Tell me a secret, I'll only tell a few folks...

My husband will tell you, I'm no good at keeping a secret.
I always give gifts the moment I buy them because I can't wait. Usually I manage to wrap a present but inevitably there's comes along a good reason to give it to the lucky person now!
I usually give away the punchline to any joke I'm trying to tell.
I can't handle the suspense.
Couple that with Marc's tendency to be very snoopy and keeping something hush-hush is nigh on to impossible.
I've never been able to surprise Marc with anything.
Some Christmas mornings, I end up throwing him his presents because he's already figured out what he's getting.
Even now, I'm writing this as I prepare to pick him up for a surprise party his co-workers at Xactware are throwing him for his retirement.
I figure by the time I get him there and return, I can hit send and there'll be no harm.
I've known now for a couple of weeks and it's been tough for me.
I had to remember to delete emails he might see and text messages.
I couldn't share with him random thoughts I was having about the day and time.
I had to invent a little story about my grandson's preschool graduation so I would be able to persuade Marc to be at the right place at the right time and day. I felt bad about fibbing to him.
(Any of you who know Marc understand how hard it is to get him to be anywhere on time and especially if he doesn't understand the reason.)
I think this one might surprise him.
The people putting it together have been stellar.
He told me yesterday nobody at work had mentioned a good-bye lunch or anything.
I just sat there not saying anything.
It will all be over in a couple of hours and then I can relax.
Life can go back to normal with one alteration.
I'm not agreeing to keep any more secrets, ever.

'Spamalot' is hilarious, outrageous, still relevant

King Arthur of Britain and company

A few good men

"It's only a flesh wound" guy and Arthur

SPAMALOT; Grant Theatre; 1575 S. State St., Salt Lake City; book and lyrics by Eric Idle; music by John Du Prez and Eric Idle; directed by Jamie Rocha Allan; musical direction by Michael G. Leavitt; May 17-June 9; 7:30 p.m.; running time 2 hours

SALT LAKE CITY — Hilarious. Outrageous. Pretty out there.
The spoof of Camelot and Broadway musicals everywhere, the production of "Spamalot" at the Grand Theatre, is absolute sweet escapism.
The story is familiar in the way that family stories tell the "absolute truth" of what happened with a little exaggeration and humor.
It's offbeat, fairly naughty and bold.
(Don't go if you don't have a generous sense of humor. All bets are off with this show.)
King Arthur of Britain is played by David Hanson, riding confidently onto the stage on his nonexistent steed, accompanied by his right-hand man and faithful servant, Patsy (played masterfully by Scott Butler), who is clicking coconuts together to make the horse noise.
Arthur is looking for men to serve as his Knights of The Roundtable and finds a handful of men including Sir Robin played by Britty Marie, Sir Dennis Galahad, played by Jake Trumbo, Sir Bedevere, played by Stephen Sherman, and Sir Lancelot, played by Trevor B. Dean.

King Arthur of Britain explains who he is to

The Lady of the Lake and girlfriends

He finds the beautiful Lady of the Lake, played by Olivia Custodio, charming, lovely and his soulmate (except her name is Guenivere, uh oh).
He sets off on a quest to find the Holy Grail and along the way he meets the scary Knights of Ni (led by Tristan B. Johnson), Tim the Enchanter (Carson Kohler) and hears the Voice of God (Dee-Dee Darby-Duffin).
Those who loved the original 1975 Monty Python Spamalot film will enjoy revisiting the strange people and strange situations which include the soft cuddly white rabbit who ultimately tears off the head of a soldier, and the wagon full of dead men with "Not Dead Fred" among them.
Familiar signature songs, "Run Away," "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life," and "I'm All Alone" are well done.
Arthur and the Lady of the Lake sing "The Song That Goes Like This" with heart and passion.
The diva's lament is woeful as a very angry Lady of the Lake realizes she's been bypassed in the story.
"Whatever happened to my part?" she demands.
If you're already a Spamalot fan, this is for you. If you're not yet a fan, here's a chance to see why this musical won Best Musical on Broadway in 2005 and launched the careers of several comics who played in it.
It's a classic born in this 100 years.
Just be aware that the scenes with the gay prince and Sir Lancelot and the male ensemble are somewhat shocking — even for today.
But it's all meant in fun.
The songs, the dances, the action and the dialogue is all done with precise timing.
The cast expressions are delightful to watch.
The costuming and the sets and props are clever and unique.
It's totally enjoyable.

