Sometimes, I have difficulty deciding which I like better, comedy or great music. Each has, in its own way, a magical capability to improve my mood and state of mind. A couple of days ago, I was listening to a symphony, Mussorgsky-Ravel’s Pictures at an Exhibition, on my ancient but superb sounding stereo system. My mind was totally consumed with the power and majesty of composition. I closed my eyes and let the notes take me through the Great Gates of Kiev, totally engrossed. I probably was a Russian Cossack in a past life. If you asked me at that moment, I would have told you that music was my favorite and most enjoyable pastime.
Then I went to see a comedy play at the Gilroy Grange Hall #398. I have no idea what the #398 means. I’m sure there are not 398 Grange Halls in Gilroy, or in California, or maybe the world, for that matter. But that’s its name. Anyway, Rod and Marion Pintello produce the most enjoyable plays there several times each year. Their most recent offering was “Avenue Q,” a musical farce that generated more laughter than one normally hears in the most successful Broadway show. If you live within a few miles of Grange Hall #398, you probably heard the uncontrolled laughter. The cast of 11 seemed to be having as much fun as the audience.
Each cast member was a puppeteer and was completely visible to the audience as he or she manipulated his or her puppets. (We really need a single word for he and she, like “hesh.” And maybe one like “hir” for his and her.) Back to the story. Lady M, our granddaughter and I all admitted that, at first, our attention was drawn toward the live cast-member puppeteers. But halfway through the first song, we were all concentrating on the puppets as if they were real, live people.
The songs were hysterical. Songs like, “Everyone’s a Little Bit … (you’ll have to ask someone who saw the show to tell you the rest of that title) and “The Internet,” had the audience holding their sides to keep them from splitting from laughter. By the way, the motto of the Pintello’s undertaking is, “There’s something funny going on here.” Clever. And so true. If you are interested in future performances. contact the Pintellos at
pi******@ch*****.net
.
So, it seems I had a great couple of weeks for my two most enjoyable pastimes. Now, it’s time to settle into my third, reading. And there is only one place in our fair city to pickup a great historical novel – my favorite – or whatever tickles your fancy – that’s a good oldie, huh? – and settle in for a long, rainy evening: Booksmart.
If you don’t frequent Morgan Hill’s classic bookstore, you’re missing something special. If I called Booksmart quaint, it would probably scare lots of folks away. But it is, like a return to the mid-20th century with a warm, but modern, upbeat feeling. If the wizards of our planning commission do anything to disrupt this city treasure – like building a parking garage – well, tar and feathers might not be a strong enough response.
Besides listening to great vinyl, attending a most enjoyable performance, and reading my newest novel, I did watch a few hours of the Olympics. Sorry to say, watching folks skate in circles makes me dizzy (why don’t they get dizzy?) or skiing cross country for hours didn’t hold my attention for long.
Seems like an awful lot of show business folks are movin’ on these days. Going back to my thoughts on comedy, a comedian who brought back great memories to me was Sid Caesar who died, recently, at the age of 91. How great would it be to think that you spent most of your 91 years making millions of people laugh. I was satisfied getting a chuckle out of Lady M when she said “Crank up the television a little louder.” And I, without use of my hearing appliances, thought she said, “Frank Sinatra is sitting on the counter” … well, “make ’em laugh, make ’em laugh, make ’em laugh.”
Henry “Hank” Miller is a retired rocket scientist.