Joe Cillo

Lynn Ruth [rating:4] (4/5 stars)

The Thrill Peddlers present….
TINSEL TARTS IN A HOT COMA
Music and lyrics: Scrumbly Koldewyn
Book: Sweet Pam” Tent
Directed by Russell Blackwood

“The Cockettes were basically complete sexual anarchy
Which is always a good thing.
John Waters

“The Cockettes were the first hippie drag queens,” said filmmaker John Waters,  “Insane hippie drag queens on and off the stage.”  And that sentence sums up that outrageous and delightful group of wild, flamboyant hippies, transsexuals, gays and rebels that managed to destroy all our sacred cows on and off the stage.  They created a series of drug infused ostentatious musical shows so camp only the sub-culture in San Francisco could understand them.  Their musicals were disorganized and wild, filled with glitter and nudity, mad and maddening yet irresistible to anyone ready to accept the unacceptable.

When they brought the original production of “Tinsel Tarts in a Hot Coma” to New York In 1971, the establishment simply could not handle their “in your face” exuberance. It was critic Lillian Roxon who realized that, inexperienced, chaotic and rough as they were, the group blazed a trail for a cultural evolution we are experiencing today “Their influence will be felt years from now,” she said. “Every time you see too much glitter or a rhinestone out-of-place, you (will) know it’s because of the Cockettes.”

Russell Blackwood, director of the Thrill Peddlers fell in love with the Cockette spirit and in 2009 he re-invented the Cockette production Pearls Over Shanghai  and followed it with Vice Palace.  Now, we have his re-imagining of  Tinsel Tarts In A Hot Coma the 1971 musical originally performed by The Cockettes at The Palace Theatre in San Francisco.

Blackwood’s interpretation of that production is on stage now at the Hypnodrome theatre and if you like splashy costume, great energy and not much plot, this production is your cup of tea.  Three of the original Cockettes are in this version of the musical that blossomed in San Francisco and died in New York.   Two of them, Scrumbly Koldewyn and Pam Tent also rewrote the book and added 18 songs from the original four-page outline used in that first production.  For this reviewer, Scrumbly Koldewyn is worth hearing and seeing anytime he takes to the stage.  His musical talent is beyond words, so original and exciting are his compositions; so thrilling his keyboard technique. Pam Tent steals the show in a parody of Hedda Hopper and no one can resist her.

The energy and enthusiasm of the cast is infectious and everyone who sees the show cannot help but have a wonderful time.  This production is so much more than a musical,  It is a happening and great fun from the opening number Ain’t We Deluxe to the spirited finale loaded with flashing breasts, swinging dicks, glittering gams and feathers, Hades Lowdown.

The question is: Are we so jaded by all that has gone before that the Cockette spirit is just a bit too over the top for today’s audiences?  “It’s nothing but a high school musical,” said one member of the audience. “All the performers put out lots of effort and enthusiasm, and the songs were clever….but  I didn’t see any reason for the nudity in the finale. I’m hardly a prude but it just seemed out of place.”

The truth is naked bodies aren’t that shocking anymore and too much glitter and glitz is boring.  We have all been there, done that and seen it so many times before.  That said; if you want a fun evening that does nothing to enrich you but everything to tickle your funny bone, don’t miss this fast-moving, melodic farce.  Tinsel Tarts in a Hot Coma is a production you’ll not soon forget: more colorful than a rainbow, and as delightful as a surfeit of ice cream and cake.

The sixties are gone; dope will never be as cheap
Sex never as free and rock & roll never as great.
Abbie Hoffman

TINSEL TARTS continues through June 1, 2012
Thursday-Saturday @ 8pm
The Hypnodrome Theatre 575 Tenth Street, SF
Tickets: brownpapertickets.com or 800 838 3006
Info: thrillpeddlers.com 415 377 4204

NAKED IS AS NAKED DOES

The male body is hairy and lumpy
And should not be seen by the light of day
Richard Roeper

Americans do not mind seeing people murdered on their television screen and they love watching heads flying and limbs severed at the movies.  They like the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire, bodies strewn across the pavement and little children crying for their lost mummies and daddies.   The more violence the better.  That is the American way.