A courageous lady

Right now, today, playing at the Broadway Centre Theater in inner Salt Lake is a movie called "The Judge."
It's the story of a bold, brave lady in Palestine, Kholoud al-Faqih, who sits as a judge in the Sharia court dealing with domestic issues.
She's wise, patient and thoughtful and she's the first woman ever to sit on the court. Ultimately she wants to be a chief justice. She's a problem for the patriarchy.
She's been a judge now for years, working in a world that has only respected the minds of men for centuries.
Women? They let their emotions get in the way, says one grey-haired gentleman who clearly dismisses the women who are on the earth to bear children and serve their husbands.
His opinions reflect those of much of the culture, people who are surprised when their case comes before a female judge.
Fortunately, Kholoud's father and mother believed in her education, arming her for success with schooling.
They recognized that she needed the means to care for herself.
So she became a lawyer and she studied and learned.
She took the test required for judgeship and passed.
Then she began mentoring others.
For years now she has parceled out justice to women seeking divorce from an abusive husband, required the husband to provide support, protected women from reprisals.
She's a mother, a wife (to a husband who also is a lawyer and a best friend), a trail blazer and a remarkable example of someone who want to effect change.
It's a story captured on film by Erika Cohn in the courtroom, in Kholoud's home, in the Palestinian neighborhoods and on the streets.
Cohn interviewed Judge Kholoud and her family, her husband, her associates and her teacher (who is actually opposed to women sitting on the court).
She skillfully captures the Islamic culture, the people, the frustrations, the friendships and the kinds of mountains Kholoud is trying to climb.
Here is a film that ought to get plenty of exposure and Kholoud deserves a hero's respect as she breaks ground for women while serving justice and honor.
Here is the trailer: https://www.thejudgefilm.com/

On and on we go...

The movie with everybody in it

I can't say I wasn't warned about the new Avengers movie: Infinity War.
I had been told that somebody dies and I hoped it wasn't the one guy I care about.
What I hadn't been told is that the dying is a constant.
People get stabbed (through and through), people get scrunched, people get smashed and people die, again and again.
It's really a horrible movie, one that I regret seeing.
Right off the bat, I was bored with the noise, the brutality, the agony and the dying.
On the way in to the theater, I overheard a lady saying, "I'm never seeing one of those again!"

Call me cranky

 

Did she mean our movie? Surely not.
I'd heard nothing but rave reviews on this show, even from my eldest son who saw it twice in a row.
I'd been told that no one could talk about it much because it would give too much away.
I'm beginning to suspect no one wants to admit the truth.
It's awful...and lots of characters die, usually in a painful, twisted way.
I muddled through the chaos and the death and the mayhem by making grocery lists in my head.
Then I made shopping lists and packing lists.
And I checked my watch.
People were dying and the time was only slowly marching by.
At the end, we all waited to see if there was an Easter egg that would shed some light on the senselessness.
That too was an endless wait.
I've never seen a longer crawl.
And when  it finally gave way to a meaningless crash and phone call, I didn't find any satisfaction.
It was still a stupid, pointless, depressing film.
Anyone good for a march to the theater to get our money back?

Social Insecurity

Let me say right out, Social Security has been good to us.
We've been paid benefits that have made our financial life a working program.
Social Security has been up to speed on every aspect of our working lives and even ahead of the game in several instances.
So there's really no reason that now, as we approach the day when we'll be depending on Medicare, I'm really nervous.
I fear making a big mistake, missing a critical deadline or committing an unintentional felony.
There's been so much hype about signing up before time runs out that I'm paranoid. Marc's insurance has allowed us to extend past our 65th birthdays so it feels like we're living dangerously.
(Also our insurance is so good that I fear we'll really, really miss it.)
Now he's retiring and everything may change.
I've taken a number of steps to try and prepare for stepping off the shore into the river so you'd think I could relax.
I have a lady who says we can pretty much stay in the same zone with our insurance needs - same doctors, hospital system, etc., but I've yet to get an actual cost.
I've learned a bit about Part B and took the forms over to the Social Security office this morning to register.
Now I suppose I wait a bit.
But it feels like waiting to see the principal after trouble in class.
When I stood in line at the officer and waited for my number to be called, my heart rate jumped.
When I handed the guy at Window 3 my papers, I felt anxiety.
When he smiled and said, "Oh good. You have all the information ready," I was pleasantly surprised.
Now I suppose I just put in a little more time and I'll be good to go.
Somebody will call me and tell me what happens next, the bottom line.
Is there really any reason to be afraid?

