Tea for One Too

Tomorrow President Obama is to take tea with the Queen. I imagine it will go something like this:
Queen: Oh, do come in Mr Ohbarmer. The kettle is nearly boiled.
President: Gee thanks. A pleasure for you to meet me. To be honest, I thought you'd have a servant do this kind of thing for you.
Queen: Oh we had to let the starff go, don't you know? We've been in a bit of an economic pickle lately. The guards have had to trade in their hawses in for cawgees. One has been making one's own tea for nearly two years now. It must be ready soon.
President: Are you sure you should be wheeling that tea trolley at your age m'am?
Queen: Oh yes. It doubles up as a Zimmer frame, don't you know?
President: Zimmer frame? (Quickly looks up word in pocket phrase book 'English for Dummies') Oh, you mean a walker. I see.
Queen: Do you take milk in your tea Mr Obarmer?
President: Milk? I thought we were having a cream tea.
Queen: We are, but one takes cream with scones, not tea.
President: This is too confusing. Can I just get a coffee?

Don't Hold The Front Page - President Visits London

I was just browsing Yahoo news when I spotted this photo alongside the news that President Obama is in London today visiting the Queen. I thought the new President looked a little cocky until I realised they were wax works! With news so immediate on the internet, Associated Press obviously couldn't afford to wait for the real photo opportunity so this was the best they could come up with!

I wonder what Mr Obama will make of London? Will he have time to queue up with the other American tourists to visit Westminster Abbey and the Tower of London? If he's meeting her majesty, I guess he'll at least get a fast pass to the palace.

I'm A Believer

When I was 14 I could only dream of seeing stars like Davy Jones and David Cassidy perform live. Every Saturday I would watch The Monkees on TV, pick out little boyish Davy as my favourite and watch eagerly. I didn't actually have their posters on my wall, but I would swoon over teen magazines at school. So when I heard they were both playing at the Rosemont Theatre, Chicago, I was keen for Grumpy to get tickets. He was keen because the tickets were a bargain price, so on Saturday we went along with Spike, the Oracle, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Drive and Divine. I have a feeling the girls were a bit keener than the men, but none of them can resist a bargain it seems.
Unfortunately bargain priced meant sitting in the gods, which to be honest just isn't a fair thing to do to ladies of a certain age who needed breathing apparatus to reach their seats. But as the lights went down, we suddenly developed gazelle like qualities as we bounded to a better position. Boy those men have taught us well.
At this stage of my life, I don't have to see the two Davids to get hot under the collar. I'm already hot quite a lot of the time. But as Davy Jones bounded onto the stage, I could have been 14 again and he could have been 24. From my far away seat through my far away glasses, he looked as young as ever, although why he was wearing a grey wig I don't know.
"We used to be heart throbs," he quipped to the screaming female audience. "Now we're coronaries."
Being English, Davy still has a lovely self-deprecating style that I would really appreciate if I were any good at doing that myself (think about it). He constantly acknowledged the fact that he was a lot older, even though from my disad (vantage) point it was hard to imagine.
David Cassidy, 59 this year, still looked every inch the rock star. Apart from a slightly receding hairline he was much the same (unless he'd grafted the body of a much younger man onto his head, of course). The women in the front row still screamed as he held their hands, although I don't imagine he'd fancy them as much as he did in his youth.
Lining up for the ladies room afterwards, I looked at my peers. Mostly women in their fifties, some wearing jeans because they still thought it was the dress code for a pop concert, others looking, well just old. But for one night at least, we were all young again, a memory I'll always 'cherish'.

Another Guest Columnist

Ok, this is the kind of feature about me I really like, ironically also shown to me for the first time today. It's by Alyssa Harrison, an English journalism student I've been mentoring. Alyssa is studying at Staffordshire University, so will probably turn out to be a much better journalist than I am, but it's been fun giving tips to someone just starting out. She's written this as part of her course work. Feel free to comment to let her know what you think.