The truth is that violence and tragedy make great entertainment.  So does pornography.  Americans actually prefer to watch lust happening even more than they like doing it. What a thrill to see a man and women tearing each other’s genitals to pieces or whipping and chaining each other for the sheer pleasure of hearing them scream.  Porn is almost as popular in America as violence.  We watch both every day and love it all.

But let some poor schnook walk outside to get the newspaper in the altogether and he ignites public outrage. “It offends me to see anyone that way,” said one insulted observer. “It is disgusting.”

That is why San Francisco decided to compromise its image of freedom of expression and tolerance of the odd-ball and ban public nudity from its streets.  No more can raunchy old men spread a towel on a stone bench and sun themselves in the Castro district.  No more, can its citizens strip to the flesh to bathe in the afternoon sun.  San Francisco now supports the theory that our bodies are so hideous they must be concealed in public.  No matter, that liberated women, forward thinking men and eating disorder specialists are trying to make us comfy with our diverse shapes and sizes.  In San Francisco, it is pc to be ashamed.

Now, it seems that the Japanese, too are offended by nudity, but they have taken it one step further.  They do not want to see representations of the human body, much less the real thing. Michelangelo’s David  was presented to the town of Okuizumo and the inhabitants ran for cover.  “It’s frightening the children and worrying the adults with its nakedness,” said one of the town’s bigwigs.

I can only assume that they have also stripped their museums of reproductions of Van Gogh’s NUDE WOMAN ON A BED or Renoir’s AFER BATHING not to mention Whistler’s shocking NUDE GIRL WITH A BOWL.

Obviously, the very sight of a naked body horrifies the more sensitive among us.   It is difficult to understand why we think the sight of a penis or a breast will frighten our children more than the sight of shattered limbs and battered heads. Will our innocent youth smash the bathroom mirror when one day they see those very banned organs protruding from their own bodies?

The truth is that in America our bodies are considered repulsive and offensive unless we film them and flaunt them on a screen.  The only answer to this dilemma is to cover every baby at birth with ornamental tattoos so that as they mature, no one will recognize the new growth.  And everyone will be amazed when it rises to an occasion.

 

 

I don’t even like to be naked
In front of myself!
Camryn Manheim

MARIN THEATRE COMPANY PRESENTS
THE WHIPPING MAN
by Matthew Lopez
Directed by Jasson Minadakis
Starring L. Peter Callender, Nicholas Pelczar and Tobie Windham

The people made worse off by slavery
Were those who were enslaved.
Thomas Sowell

Marin Theatre consistently gives us exceptional productions and Jasson Minadakis is without equal as a director.  Any production he touches becomes thought provoking, meaningful theater at its best. THE WHIPPING MAN is no exception.  “Set a week after the fall of Richmond at the end of the Civil War and spanning the date of President Abraham Lincoln’s assassination, THE WHIPPING MAN explores a moment in our history when everything changed and anything seemed, and perhaps actually was, possible,” says Minadakis.  “Matthew explores how faith is one of the strongest ways to build family and community and to honor history…..….Faith in ourselves, our family and friends, our community or a divine power is the light that parts the darkness.”

The faith in this play is Judaism.  When the Southern Aristocracy owned slaves, those people became a part of their family.  Although they were possessions, they were still expected to follow the moral constructs of the people who owned them.   Simon (L. Peter Callender) and John (Tobie Windham) are Jewish. They belonged to Caleb’s (Nicholas Pelczar) family.  The play opens in Caleb’s now almost destroyed home in Richmond, Virginia in 1865 on a Friday night during the Jewish Passover.  It is important to understand the Jewish humanistic philosophy when you watch this play because it colors each characters reaction to one another.  Jewish law forbids unethical treatment of slaves and encourages owners to make them part of the family.  They were forbidden to physically abuse their slaves or to sell them to harsh masters.

