Michael’s Play (Part 1)

 

Warning - contains material that may be considered sexist by some disturbed individuals who should skip to Part II where the offensive content is broader in scope.

PART 1

In 30 minutes the door to the theater will open. For now, I stand on the sidewalk somewhere in Hollywood, beaten down by the summer heat and glare and semi-asphyxiated by the afternoon rush hour traffic.  As I wait there are no less than 3 emergency vehicles and 4 police cars with deafening horns and sirens, that try to battle their way through the congestion.  It seems obvious that if these first responders ever make it to their destination they will have damaged more property and killed more people than there’s any hope of saving.

Soon I am joined by Michael’s friend Brad (often referred to by Michael as BE-RAD) and a woman so striking that I may have said out loud, “Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus”.  I was told by my mother when I was about 10 that this phrase originated in 1897 when a young girl name Virginia wrote a letter to the New York Sun newspaper asking if Santa Claus was real.  This created a white-knuckle moment for the paper’s readers when they saw that the response was to be an editorial written by Francis Church, known to all as a hardened cynic and atheist who had little patience for superstitious beliefs.  Evidently the little girl’s letter found a soft spot and Church’s sweet response became the most reprinted editorial in the English language.

The woman standing next to B-rad was named Nina who had at least partial roots in India. In addition to being beautiful, warm and friendly, she wore an exotic ensemble suitable for taking an audience with a maharajah.  After the most pleasant conversation I’ve ever experienced she bought me an ice coffee.  I was no longer aware of any traffic, toxic fumes and horrendous noise but I was so enthralled I began to stammer like Ralph Kramden.  Fortunately, B-rad was there to take up the slack.  Mind you he’s wearing threadbare jeans and T-shirt that look as though he’d just installed a toilet.  All of which is topped off with an Arlo Guthrie hairdo exploding out from under a battered relic of a baseball cap.

B-rad:  (Having given her outfit a good looking over), “Are you in the play?”

Nina:  “No, I came to see a friend of mine who is in it.”

B-rad:  “I see, so you just always go around looking fabulous.”