AS I pick up the phone and dial the number, I cannot help but feel a little nervous. Even though I have spoken to her prior to today, Hilary Decent, 25*, is not your typical interviewee. You see, Hilary is usually on the other side of the pen. (*ok, I admit it, Alyssa used my real age, but I like this one much better).
Throughout her career as a freelance writer, she has worked on numerous publications writing humour columns, straight news and even the occasional foray into script writing for amateur dramatics. However her biggest move came two years ago, when she and her husband Ross chose to take the ultimate step and leave their life in England behind. For a brand new one in the United States. When the phone is answered, Hilary’s friendly voice greets me and I am immediately at ease.
The opportunity for Hilary and her husband to move to the US first arose when her two children Robin, 25 and Abi, 21 had only just started school. Ross was working for an American company who offered him the chance to live and work in Chicago, Illinois. Yet because of the children’s age and the objections of family, the couple decided that it just wasn’t the right time. In spite of this though, the idea of moving to America never quite went away, and years later Hilary is living her dream. I suppose you could say that her eagerness to move away and start anew had something to do with the fact that she had previously stayed in one place for so long!
Growing up in Wembley, North London as she puts it “in the shadow of the football stadium” definitely seems to have left Hilary with a need to explore. For someone with so much drive and determination, it makes all too much sense that she felt the urge to escape her life in England and travel. “Although I moved around a very, very tiny amount , when I actually left England to move here I was still living around the corner from the house where I grew up, so I’d spent 50 years in the same place.”
“We could’ve just moved to another part of England I suppose, but I don’t like to do things by halves!”
At five years old Hilary already had dreams of being an author. Having always excelled in English at school, she knew she wanted to write. However despite her initial aspirations, Hilary had a change of heart by the time she left college instead choosing to study an NCTJ Journalism course for a year at Harlow Technical College. “When I realized just how difficult it would be to write a book and get it published, it seemed that to make a living out of it, journalism was a better route.” Then, at the age of 20 and on the back of her NCTJ course, she got her first job on a newspaper. Starting with the Hendon Times Newspaper, also in North London and then moving to a much smaller paper in Borehamwood, Hertfordshire where she worked for 7 years. A newspaper which was in the same group as the Hendon Times.
“I struggled enormously to get a job from there, I don’t know why particularly. I didn’t just want to move to a local paper.”
She married her husband Ross and, at the age of 26, had her first child. Her son Robin, followed three years later by the birth of her daughter, Abi. With her young family now depending on her Hilary took a considerable break from writing which even included teaching jobs. One as a special needs teaching assistant in a school for 10 years, the other at the University of Hertfordshire as an English teacher for foreign language students. Which, although it gave her an added feather in her cap, never quite quenched her thirst for creativity quite the same way writing did.
Lucky then that in 2006, her whole life changed, bringing with it a brand new set of opportunities. On their 25th wedding anniversary Hilary and her husband decided to go on a round the world trip, which brought back her yearning to move all over again.
“We were away for five weeks and it was wonderful. We got back home and we were living in the same little area of London where I was brought up and I said to my husband I can’t do this anymore. I have to get away. However difficult it was, we would make it happen because we had to do it.”
Do it they did. Within a year, Ross’ company had found him a position in Chicago and Hilary was delighted. She happily gushes about her decision: “I always felt somehow that we had to be here, and that there was some reason why we should be here.”
Since then Hilary has barely looked back. Her enthusiasm and sheer joy when talking about the States is obvious in her voice, which leaves me even more convinced that Chicago is where she belongs. The trick it would seem to success in her new life has been that she threw herself into the community, choosing to volunteer everywhere she could to make herself known.
“Before I knew it I was volunteering virtually everywhere around the town”, she says. “You need to hit the ground running really I think”.
That is exactly what she did. She started her online blog, which quickly gained a following and, eventually, landed herself a job as a weekly humour columnist for the Naperville Sun. Something which, undeniably had been helped by her self promotion and growing reputation.
Freelancing work has followed, and in an unusual move she went back to teaching in the form of a feature writing class at North Central College, which allowed her to pass her journalistic experience onto others, and helped her confidence to bloom once more. Surprising herself with just how much she knew.
As our interview comes to an end we chat briefly about Hilary’s next move in her Stateside life, which leaves me with the question, after so many years in one place, was it worth the wait? Will she settle in Naperville for good?
"I’ve already learnt in the past, if you let it go, it’s gone," she said. " It really is all or nothing now, so I’m trying to make the most of it.”

It's Not All About Me

It's a co-incidence that on our second anniversary the first magazine feature about us was published. Not that I haven't endlessly written about myself and Grumpy, of course, but this is the first time anyone else has written about us. The article in April's Glancer is about foreigners coming to live in Naperville. Obviously I talked to the interviewer endlessly, giving plugs to all the people
who have helped us since we've been here etc etc, so I have to admit I was a bit peeved to find I was cut down to two paragraphs, although the photo's cute. Guess I know what the people I interview feel like now.