And yet, these people were property and no matter how well meaning the master was, there were moments when he fell from grace.  In this play Caleb’s father who was portrayed as a kind, humane man beat both Simon and John, and violated Simon’s wife.  Caleb was overbearing and cruel to John even though the two grew up together as brothers.  As Simon explains, ”You did it because you could.”

Caleb disillusioned by the cruelty and bloodshed of the war has abandoned his faith. “I stopped believing.  It’s as simple as that,” he tells Simon.  And Simon who still believes there is a higher power to protect them all says, “God doesn’t like fair weather friends.  “  He continues, ”You don’t lose your faith by stopping believing; you lose your faith by not asking questions.”

As the play develops, we are asked to question where justice begins and why men abandon their sense of humanity when they have power over another.  The acting in this play is nothing short of amazing.  L Peter Callender is a supreme artist and anyone who has the privilege of seeing him perform on stage knows he is unforgettable in any part he plays.  He outdoes himself in this play.  He carries the action and he is breathtaking every moment he is on that stage.  Tobie Windham is perfect as the rebellious angry brother and Caleb is right on the mark as the disillusioned son of a Jewish plantation owner who finally sees how little help his faith was to him when faced with impossible choices not just on the battlefield but in a home where people were subjugated to humiliation because they were owned.

The production is a masterpiece on every level and we have Jasson Minadakis to thank for that. He is both the director of this fine and memorable piece of theater and artistic director of the theater.  One can wax eloquent about the set, the lighting and the action…but there are no words to substitute seeing the play for yourself.  It is far more that a work of fiction on a stage.  It is a reflection of what life means and how we can all try to live it with honor and dignity.

Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery,
I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN

THE WHIPPING MAN continues until April 21, 2013
Marin Theatre Company
397 Miller Avenue
Mill Valley, CA 94941
415 388 5208
www.marintheatre.org

Lynn Ruth [rating:5] (5/5 stars)

HILLBARN THEATRE PRESENTS…..

JOHN & JEN
Music by Andrew Lippa; Lyrics Tom Greenwald
Directed by Jay Manley
Starring Alicia Teeter and William Giammona

Our brothers and sisters are there with us
From the dawn of our personal stories
To the inevitable dusk.
Susan Scarf Merrell

Cast aside your preconceived notions about what a musical is before you come to this beautifully staged and artistically produced play.  Jay Manley has taken a weak text and poorly developed plot and transformed it into a theatrical work of art. jon & jen is the musical story of a sister and brother who protect and love each other, yet are foiled by their own inadequacies.  Jen is the older sister determined to protect her baby brother from their dysfunctional parents.  Sadly, because she is only a child, she cannot keep him from absorbing their irrational behavior and warped values.  She can only give her brother her unconditional love and support.  John, determined to defy his sister and get his father’s approval enlists in the army and is killed.  When Jen marries, she names her baby after her lost brother and when her own marriage falls apart, she smothers her son with love and protection just as she did her brother.

It is very difficult to create believable characters when the only vehicle is song.  Andrew Lippa’s music and Tom Greenwald’s lyrics are lovely and deep but alone they cannot draw the depth of character we need to fully understand and relate to this poignant story.

Alicia Teeter is perfectly cast in her role as Jen.  She manages to touch our hearts with every note she sings and with every nuance of expression. She is a fine actress to the core.   Andrew Lippa has a much more challenging job.  He must portray a baby and grow up into a man in both acts.  He carries it off very well…but the audience must take a leap of faith to believe in the validity of his character.

And that is where Jay Manley’s genius shines through.  By choreographing the movements of these two fine performers and creating costume changes that tell as much of the story as the libretto itself, he carries the story through to its lovely resolution when the two stars sing the unforgettable Every Goodbye Is Hello.  Robert Broadfoot has outdone himself in designing the set…it is simple and yet perfect for action that spans 42 years. He has created four different levels to indicate the many changes of time and place on the spacious open stage at Hillbarn.

