Laws of the Universe

The view at the end of the trail I was walking.

There are very few things that are carved in stone. I know of only two.

1. When trying to calculate how long something should take, come up with your best guess, DOUBLE it – and it shouldn't take too much longer than that.
2. The time to do something is as soon as you think of it.

My recovery from knee surgery has hit a bump in the road. I was walking the dogs on Saturday when I caught my foot in a loose tree root. I took a tumble, landing full force on my new knee. I got up fine and the next day I was, remarkably, in little more pain than I had been; I thought I had dodged a bullet.

But then Monday came along and my knee was throbbing. It was a different kind of pain than I had had for the last two months, but it was just as debilitating. Tuesday brought no relief so I called the surgeon and went to see him today.

He stuck a huge needle in my knee and withdrew fluid – something he had, very painfully, done twice before. This time though the fluid was largely blood. Not good. He told me to skip physical therapy for a week, to ice the knee a lot and to start using my cane again. Definitely a setback.

I go see him in a week to learn if anything else needs be done. When I asked him if he had to go in there again he would only say “I hope not.” Again, not good. More surgery is absolutely the last thing I want right now.

What does all this have to do with the laws of the universe above? Well, I ignored Rule #2. I had been stepping on and over that root for years. Countless times I thought “I should go get some garden shears and cut that thing out, else someday I'm going to trip on it.”

I finally did snap that bothersome root off – AFTER I fell. Had I heeded the rules, I'd be in less pain today, cane-free and looking forward to Spring walks in the country.

How is it that at 62 I still have so much to learn?

Bittersweet

(From yesterday's New York Times:)

Nicole Corea, Attila Joey Csiki and the violinist Tim Fain in “Histoire du Soldat”

(“The Soldier's Tale”) at the Galapagos Art Space.

Succumbing to Temptation (and the Devil) in a Quest for Money

By ROSLYN SULCAS

Published: March 25, 2011

“Histoire du Soldat” should be “read, played and danced,” wrote its composer, Stravinsky, and its author, Charles-Ferdinand Ramuz, when the work was first performed in Lausanne, Switzerland, in 1918. And although the piece is often presented as a musical suite, those instructions have frequently been taken to heart. With its crisp narrative — a soldier sells his violin (and thus his soul) to the Devil, fights to win it back, but ultimately loses it again — its dance-rich, jazz-influenced melodies; and its dramatic text, “Soldat” (“The Soldier’s Tale”) offers abundant collaborative possibilities.

It has been taken up by all sorts of musical, theatrical and choreographic luminaries (John Cage once played the Devil, making a lot of noise, according to Elliott Carter, who was playing the narrator, alongside Aaron Copland as the Soldier. And in a one-night-only production at the Galapagos Art Space in Dumbo, Brooklyn, on Wednesday night, the conductor Ransom Wilson introduced his new ensemble, Le Train Bleu, in a version of the piece choreographed by Lar Lubovitch and shaped by a dramaturge, A. Scott Parry.

It was a riveting hour and a brilliant setting for “Soldat,” perfectly suited to the jazz-ensemble feel of the six-member group of musicians, even though Mr. Lubovitch had only half a small stage to work with. Aside from that handicap, the choreographer also has a tough task because the text (here a colloquial English translation from the French by Michael Flanders and Kitty Black) is so dramatic as to make danced exposition seem vaguely superfluous.

Mr. Lubovitch occasionally falls into that trap, but for the most part, he finds ingenious ways to deploy the limited space, deepening our sense of the music’s spare yet rhythmically complex instrumentation, and suggesting facets of the Soldier’s character that aren’t overtly present in the text.

At the start his Soldier (Reid Bartelme) enters to a brisk, military beat, with exaggerated, falling-forward marching steps. But once his soldierly identity is established, Mr. Lubovitch gives the steps a rag-doll, floppy-legged quality that suggests the character’s vulnerability to the temptation that the Devil (Attila Joey Csiki) will offer in the form of a book that has the secret to wealth.