Two Years Today

Today marks the second anniversary of Grumpy and I sailing over to Naperville on the Mayflower. We spent weeks on that rickety old boat trying to scrub the residue from passing gulls off our white collars. Grumpy was horrified when on only day 3 his big Pilgrim hat blew off into the ocean to be swept up by a passing albatross. We landed at Ellis Island to find not one person there to check our passports and had to carry our own luggage to the wagon train station. We passed hordes of Native American Indians camping out on a reservation, which was scary, especially when one of them took all Grumpy's money at their casino.
But despite that we arrived in Naperville safe and sound and haven't looked back since, largely because of the cricks in our necks from all those hours on the wagon train.
We still thank God (in the guise of the U.S. Government) every day for letting us live here. Life is still continuing to exceed our wildest expectations. If people here knew how shy and retiring we were in England, they'd never believe it. I could spend the next fifteen inches summarizing our lives here to date, but if I did that, I wouldn't need a blog, would I?

Holy Neuteronomy! - The TV Programme

Just when I thought it was all over - it's back. Holy Neuteronomy! I mean. The show is being televised by our local TV station, as well as being made into a DVD. After enjoying a quiet few weeks of only work e mails, now they're back. "Who's name goes where?" "How do you want the titles" "Do you have any more photographs?", that kind of thing.
I'll let you know when it's ready, so you can watch the live streaming on NCTV from wherever you are. Here's a few things I hope they'll be able to add to make it just a little better.
1. Cut and paste the entire show into the magnificent Chicago Theatre.
2. Have the soundtrack dubbed by Barbra Streisand, Dustin Hoffman and Robin Williams. On second thoughts Williams can probably do the whole thing on his own and save us money.
3. Ask Andrew Lloyd Webber to tweak a couple of the songs.
4. Get Cameron Mackintosh to re stage it.
5. Ask Neil Simon to rewrite it.
6. Ask Kate Winslet to mimic my acceptance speech.

Cheers!

It seems I'm to be a celebrity bartender at a fundraiser Naperville Cultural Center in May. I don't know what I find more amusing. That anyone would think I was able to make and serve cocktails, or that I'm a celebrity. My biggest fear is that no one will know who I am, so will simply moan when I serve them a Pina Colada made of tomato juice. If all else fails, I'll just make myself a large cocktail and sip it from beneath the bar. Of course I may be better at it if I practise a bit first. In fact thinking about, it could be the most enjoyable homework I've ever done.
In case you're in town, the event takes place at 6 p.m. on May 12th at Sullivan's in downtown Naperville.

Grumpy Rides Again

"Well, at least now you have a 'real' job with the Naperville Sun, you won't be humiliating me any more," said Grumpy.
I began my career here making fun of him every week in my first column, The Other Side Of 50, which the paper has decided I am too young to write any more. Now I'm the serious writer of Naperville Women, although I have to say keeping a lid on my funny side is proving quite a challenge.
So today I am delighted to announce another commission. Grumpy will indeed be back. He's going to appear in The Glancer, a monthly Naperville magazine, starting in May. All I have to do is tie him into the monthly topic, which shouldn't be a stretch since I see they already have a 'fix it' issue coming up in the fall and I could fill an entire magazine with that on its own!

Some Don't Like It Hot

On Friday we joined Spike and Divine for an evening of Hollywood glamour (or so I hoped). Hollywood Boulevard cinema in Woodridge was holding one of its celebrity events - Tony Curtis was in town for a screening of Some Like It Hot.
We arrived at 8 p.m. for a 9 p.m. screening of one of my favourite films. We decided not to pay $40 (!) for a signed autobiography, but waited patiently while we watched the line crawl by.
Just after nine we were told the showing would be a little late, and we ushered into another part of the cinema to wait. And wait.