“Ultimately this musical play is about familial love, loss, grief, forgiveness of others and self, and most important, moving on – learning how to let go and forge a way forward,” says Manley.  “Who has not been touched by these universal tests?”

This is not a play for everyone.  It is deep and disturbing and will touch your heart, if you let it.  Kudos to Hillbarn for including it in their season.  jon and jen is a theatrical masterpiece.

IF YOU GO:

JON & JEN CONTINUES THROUGH APRIL 7, 2013

Ticket Flash Sale! $28 tickets to any remaining shows of “john & jen” Enter promo code “HBFLASH” when buying online and instantly save. MORE INFORMATION AT hillbarntheatre.org or 650 349 6411

HILLBARN THEATRE is located at 1285 Hillsdale Blvd. in Foster City.

 

ART IS GOING TO THE APES

An ape cannot speak about his art
Anymore than a monkey can discuss a his digestion.
Jacques Cocteau and Lynn Ruth

In the late sixties, a gorilla won the Modern Art competition at the Detroit Museum of Art. The animals’ owner put several tubes of paint and a blank canvas in the ape’s cage.  The furry artist, whom I shall call Sybil, stomped on the tubes of paint and smeared the colors on the canvas with her paws.  After an hour, she tired of dancing and began eating the tubes of paint.  Her owner pulled the canvas out of her cage, hosed Sybil down and was amazed at the finished canvas.   It reminded him of a combination of a Jackson Pollack with a smattering of Kandinsky, a dash of Picasso and traces of Klee.  When Sybil’s masterpiece dried, he varnished it, framed it and entered it in the museum’s competition.

To his delight, the painting won first prize.  He bought a jeweled collar for Sybil, pinned a pink ribbon in her hair and brought her to the award ceremony. It was a little dicey getting her in the front door  but the owner insisted she was a service animal  He managed to keep her from molesting the guests by feeding her bananas and bit of cadmium red. When they called his name to accept the award, Sybil joined him on stage.  He told the astounded judges that it was not he who created the masterpiece they so admired.  It was his Sybil.

Years later, I took a class with the fabulously talented realistic painter Joseph Sheppard and he told me that Sybil was indeed a magnificent talent.  Indeed, he had joined her in her cage a few years after her triumph to raise money for the museum.  Together they painted a still life that hangs now in that same museum.

Evidently, gorillas not only paint, but they know what they are painting. Sister and brother gorillas Michael and Koko were taught sign language.  As a result, Koko (the artist in the family) was able to explain to her curator Dr. Penny Patterson, that she had painted a bird.

Just this past month, word is out that a zoo in North Dakota is selling the artwork of its 275 pound orangutan named Tal. His paintings are so colorful that they literally fly off the wall.  The animal’s favorite color is yellow and often he eats as much of the paint as he smears on his canvases. “Could be because it looks like a banana,” said the zoo’s curator.

There is no doubt that creativity is fundamental in the ape psyche. The animals  love using crayons, pencils and finger paint although they prefer oils they can eat. Everyone knows that children have the same propensity to eat the colors they use to paint. I believe we can learn a lot from the apes and their ability to transform their creative efforts into funds that support their favorite institutions.  I propose that we exhibit and sell all the paintings from local kindergarten classes to pay for amenities in their schools.  Think of it! We would no longer have to pay taxes to support education!  Our kindergartners would finance the system for us…and who knows?  There might be enough money left to reward the young artists with a few bananas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HYDE PARK ON HUDSON, now playing at Landmark’s Embarcadero and Clay

Cinemas in San Francisco and elsewhere in the Bay Area, is a charmingly intimate look

at President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s life at his home in Hyde Park, New York.