'Hamilton' makes me check the history books

Marc didn't miss a beat when his co-worker offered him a pair of tickets to "Hamilton" months ago.
He called me up and minutes later $350 was on its way to the co-worker's bank account.
We've been interested in the show since it hit Broadway and especially since our granddaughter in California put it on her "don't miss" list.
Marc has been streaming the music into his headphones for weeks.
Another granddaughter has been drumming the rap songs onto our kitchen table for a while now.
So yesterday was the big day.
Marc took a day off work. We took the TRAX and headed off into the rain and snow to see the show.

Hamilton and King George

It was astounding.
The energy, the beat and the cleverly interwoven tale of the guy I've only known as the face of our ten-dollar bill was fascinating.
The songs are engaging.
The choreography is of the kind that makes the audience gasp and pay strict attention so as not to miss anything.
"What'd I Miss?" is a catchy tune that makes you want to hear it over and over but then so is "My Shot" and "The Schuyler Sisters" and "Washington on Your Side."
The King of England is so very funny in his reactions to this upstart America trying to go it alone.
We loved the story and the characters.
It's lively and bold (in a couple of places, very bold) and it's illuminating.
Alexander Hamilton did a lot for our country, more than we tend to think.
He was brilliant and hard-working and visionary.
And he had a complicated life.

Thomas Jefferson back from Paris

Surprisingly, "Hamilton" is more of a love story than I expected (to the point where Jefferson walks on stage and says, "Can we get back to politics now?")
It's poignant.
It's funny.
It's witty.
And it's well written, well supported and amazingly well staged.
It's no wonder it's selling out everywhere it plays while it is a wonder that it's playing in Salt Lake.
Kudos to the far-sighted folks who made it possible by getting us a marvelous stage and house for this.

Taxing on the brain

Pop quizzes were never my favorite in school and they are still not — in grown-up life.
I can't think of the answer when I'm surprised and then I spend the rest of the next few days trying to get the answer to surface.
I wouldn't be any good on a game show like Jeopardy. I'd come up with the answer four days later in the middle of the night.
So when I had two of these kind of exercises on the same day this week, it made for a difficult day.
First, I had an appointment to change a long-standing insurance policy so I wouldn't have to pay any more premiums and get some cash right now.
In theory, I only had to come in and sign a bunch of papers to seal the deal.
It turned out to be more like buying a house. There were LOTS of papers and most of them required reading them first.
Then, after tedious phone calls between the agent and the company, they discovered we had the wrong papers so I had to return and start over.
This set of papers had questions like when was I diagnosed with a condition that I have had for 30 years but is currently in remission. When and why? And what was the name of each of the medications I took over the years?
What are the doctors names? And the associates who looked at me? Where are their offices and what are their phone numbers?
I was expected to know my family medical history. I understand the reasons for that but do I know when my mother was diagnosed with lung and then bone cancer and when she died? What about my father? What did he die of and when? (Give me a minute and I'll go look at his headstone.)
Who treated him and for what? (I'll need more paper)
From there I went to our tax lady to finish our taxes.
I needed to fill in some blanks for trips we'd taken from whence I did a published story and repairs we'd made to the house.
Now, I'm basically a detail person and I keep receipts and notes but I failed to remember that a new T-line copper pipe from the water softener to the outside line is tax deductible.
I needed a receipt from the fellow who refinished the floor in the foyer.
When did we do that? What was the exact cost?
How many miles did we drive to church each week? Did I include driving the missionaries around to shop?
What did I spend on parking when I went somewhere to do a review?
I panic and sweat.
If I don't list something, our refund isn't what it could be.
If I guess on these questions, maybe I'll go to jail for getting the answer wrong.
I don't want to be dishonest but I don't want to give away hard-earned money either.
It's stressful enough that when it's done and we're basically intact, I just shove it all away, out of sight and mind and try to forget about it.
Yeah, yeah, that'll work.