"Are you sure this is worth it?" moaned Grumpy. "It's not like we haven't seen the film on TV a hundred times."
"But Tony's going to speak to the audience first," I said. "I've always like him." (Course I liked him slightly more when he was a drop dead gorgeous 30 year old rather than an about to drop dead 83-year-old in a wheelchair, but we all get older, I guess).
As the hours ticked by, Grumpy became more and more ticked off. The area we were waiting in was like some sort of sweaty holding bay, and quite a few of us definitely didn't like it so hot.
Eventually we got in at 10.40 p.m., way past Tony's bedtime I would have thought. However, you had to be impressed when he finally entered the auditorium, like Rocky after his final fight. The audience rose to their feet and he stopped and hugged fans. Not having any real royalty in this country, Hollywood stars are still the nearest they have and it was very touching to see. We've been to many book signings since we've been in the U.S, and usually the stars or authors will dash off a signature with all the warmth of someone writing a laundry list, so it was kind of gratifying to see how much time Tony had for the 600 or so people waiting in line.

Camping It Down

Following on from my post 'Camping It Up' I regret to inform you the trip will now not be going ahead.
Firstly my sister informs me she never goes anywhere without wearing a skirt and heels, and worries this may not be appropriate in the deepest woods of Wisconsin.
Secondly, my GBF has been staying with us on his way back from Thailand this week. His exact quote when I excitedly told him about the trip was: "I'd rather perform a lobotomy on myself."
Since they are both visiting at the time of the trip, it would be rude to just run off and leave them, so it looks like we won't be going. So if anyone is interested in a three night break in a luxury boy scout shed in a closed camp site over Memorial Day weekend, please let me know...
Luckily we're still going ahead with the visit to the police station, but have space for three more...

Happy St Patrick's Day Mr O'Bama!

Everyone is Irish today in Chicago. Well, not quite everyone, I for one am still English, but it's astonishing how popular St Patrick's Day is here. Considering I used to live next door to Ireland, it really wasn't much of a deal in England. In fact the only reason I knew when St Patrick's Day was was because I was in Patrick's House at school and got to wear a green sash and my Brownie uniform for school on March 17th.
The Chicago river is dyed bright green, and this year President Obama has taken his local tradition to Washington where the White House is now sporting green fountains. Next year I hear he's going to turn his home into the Green House for the day, no doubt with pots of shamrocks growing in window boxes.
Out and about in Naperville today, many people were wearing green, and the bars are going to be packed tonight. The stores are decorated and you all the tat that was left over from Mardi Gras has been relaunched dipped in emerald green paint.
Unfortunately any celebrations I may have attended have been curtailed because of the second round of root canal treatment this morning. Even the dental nurses were wearing green t shirts, which matched my face by the time I crawled out of the chair.

Camping It Up

We've been fortunate to have some wonderful trips since moving the U.S and come to think of it, some even more fabulous ones in the past. But I have the feeling nothing will be quite like the one we are taking over Memorial Day weekend in May. To make it clear quite how extraordinary this is, let me explain a few things first.
1. To me, roughing it is staying in a Holiday Inn.
2. I moan if a hotel supplies soap and not shower gel.
3. My sister and her husband live in Australia, so I rarely see them. I've only spent five days with my brother in law ever.
4. My GBF is an adventurous type, but never travels anywhere without 200lbs of luggage.
So, ready for this? That weekend the five of us are travelling up to Wisconsin to spend the weekend in a staff cabin at Camp Freeland Leslie. The cabin has two bedrooms, a fishing boat and bait. Fortunately my brother in law loves to fish, so my sister is very excited about this. I think she sees us bobbing about on the lake gathering up the haul for my GBF to turn into wonderful gourmet dishes to eat around the camp fire.
I'm not so sure. All I can see is a scene from a horror film where an axe murderer runs around the cabin all night, or we wake up in the morning to find a bear eating porridge at the breakfast table.
The reason we are going at all, is because we attended a boy scout auction on Friday night. Oddly enough no one else put in a bid for the weekend, and as Grumpy was keen to support the cause, bid for it. I don't think he actually expected to win. Still, its possibly better than the other lot we won. A tour for 6-8 people to Naperville Police Department. Still, if the cabin's as bad as I think, a night in a cell could be just what we need...

Paging Naperville Women....