 

The film focuses on Roosevelt’s erotic relationship with his cousin Daisy Suckley,

which only became public knowledge decades later when her letters (and some of his)

were discovered under her deathbed. Roosevelt is played, with a touch lighter than

air, by the great Bill Murray; Laura Linney’s Daisy is a wallflower at first flattered by

Roosevelt’s attention and then angered by its limits. Both are completely believable and

very affecting.

 

The other focus is on the weekend in June 1939 when the King of England, George

VI, and his wife Queen Elizabeth (later the Queen Mother), came to Hyde Park and

were famously treated to an informal (for them) hot dog picnic. They are presented (by

Samuel West and Olivia Colman) quite differently from the way we saw them in The

King’s Speech.

 

Olivia Williams is astonishing as Eleanor Roosevelt. She has her look, her manner,

her physical presence, even her gait, to the life. The screenwriter Richard Nelson gave

Eleanor almost nothing to do, which was a miscalculation. In her occasional few seconds

of action Williams gives the best performance in the film. Also excellent in brief roles

are Elizabeth Marvel as Roosevelt’s secretary Missy LeHand, and Elizabeth Wilson as

his gorgon of a mother. The costumes and production design are true to the period and

beautifully enhance the presentation.

 

The main interest of the film is the insight it gives into President Roosevelt’s life, and

by extension into his work. Nelson (who adapted his BBC radio play for this film), and

Murray too, succeed admirably by their restraint. Some reviewers have criticized the

film for not giving a rounded view of FDR, larger than life (as he could be) and booming

out an inspirational message. But Roosevelt was a hugely complicated man, and Hyde

Park on Hudson is not a biopic. A lot of the value of the film is precisely that it shows

him in a way we are not familiar with – quiet, lonely, exasperated by the tensions in

his household, needing intimacy but also moved as much by his own nature as by his

circumstances toward extreme reserve in his emotional life. By keeping most of the

action centered on small things, and by deliberately underplaying this publicly expansive

figure, Nelson and Murray give us a better look at Roosevelt than most of us have ever

seen before.

 

In particular, the film shows a lot about how Roosevelt’s paralysis affected his life.

We see him in his wheelchair, being carried when necessary, moving with difficulty

by clinging to the side of his desk. During his lifetime the press scrupulously avoided

showing any of this – there are only eight seconds of film in existence that show

him (after polio) walking (with a brace and a strong man to lean on), and only two

photographs (both taken by Suckley) showing him in a wheelchair. The film helps us

understand this part of his life in a way difficult to access otherwise.

 

The visit of the royal couple was not just a colorful episode, but a historically important

event. In June 1939 war in Europe was recognized as inevitable, and Britain urgently

needed American help to survive. But Roosevelt was constrained by the isolationist

views of Congress and the electorate, and couldn’t give the help he wanted to. Not

only were Americans determined not to repeat the experience of World War I, a lot of

them (especially the Irish) were actively hostile to Britain. The Mayor of Chicago said

publicly that if he ever met the King he would punch him in the nose. The real point

of the hot dog picnic was to humanize the British royals in American eyes and make

them appear friendly and approachable, so it would become easier to help them. And

Roosevelt did after this manage a lot of back door help (Lend-Lease, the Destroyers for

Bases program) before Hitler solved that problem by declaring war on the United States

after Pearl Harbor.

 

In keeping with the private focus of the film, close attention is given here to the

personal relationship between the King and the President, which developed into a

strategically important one. It is handled here with great sensitivity and insight.

One false note is the character of the Queen, who is shown here shrewishly hectoring

the King about his stammer and comparing him unflatteringly to his brother (the former

Edward VIII).

This is quite inconsistent with the historical record and all that is known about their

relationship, and it mars the film’s effectiveness.

 

But on the whole, and in almost all its parts, Hyde Park on Hudson is a superbly

crafted and beautifully presented look at a moment in time and an aspect of the life and

personality of one of America’s most important and compelling historical figures.

 

The Shelton Theater presents……

THE RAINMAKER

By

Richard Nash

Directed by Julie Dimas-Lockfeld

Starring Amanda Gerard-Shelton & Matt Shelton

Magic is believing in yourself.