That puppet-like movement is reminiscent of the Fokine-Stravinsky ballet “Petrushka,” as is the propulsive folk-dance violin solos, played with wonderful vividness and accentuation by Tim Fain. (The percussive emphasis of “Soldat” also frequently recalls “Petrushka”: the Devil, like the Moor in that ballet, gets a dance to a drumming beat.)

Under Mr. Wilson’s baton, the Train Bleu ensemble was both incisive and joyous in execution. The actors, William Ferguson (the Narrator), John Arnold (the Soldier) and Reed Armstrong (the Devil) were enthralling storytellers, the dancers (particularly Mr. Csiki) theatrically compelling. Jennifer Tipton’s lighting unobtrusively created a sense of shifting place and space. The only caveat? The production’s one-night stand. Bring it back!

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I would, of course, normally have been there, but that was the night I brought Tasha home from the hospital. She needed me, so I missed this brilliant performance. I am so proud of my husband and so sorry I wasn't there. Something the Times does not mention is that Ransom was not only the founder and conductor of Le Train Bleu but also did most of the legwork and organizational work to make this event happen. From hiring the musicians to renting rehearsal space, negotiating with Galapagos to schlepping music stands – he did it all. He is not only a brilliant musician but a tireless promoter of all kinds of artistic endeavors. As I said, I am very, very proud of him.

(Note: a special shout-out to Lar Lubovitch and his Executive Director Dick Caples for enthusiastically joining this effort and working tirelessly at fund raising and publicity).

Grief

Tasha 2/11/2000-3/25/2011

Thoreau said we lead lives of quiet desperation.

I say life sucks and pain is nearly constant.

How much is that doggie in the window?

Those of a certain age may remember that Patti Page had a number one hit in 1953 with the novelty song titled above. You can give a listen here.

Anyone who has ever had a dog can tell you though that the purchase price, if there is one, is a minor expense. Even a thousand-dollar purebred will cost far more than that over the course of its life in food, shelter and vet bills. Many years ago we spent over $3K for back surgery for Toby, our eleven-year old Lab mix. Before surgery he could not move, and even carrying him to the car made him whimper in pain. The surgeon worked wonders and within a day Toby was on his feet; within a couple weeks he was his rambunctious self. He lived to be 16.

Three thousand dollars was a lot of money but we didn't balk, we didn't even talk about it. Toby was our child; there was nothing to discuss. As with a two-legged child who needs surgery, you get it done and worry about paying for it later.

Today we're in a similar situation, though this one is far worse. Tasha, our eleven-year old Chow mix (pictured) is seriously ill. She was diagnosed with diabetes three months ago and has been on insulin twice daily. She was doing well for ten weeks or so but then her blood sugar skyrocketed; she spent most of Friday at the vet and then I took her to a pet hospital where they can monitor her 24/7; she's been there since.

Her diagnosis is confusing and I am overwhelmed with information that I struggle to make sense of. She seems to have pancreatitis, though they're not ruling out pancreatic cancer. She also has a newly-formed heart murmur. Her blood glucose zoomed to over 600 and has ranged between 200-400; normal is 80-150. She has not eaten in 72 hours and is being fed intravenously.

As I said, she's eleven. Life expectancy for a diabetic dog is two years from diagnosis.

And how much is this particular doggie in the window? Seven thousand dollars so far, and counting.

This time, we will discuss. I cringe to think it, but the truth is we need to talk about what to do next, and what to do next time, with the next dog. We love our dogs, but this episode has made me really wonder: is there a price too great?

For example, I think anyone would balk if they were asked to spend, say, $10,000 to keep a dog alive for four or five days. The question is, when do the numbers make sense? If that $10K bought you a year, would that be worth it? What about half a year? A month?

I hate this. I absolutely hate that I am even thinking these things. But we're not rich; we struggle every day to keep afloat – our house has actually lost that battle; it's been underwater for a couple years.

How much is that doggie in the window? How much is too much?

There are no words

Nothing I can say is sufficient to express my horror, my sympathy, my love for a country in which I spent five wonderful years. My heart is heavy.

Please help.