Today I'm proud to announce the launch of my latest venture. I have a brand new column in the Naperville Sun, Naperville Women. The Sun has been undergoing a lot of changes over the past few months, but I'm relieved to tell you that I seemed to have survived to become bigger and better than ever. The paper hasn't had a women's page in recent years, so I'm delighted they took up my idea. Each Sunday I'll be featuring a different inspirational Naperville woman or women, as well as little snippets of interest to women in particular. So if any of you have any ideas, please let me know. I'm stacking up interviews, so am always on the look out.
The sad thing is that Grumpy has not survived the transition. Funny is out, news is in, which I can't really complain about since I am writing for a newspaper, not a comic. But I refuse to let him off the hook that easily, so he will live on in the blog and I will be doing all I can to resurrect him in another publication as soon as I can.

Flying Visit

Since moving to Naperville, I have definitely spent more time at the airport than the station, and certainly than waiting for a bus, since there really aren't any. With the horrors of yesterday still fresh, today we were due to go back to O'Hare yet again, this time to collect some English visitors stopping over for a couple of days on their way home from Miami. Why they would choose to spend their vacation on the sunny Florida Keys rather than the freezing snowy wastelands of Illinois is beyond me, but you have to remember they're English.
We were all set to pick them up around 6 p.m., bring them back for a nice dinner in Naperville (don't be silly, of course I'm not cooking, I mean one of our wonderful restaurants) then head back for a day and overnight stay in Chicago tomorrow.
I was almost pleased that today has been grey and pouring with rain. That means tomorrow will be dry and sunny. After checking the weather forecast, I see its also going to be 40 degrees colder tomorrow too, but you can't have everything.
Around 3 p.m., Grumpy called.
"They couldn't get on the flight they wanted, so they'll have to fly in tomorrow morning," he said.
3.10 p.m: "It's ok, they've got one to Denver, where they'll change planes and be in by 8 p.m."
3.12 p.m.: "Er, same arrangement, different times. They'll get to Denver at 8 p.m., so we have to pick them up at 1 a.m."
3.23 p.m: "Their luggage is going on their original flight, so that'll be here at 6 p.m. without them. Probably."

Happy Purim!

We're at it again! Today is the Jewish festival of Purim, a time of high jinks when everybody dons fancy dress. Of course we tend to take it a little more seriously than most, but this year there was only couple we could be.
Traditionally everyone goes to synagogue to hear the story of Esther. This year we did our own version of part of the story, an English version featuring Snow White and Grumpy.

Surprise!

I often joke about the niceness of Naperville society. "If you leave your car unlocked, someone will fill it with gas then return it fully valeted for you," that kind of thing.

Well today I have another one of the those stories. I returned from our trip to Atlanta to find someone had broken into our house and remodelled the master bathroom!

Not surprisingly Grumpy wasn't as surprised as I was. He had colluded with Jett for weeks to have the work done while we were away as a gift to mark our second anniversary here in the U.S.

Thinking about it, if Jett could remodel virtually an entire house in six weeks when we bought it, it would be entirely reasonable for him to do a bathroom in five days.

Now it does occur to me that many women would faint at the prospect of someone doing such a thing. Naperville women in particular are, let's just say, very particular. They want to check every screw, tile and switch before letting a builder loose. I'm usually quite picky myself, but with Jett at the helm, I have no concerns. I'd let him build me an entire house unseen and know I would love it, although I'd probably have to go away for a little longer for that.

So now I have a gleaming new bathroom, with dark wood cabinets and tiny metallic tiles so beautiful I may just sit up all night admiring them. And a husband who continues to surprise me after 28 years of marriage...

The Plane Truth

Back at the airport today with another horror story. Personally, I would always leave a minimum of six hours to catch a flight, but with Grumpy at the wheel I had to make do with the usual "let's race the plane off the runway."
I was doubly worried because of the id debacle on the way over. This time I lined up to be told to join another line somewhere else in the airport. Beads of sweat began to break out on my brow as the minutes ticked by. I was just getting to the end of the line when a security guard made us all move back..way back.
"That's it, we'll never make the flight now," I moaned.
"It's ok, we've plenty of time," said Grumpy. "At least four minutes before boarding."
Turns out the delay at security was caused by a knife wielding lunatic, who fortunately I didn't actually see, but didn't bother to hang around to find out.
Back at the first line, another security guard looked somewhat bemusedly at my Costco id and let me through. We made the plane with moments to spare, only to sit on the runway for an hour before taking off...

Moutain Excitement

After living in Illinois for so long, it was really exciting today to get out an see a real mountain! We went to Stone Mountain State Park, where a cable car took us up over a 1,000 feet.