If you can do that, you can make anything happen.

Goethe

Part of the mission of the Shelton Theater is “to communicate what it means to be human in the world” and Richard Nash’s classic play does just that.  “This poetic story has touched us with its quirky nature and courage to embrace the unknown,” says Director Julie Dimas-Lockfeld.  “It only takes a sliver of hope…to step into the grandeur of a larger and even more real perspective.”

 

Lockfeld worked with actors who have studied at The Shelton Studios.  Together, they created a moving tale of hope, love and beauty “The story for me becomes a romance between the elements of earth and sky – caring and dreaming,” says Lockfeld.  “The heart of the story is about opening up our closed minds and valuing what is right here. Funny thing is that what is here is so much more than what we imagined.”

 

For those of you who do not know the story of The Rainmaker, it is set in rural depression America during a drought that is destroying livestock, crops and hope.  Lizzie (Amanda Gerard-Shelton) is farmer H.C (Phillip Estrin)’s only daughter.  She is single, lonely and as big a source of worry to her father and two brothers as the lack of rain.

 

Noah, her older brother sees her for what she really is, a plan, quiet girl whose prospects diminish with each passing year, but her father sees the beauty that is beneath the surface: her goodness, her honesty and her compassion for others.  He loves her and wants her to find love and companionship, security and comfort.  The younger brother, Jim (John Kiernan) is a bit of a lush and a dreamer and does not realize that while he squanders money and time womanizing and drinking, his family needs him at home to help with the farm.

 

Into this quagmire of starving cattle, failing crops, spinsterhood and frustration comes Starbuck (Matt Shelton) a con man whose real name is Smith.  Shelton has created a character so charming and charismatic that his chicanery only adds to his appeal.  He burst into the kitchen and his appeal mesmerizes both the audience and the family on stage.  “I woke up this morning and I said to the world, this world is going at it all wrong” he says.  The family is so hungry for hope that Starbuck manages to convince H.C. and Jim to give him $100 to make it rain.  Both Lizzie and Noah doubt the rainmaker, but he reassures them: “Maybe God whispered a special word in my ear.”  He goes on to say, “Faith is believing you see white when your eyes tell you black.”

 

This is an ensemble piece and all the actors support one another beautifully, but it is Amanda Gerard-Shelton’s professionally accurate and sensitive performance that carries the play.  We not only hear her need in her speech, we see it in her eyes and her every movement.  She is lonely and she has accepted that all those hopes she once had will never come true.   “I’m sick and tired of being me,” she tells Starbuck and she goes out to the tack room where he is sleeping to find out if there can ever be something more in life for her.   Starbuck convinces her that beauty begins in the mind.  Sometimes, he says, it is a good thing to ignore what seems real, and believe that life is the way you want it to be.

 

When the brothers realize their spinster sister has spent the night with a crazy man they hardly know, they are scandalized. But H.C, knows the importance of love even if it is only for a moment.  He tells Noah,” You are so full or what right you can’t see what’s good.”

 

And indeed that is the point of this play.  We so often let our minds get in the way of our hearts that we keep ourselves from living the lives we could have if we but reached for the stars.

 

The set designed by Steve Coleman is a perfect replica of the time and place.  It sustains the mood of the play and yet looks as if it were plucked out of an American farmhouse from long ago.   Lockfeld uses the magic strains of the violin and artistic lighting to bring the audience into the world they see on stage.

 

The first thing we see is Lizzie in her bunk bed sleeping and we know that she is the fulcrum of the story.  “I just thought that this story is actually more of a fable. It’s more like elements in the psyche and I had the idea to style the production as a storybook tale. I wanted the experience of the actors to be real and personal and we keep working to grow that truth of experience in our work,” said Lockfeld. “Then maybe our modern sophistication and political correctness could be suspended a bit and we could enjoy the old fashioned family love, living close to the land, keeping faith in your heart qualities of The Rainmaker.”

