Happy Hallowe'en

Trick or treat. I treated myself to a manicure and pedicure. How did you celebrate?

And here is a photo of my little darlings. Any reader who has known me longer than 25 years will be astonished to see how much Boston resembles Tyler at the same age.

Should I Be Offended?

I exchanged e-mails with the Professor on Sunday. He told me he was just back from a week of meetings in D.C., my favorite city. He told me he had found the perfect gift for me. He also mentioned he had seen the Edward Hopper exhibit, which I will see on November 24. He knows of my love of and connection with the Hopper painting "Hodgkin's House", which is the home in Gloucester, Massachusetts, where my birthgrandmother grew up.



So of course, putting all those facts together, I figured the Professor had gotten me something — a poster, a postcard, any little thing containing that image — from the National Gallery to sate my hunger for all-things-Hodgkin's-House.

Last night I noticed a package in the mailbox. When I opened it and unwrapped the item inside, it was a lovely Asian fan in a beautiful silk brocade case. This gift is, no doubt, directly related to my frequent hot flashes. I'm not sure whether I should be insulted or amused. I choose amused.

A Little Hallowe'en Humor

My officemate, Chris, is the butchest of butch. There is nothing remotely feminine about her. I always wonder how she feels about being referred to as a woman - which she definitely is. A conundrum.

Imagine my surprise when Chris and Ed and I were talking the other day and I noticed frosted purple nail polish on her nails. She said, "well, it's only on one hand." And indeed, it was only on the fingernails of her right hand.

Ed and I were laughing and Chris offered, "everyone goes drag on Hallowe'en."

I've been laughing about that ever since.

Music, Music, Music

We had two more performances Saturday of Why We Tell the Story, and they went very well, although we played to very small audiences. I told the minister at St. Francis that I would come for church Sunday morning to accompany the young woman who sings in the show as she performs one of her solos to promote the show.

I told him I was allergic to church, but he and several others told me this church is unlike any I've been in before. Tonight we were chatting before the performance. He told me when he was interviewed for this job twenty-some years ago, the man conducting the interview told him they didn't really want him to talk about Jesus. Oh, and they didn't really want him to talk about God. Huh? This is a United Methodist church and they don't talk about God or Jesus? Alrighty then. I think I can live through 20 minutes of their service.

After my second performance Saturday night, I ran down to the university to provide lovely background music for a reception following Ben Vereen's UAPresents performance.

When Jill e-mailed me Friday asking if I could do this for her, I told her I love helping her become notorious for her elegant receptions.

As always, she offered me show tickets in exchange for my performance. I couldn't attend the whole show, but I snuck in a little after intermission. The show was a tribute to Sammy Davis Jr., with whom Ben Vereen had a close working relationship. When Ben finished the song he was on when I snuck in, he then called out, "Jim Middleton. Where are you?" The house lights came up and a handsome black man bounded out of the audience, down the aisle and onto the stage. Ben greeted him, then asked his percussionist if he minded sharing his set.

Jim started playing the congas, and after a couple of minutes, Ben extemporaneously jumped in with an a capella rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Exquisite! Just absolutely exquisite.

When the piece was over, Jim came back downstage and Ben hugged him, then turned to the audience and said, "This is my brother." He then told the story of trying to get a copy of his birth certificate to get a passport to go to London with Sammy Davis Jr., and there being no birth certificate in Dade County for Benjamin Augustus Vereen, but there being one for Benjamin Augustus Middleton. When he confronted his mother about this oddity, she paused, then said, "I hoped you'd never find out."

Turns out he was adopted and had never been told! He found his mother and a half-sister and a brother — who happens to live in Tucson.

Throughout the rest of his performance (which lasted until 10:15!) he kept referring back to his adoption.

For me, an adoptee who found her mother and was told "don't ever contact me again", this was such a sweet story to hear.

Hearing this story only added to my enjoyment of a fabulous concert.

Thanks Jill!

Mercury in Retrograde

Over the past week four different friends have made statements to me about Mercury being "retrograde in Jupiter." I don't follow astrology, and had not a clue what that meant. So I asked the meaning of this situation to me.

They all said it means, among other things, that communications would be totally messed up until around November 1st.

I'm becoming a believer. All communications at the office have been insane for the past week or so. Even with my best buddy, Ed, one of us will make a perfectly routine statement to the other and the recipient just doesn't get the meaning or intent.

On a personal, holding-my-sides-laughing note, yesterday I pinged Tyler, "my nano died. :-(" Thinking I was talking about some beloved grandmother, he pinged back, "did I know your nano?" After a beat, he pinged again, "oh, your ipod nano."

I laughed about that all day. (BTW, I never had any grandparents. Even if I had, they'd all be 115-120 now.)

So just watch what you say for the next couple of weeks.

Helping Others

I e-mailed my stepson, Chris Ross, yesterday. Chris, Michelle and their two preschoolers live in San Diego. I offered my home if they need to evacuate, but they are close to downtown and should be safe through the firestorm.

Chris said he was just leaving to go to Costco to stock up on supplies to deliver to Qualcomm Stadium.

I wished there was some way I could help. Googling took me to the San Diego Area Red Cross, where I made a small donation to support the efforts there. I encourage you to do the same and to pass the URL on to your friends.

Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?

The Traveler sent me this quiz this morning. Thirty questions and I missed nine, giving me a score of 70%. Fifth graders miss, on average, five questions. How will you do?

Are you smarter than a 5th grader?