send in the clowns

I finally have a visitor for a week and I'm so excited because no one ever comes to mudville and I was stupid enough to buy a house here. But my visitor is sick and even though it's the first gorgeous day of the year, I have to fend for myself. Since I have a large and unruly backyard, perhaps I will weed. But I was hoping for something a little more, I don't know, fun.

We are thinking of flying to vegas and driving to death valley next weekend. Whatever we do, we are definitely taking a trip.

Jamie, my visitor, makes me happy because he'll say things like, "why don't you just move to new york for a year and sublet your place and we can live together in my apartment, because I'm only there a few days a week anyway. Move this summer!" He makes it sound really great and fun and like he really means it. He makes it sound easy. He makes it sound like an actual possibility.

Jamie is funny to have around because he is super bossy and always making exclamations like, "How can you live like this?! Doesn't that bother you?! What's wrong with your trash can?! There's a real shortage of fuckin outlets in your house!" He loves food as much as I do and is willing to drive two hours and then wait in line for another to eat the best dim sum on the west coast. He has impeccable taste in music. And he still points to things in my house that he claims are his (they are not.)

With the weather, it is really hard to be in a foul mood, no matter how hard I try.

Jamie used to get mad at me when we went out because I could never remember his birthday and often spelled his name the spanish way, Jaime.

Rent Jamie's excellent movie from Netflix- Off The Charts: The Song-Poem Story.

Read Kate Sullivan's soulful article about song-poems.


Send in The Clowns
Sondheim

Isn't it rich, aren't we a pair
Me here at last on the ground - and you in mid-air
Send in the clowns

Isn't it bliss, don't you approve
One who keeps tearing around - and one who can't move
But where are the clowns - send in the clowns

Just when I stopped opening doors
Finally finding the one that I wanted - was yours
Making my entrance again with my usual flair
Sure of my lines - nobody there

Don't you love a farce; my fault I fear
I thought that you'd want what I want - sorry my dear
But where are the clowns - send in the clowns
Don't bother they're here

Isn't it rich, isn't it queer
Losing my timing this late in my career
But where are the clowns - send in the clowns
Well maybe next year