 

The story, sentimental as it is, touches on important truths that transcend generations.  Only we can live our lives and only we can make those lives magic.  Lizzie says to Starbuck, “Maybe if you’d keep company with the world…if you saw it real.”

But the truth is that if we can believe in miracles, they will comfort us. As T. S. Elliot once said, “Mankind cannot stand too much reality.”

 

This is a beautiful production, understated and real.  It lasts an hour and 35 minutes without intermission and in that short space of time, you will be transported into a charming world where thinking makes it so.

Where there is great love
There are always miracles.
 Willa Cather

IF YOU GO….

WHERE: The Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter, San Francisco

WHEN: Now through December 22, 2012,

Fridays and Saturdays, 8 PM

TICKETS: $38 GENERAL ADMISSION

WWW SHELTONTHEATER.ORG

1 800 838 3006

 

 

 

 

 

IN DEFENSE OF BIRQAS

By Lynn Ruth Miller

A woman’s face is her work of fiction.

Oscar Wilde

I have reached the age when looking in the mirror has become a nightmare.  Either I see my mother or a woman who looks ready for a plot.  If the night before has been particularly grueling, I don’t see much at all.

 

I find that it takes a lot of work these days to get my face ready for public viewing.  I am not talking about going to a formal dance or meeting a dignitary.  I am saying that before I dare leave the house, I have a time consuming, discouraging and ego damaging routine I must follow before I dare greet the outside world.

 

As soon as I wake up, I drink 12 ounces of warm water to hydrate my skin.  I use a special facial sponge to wipe the sleep from my eyes and remove the rivulets of sand that have lodged in the wrinkles on my face and dripped down the folds of my neck.

 

I haul out a magnifying mirror and work on the white heads, uneven bumps and enlarged pores that spring up as if by magic during the night. Then I address the lush new growth of hair in my lip, my chin and hanging from my nostrils.

 

I apply a light moisturizing lotion to try to plump up the sagging pouches around my eyes and under my chin.  I pat the skin dry and hope those gaping pores close.

 

They don’t.

 

I apply a mild sun screen to the entire region of flesh above my collar bone.  It is impossible to separate my jawbone from my clavicle.  They have coagulated into a soft mass of unidentifiable epidermis. I have not seen my neck in fifteen years.   I slather on moisturizer and hope it sinks into all the right places.

 

It doesn’t.

 

My skin has developed so many colors that I cannot decide if it is a plaid or a print. Both peaches and cream are but a memory.  I apply a foundation that is the color of what it once was when it glowed with the blush of youth.  This was so many years ago that I am not sure I have chosen the right shade.  The one I am using is a tad darker than bleached cotton but not so dark that I look like an immigrant.

 

It is now time to do my eyes.  The first challenge is locating them.  They are wedged between the folds of my eyelids and the puffed gray pillows around what is left of my eyelashes.  I rub a bit of oil on the lids and then a tad of eye shadow to match my outfit.    I need to be careful because if I am wearing a vivid combination of color, my eyes will look like Bozo’s.

 

I am now ready for THE BIG CHALLENGE.  I must use a pencil and draw a line right above my eye lashes and directly under my eye.  This can take anywhere from twenty minutes to several hours depending on how many times I jam the pencil into my cornea or dislodge my contact lens.

 

Each morning my cheeks sag a few inches closer to my collar bone. I need to redefine them with rouge.  The trick is to add just enough tint so I don’t look dead.

 

I look in the mirror to see if there has been any improvement.

 

There hasn’t.

 

I so envy the women of the Middle East.  They wake, drape themselves in a burqa and go out on the town.  Oh, I know they are subservient and need to shut up and take it.  But the truth is that with a face like mine, no one is going to want to give it to me anyway unless I cover it up.  There is a huge advantage to draping yourself in a filmy bit of fabric and leaving your appearance to the imagination.  I could probably pass for a real looker unless it’s a windy day.

While you’re saving your face;

You’re losing your ass.

Lyndon Johnson