In the past week or so, I've gotten back in touch with three old high school friends. One of them (Ryan) didn't know Sam had died, so once again I find myself staring back at someone's fresh shock and grief, juxtaposed with my current perspective of peace. It's an odd feeling. The person in question was two years my junior and was part of the Paul/Marte/Colin/Clive crowd (forgive me for the dozens of kids I just left out of that list - I don't have all day), and we weren't super close, but we were part of the same California Reagan-era collective teen middle-finger brigade. EDIT: If we'd actually had a club called the Reagan-Era Collective Teen Underground Movement, our acronym could have been RECTUM.
The second person (Valerie) I knew at Aptos High before I even met Sam. Her mom was the guest director during the quarter when our regular theater teacher was on maternity leave, and directed probably the most professional production of The Crucible a high school has ever seen ('80s hairstyles aside). No politics, no bullshit - everyone auditioned and was cast on ability. Anyway, the daughter is now a mother herself (and a brilliant costume designer, if I may say so). Getting back in touch has brought back a whole different era of memory, pre-Sam. It actually gives me a more complete sense of continuity. Yes, I spent half my life with Sam, but I had a life before her, and now I have a life after her.
The third (Amy) was a mutual friend of Sam's and mine. She was Rosaline in the production of Romeo & Juliet at the Palo Alto Children's Theater of which I've spoken many times herein. The production on which I worked tech, and on which a certain slender brunette (all I could see was the top of her head) held my ladder steady while I helped put up the parachute awning for the outdoor theater. She was a fellow student at Paly, member of the drama club, and our Juliet when the drama department toured a modern mixed-race production of R&J through the Soviet Union. Amy had heard about Sam, but we'd been out of touch for awhile. She's coming out from NYC to attend the memorial for Michael Litfin, but I can't afford another flight to Cali right now, so unfortunately will miss her. I'm also going to miss my friend Konrad's wedding in NYC this May. Drat.
Tyler made it to school EVERY DAY this week, on time! :: pinch :: Yep, still awake. This may not sound like much, but it's truly the first solid week he's attended without missing a single period since the first month of school. And today he came home with a fat lip and blood all over his clothes. The school nurse had called to prepare me, explaining that another kid had hit him during an altercation in the locker room. Well that's just GREAT. Here I am, praising him every day for the achievement of getting his sleep schedule sorted out so he can attend school (a major achievement for anyone who has had a sleep disorder and/or depression), and some little shit tries to undo it by pounding him in the locker room. Now granted, early adolescence is when boys and girls both become little animals in terms of social behavior, and I know that administrative disciplinary action is underway, but come on - the universe needs to cut Tyler some slack... thank goodness he's moving into high school at a safer campus with friends next year.
Kayleigh's new thing is filling out all the subscription cards that come in her magazines - not to send in, but to collect.
... ?? ...
She's taking after-school drama, which just goes to show you the power of genetics, or something.
Saturday I have a birthday dinner for my friend Trish ("Sam" from Ordinary Angels), but before that I'm going to go caucus for Obama and then run some computer gubbins up to filmmaker buddy David Choi and his hover tank set. There's a lot to do this weekend, and then Monday we start blocking Deathtrap. Wheeeeee!