Sharing the story together, Alva occasionally "reminding me" about the proper pronunciation of a person's name, both of us regularly pipe up with memories or associations and even insights that arise as we're hearing him-thru-me tell his story.
Houseman is brilliant. He's insightful in writing about both others and himself. Sometimes I wish that he were more forthcoming emotionally. We just (somewhat breathlessly) finished the chapter in which Houseman tells us, from soup to nuts, the story of a young Orson Welles conceiving of and then leading a HUGE company of 147 performers, in the first WPA-sponsored theater project to have a professional premiere, SRO in Harlem, baby. The VooDoo MacBeth. All black cast, story set in Haiti of the 19th century. A true collaboration of theater artists. And a smash hit!
He sounds like a well-grounded man. So we do some well-grounded listening. But with a life this rich and a storyteller who can write, we don't need any bells and whistles. Two comfy yellow chairs, two cups of tea and a good book. I feel grateful for every moment. And when life beckons me back into full-time work, I shall also be glad.
If my bamboobear musings on various topics will encourage your musings,--in your head, on the page, wherever, dear Reader, that would be the cherry on top. My sundae these past six months has been the opportunity I've given myself to get my writing mojo back. And, even more, the way it feels to toss another letter-in-a-bottle out to sea. Connected acutely, writer and reader, yet non-attached and free. That's my version, anyway. My non-blog writing is thriving, and I'd like to thank you, dear Reader.
N.B.Should you ever wish to contact me directly, email works well for me. Many of you have my email address. Unchanged. If you don't yet, please contact me at backanalleyAT gmaildotcom. Easy twitter: ampersandbearc a/k/a atbearc