The top of the mountain showed some wonderful effects from erosion, including little rock pools of water which accumulates in the winter.

Although the view down was fascinating, the view across the terrain to Atlanta was pretty spectacular too.

Stone Mountain is most famous for this relief carved into the side of itNo, you're not seeing things. It was 76 degrees, so they make artificial snow for the kids to play on! The one thing we certainly didn't feel inclined to try!

Sweet Georgia Town

Today we drove just a few miles out of Atlanta to visit the historic town of Roswell. Finally in the Deep South we found some of the real old plantation houses. Like so many other places we visit, the reality isn't quite what we expected. The houses were far smaller than we thought, and not nearly as opulent. Even the Grecian pillars turned out to be made of wood. Still, it made for a relaxing day out, and in 77 degrees, I'm not complaining!

Chinese Whispers

You never know what surprises you are going to discover when visiting another city. I certainly hadn't heard about this one. Here I am with the ultimate Chinese take-away - one of the warriers from the Terracotta Army! Turns out he was part of a travelling exhibition at the High Museum of Art in downtown Atlanta.

The exhibition was fascinating, as was the rest of the museum.

Frankly My Dear, He Didn't Give A Damn....

Grumpy has a long history of dragging around strange places to visit the homes of famous authors. He's never let me forget the time we walked 10 miles not finding Tennessee Williams' Florida home, or the 100+ mile trip to see Beatrix Potter's home in England. He just couldn't understand why I was so excited to see the actual cabbage patch where Peter Rabbit romped.

Today we hit a new low, when I dragged him to the home of Margaret Mitchell.

The house looked nice enough on the outside. I was more than happy to wait the 40 minutes for the next tour because I could amuse myself watching a documentary about the making of the wonderful Gone With The Wind movie.

Did you know Ms Mitchell was a newspaper reporter just like me? I didn't, and I was very excited to find this out. Even more so when I discovered we earnt about the same money, even though she wrote about 80 years before me.

At last it was time for the tour to begin.

"Fullow meah to the howese," said our jolly Southern tour guide. We walked obediently behind her into a very plain house, into a very plain room with a few photos on the wall.

"Here ah is a picture of Margaret's muthurr," she began. "Margaret leevud with herer round the cornah."

Very interesting. Not. When did she live in this house?

"Wer unce she ran by theese howese when she lawust her kitty cat," she continued.

The crowd started to shoot puzzled looks at each other.

To make sure this story doesn't turn out to be a long as GWTW, I'll cut it shawurt. Sorry, short.

Margaret lived in a tiny apartment at the back of the house for about five minutes. Although that room was furnished, none of the things in it were genuine, as our perhaps too honest guide was quick to point out.

"I cannot believe you've done this to me again," moaned Grumpy as we were ushered into a scant GWTW movie exhibit at the end.

"No look," I said. "This bit's good. It's the real front door frame from Tara. At least from the movie set, it wasn't a real house. And 15% of it was redone in 1989. And, oh never mind. Tomorrow's another day."

Scarlett Fever

Once of the reasons I wanted to visit Atlanta was to see the home of Margaret Mitchell, author of Gone With The Wind. I was quite excited to see signs she was around even before we visited the house.

A huge billboard shows Scarlett outside Tara.

But in this economy, Rhett obviously has had to look for another job...

Southern Belles

Modern day Southern Belles aren't what they used to be. These days they have real attitude!

Caught these ladies hanging out in a Buckhead store window, not far from our hotel.

Mind you, if I had to dress like a drag queen, I suppose I wouldn't look much happier myself!

Identity Crisis

Sometimes I wonder why we ever bother to go away on trips. Last time we ended up spending Christmas Day in a closed hotel, this time we were lucky to get there at all!
"You know, I don't think we need our passports," I said to Grumpy as we prepared to leave for Atlanta. "We never need to show them on internal flights."
"You're right," he said. "But make sure you have your driver's license. You will need photo id."
Just to make sure I took out my license and put it in the same pocket as my Blackberry. I knew it would be safe there.
On the way to the airport my phone rang. I took it out and put it back in my pocket.
We hadn't really left any extra time. Grumpy likes to run straight from the car onto the plane, but we seemed to be doing ok. Until we got out of the car park shuttle bus, that is.
"My driver's license. It's not here," I said, trying not to panic.
"Whaaat? Of course it is. turn out your pockets," said Grumpy, trying not to stay calm.
"I have. It's not here," I said. "Look". I turned out my pockets like a cartoon. "It's not here."
Grumpy turned white.
"That's it, we can't go, we'll miss our flight. It's all your fault!"
We rushed to the desk where fortunately all was not lost. Quite.
"We will accept another form of photo id if you have it," said the attendant taking pity on me. "We'll have to go through your luggage though."
"Er, let me see. Naperville Library Card? No. Morton Arboretum Card? No. "
Which is how I came to get on the plane, marriage and trip intact - courtesy of my Costco card...

