love
which for Emma Tess is photography…be the best, work hard at it, believe in
yourself.
Thank you for
reading this.
No comments:
Post a Comment