The Root of the Problem

Gosh it's been a busy week. I've barely had time to miss all those rehearsals because I plunged straight into a dental calamity. My acting at the end of the show was probably even better than most people thought because the whole weekend I had been suffering from a pounding toothache. Yesterday I had root canal treatment, followed by the comforting news that I should come straight back if I got uncontrollable throbbing because the dentist may have to extract the tooth anyway!
Fortunately today I am only sore, so can only hope the treatment is going to work. This is all of particular importance because tomorrow we are off on another jaunt. This time it's Atlanta, Georgia. So watch out for more puns, great photos and news of our adventures over the next few days. The good news is temperatures should be around 70 degrees, so we'll at least get a taste of spring before heading back to the cold on Monday.

Holy Neuteronomy! in Pictures

In the beginning I created the creation ballet. Since it was meant to be done deliberately badly by an amateur company, the cast had no problem...
The scene finishes with an appearence by Adam and Eve, who tried to tempt him with a banana after he rejected the apple.

We then discover the ballet is part of an amateur show. Next we meet the members of the cast auditioning to take part. They include a magician...

A ventriloquist who has lost is dummy so has to make do with Mimi the mime artist..

and the star of the show, a precocious brat called Melody Ann.

Once the auditions are over, its back to the show they are putting on. A mixed up mess of bible stories, hence the title, Holy Neuteonomy! The next part of the story is Noah's Ark.

Never alone with his Blackberry, the show is run by the assistant director, a high school football coach. He treats everyone like they are on the football field. He is assisted by the producer and the main director who is a neurotic mess. He doesn't know what he's doing, so everyone has to step in to get things together in spite of him. I based this part on myself, with only a little exaggeration required on the part of the actor playing me!

The cast of the show within the show (hope you're keeping up) all aspired to be like the Diva, the only one in the show with any real talent.

Hamson the Pig gave Samson and King David a hand, or should that be a trotter, as the bible stories became more confused. No animals were hurt in the production of this show, although most required counselling afterwards.

Being a Purim spiel, Queen Esther had her own song, The Hamentash Waltz, complete with some dancing from our stars.

Hilary, a serious actress, found herself in trouble when she had to play baby Moses. Here she is being fought over by King David and Goliath.

"You may be nine feet tall, but you don't scare me," says David to a five-year-old.

At the cast stop arguing and realize although they may struggle alone, together they are a force to be reckoned with. God, who is of course female, joins the coach, director and producer in the final number Better Together.

And finally, the author makes an emotional speech as she receives an award. After practising from the age of seven with a real Oscar, she is fully prepared for the night she wins a bottle of shampoo! Thanks for the inspiration Kate!

Holy Neuteronomy! will be screened in a few weeks time on NCTV. Non locals will be able to see it streamed on the internet, so I'll let you know when its ready.

A huge thanks to all concerned. As regular readers will know, I always give other people blog names to protect myself from lawsuits. But today I want to give credit to my partner Mrs Hammerstein. She's actually called Gail Sondheim (sorry, Sonkin).

Thanks also to Elaine Rest for the photos.

All's Well That Ends Well

Check in later for photos and more news about Holy Neuteronomy! First I have to write the script, rehearse the photographers, liaise with the camera man.....

Let's Go On With The Show..

The first night of Holy Neuteronomy! was a huge hit! Obviously the cast had decided to give me the most stressed week of my life (well, this month anyway) by merely pretending they had forgotten the words, didn't know when to enter etc etc. Even the final sing through was terrible. But as luck would have it, the actual show went without a hitch, and my speech went down a storm.
Trouble is now I am still worried. Did they peak too early? Last night's premiere is followed by this afternoon's closing performance. It's being film by NCTV, the local television channel. So however good it was last night, it needs to be even better today....