A new blog for a new website for a new decade early in a new century. The imperative to write something meaningful hits me, knocks me down and reminds me that once upon a time I had poetic thoughts about mundane things that would lead me to scribble and type way into the late night, even past midnight with a bottle of Folinari white wine next to me.
I have been writing poetry since I was five. My very first taste of fame still leaves me awestruck remembering my poem hanging on the bulletin board in front of Mr. Lipschitz our principals office at P.S. 96 on Waring Avenue in the Bronx. I had written and illustrated the poem with crayons. On the day of the big reveal I wore a red satin-quilted round skirt. I could twirl. I could wear fancy underwear and whirl around on my toes feeling girlie and smart at the same time. I could tap my MaryJane patent shoes and hear them skitter on the odd wooden floor outside just a few office in P.S. 96 where the floors were never tiled.
One taste of that sensation of adoration after toiling on the poem in the sadness of my time out for disobedience at home, and I was hooked on writing for love.
It’s 2020, and I am still writing, not for the love of others but for the peace and predictable gift of stopping time when I am writing. Wow! It’s afternoon already, who knew? Time passed. I wrote, and still write, calmly.
It has never been an illusion for me. The very fact that I have had several careers where writing was a rewarded skill set, and that I have had many successes in publishing poems and other literary ramblings, plus the gift of all gifts enabling others to write is my most meaningful inventory for this 2020.
Ina Chadwick Age 5,
There are some birds yellow and blue They sing for me they sing for you When it’s cold they fly down south And there they make their winter house
Post Script. I later named this poem Jew Birds because the old people I knew, Jews, all went South for the winter.
My mother-in-law, a widow, and a woman of confusing and often conflicting ideas, recently dug in her heels, though she thoroughly disapproves of any exercise requiring the use of her legs) and went on a cruise by herself.
Despite the fact that she claims to be unable to walk from a parking lot to a restaurant door, she managed to get herself and her multiple suitcases containing three outfits with a change of shoes for for each day and for each outfit, and three for each night, to the airport. Using handicapped travel services she was wheeled around the airport carrying multiple plastic bags filled with post-its and old expired coupons in her lap, and then again wheeled through the cruise ship long lines for registry to get onboard.
Presumably she walked narrow ship’s aisle – since she is not technically handicapped.
When she settled into her cabin, she truly settled in.
We called her several times when she was in other ports besides Miami. We had been very worried about her mobility issues. She is 85 and was befuddled at 45,((or maybe 25?) so this decade has not brought much clarity for those around her as to explanations of why she does this thing or that thing.
She has always loved cruises, though she doesn’t love the quick stops at other ports if she can’t stay in the duty free shops for five hours. Beaches and museums hold no interest for her. She loves the planned meals, the all you can eat concept that still thrills many of those seniors raised during the Depression (1929). Though she is a doctor’s daughter, she claims she grew up so poor that she didn’t have a nickel to go to the movies. We know that this is an internal feeling of poverty. Her parents owned a brownstone in New York City from 1920 to 1960-something. They may have had to cut back but there was indeed food and a place to live.
Toward the end of her trip when I asked what she liked most about the trip, she said, “My bed.” She had been sleeping in a 47-year-old mattress until eight years ago when she moved from a house to a condo. When she bought the condo she bought the owners’ 25-year-old mattress.
On the ship she slept on a “Memory Foam” mattress. She awoke with no aches and pains. She reported that she only got out of bed for dinner. “This is the best nap I have ever taken.” When we tried to convince her that she should treat herself to a mattress just like the one in her stateroom, her overly thrifty side went into overdrive. “Pay for a new mattress when the old one is still working?”
“The nightly rate for a cruise is what? ” I asked.
She didn’t answer.
“This was a very expensive nap,” I said.
Yesterday, we learned that my mother-in-law was driving around looking for a tailor to hem her king-sized bed sheets from the Flower Power days. Why? She bought a memory foam mattress that is a queen. “Why should I throw away perfectly good sheets?” she said.
This time I didn’t try to convince her that she could go to Marshall’s and buy a set of sheets for less than $25. She has to do her “own thing.” She will be a taking a much cheaper nap from now on. And she can surely call her linens custom fitted.
I’ve been a writer since the day I started speaking. Yes, even before I could write I was painting pictures of things that were happening all around me, and to me, and to others. Things that I found extraordinary and that other may have not even noticed. Most of the time what I marvel in is the stuff of everyday life. Today, I begin The Chadwick Papers (thank you, Mr. Dickens, and thank you Mr. Christy for naming these adventures and sometimes misadventures) which I hope will keep you amused at times, thinking at times, and realizing that we are all in a “story” together.
We are becoming mechanically whole again in our household. The last time we were whole was in 1988 when remote controls for the TV required batteries, before Blue Tooth, before touch pads.
I didn’t even know what items in our house ran on batteries until my husband was in the hospital for 2 weeks in 1988. Every day, I’d come home from visiting him, exhausted. I relied on network television as if I were sucking my thumb.
In the morning, I’d drag myself out of bed, ready for work, and as I have always done since I was a teenager, I’d weigh myself, gingerly stepping on the scale after removing even my rings. I feared weight gain, and if I felt fat, I’d wait another day, and maybe another, until I felt I could handle what the scale said without getting so disheartened that only a jar of Hellman’s mayonnaise with teaspoon of oily tuna could console me.
The hospital cafeteria and coffee shop, where I took breaks from soothing my husband, both before and after a painful spine surgery, presented salivating challenges that no one could surmount. Deep fried fish in batter that you only get in a alluring dives, french fries swept into a cardboard boat that made you feel like the antiseptic smells all around you were really boardwalk odors. Grilled cheese, bacon, and canned cherry pie al la mode. I indulged.
On the seventh day of his hospitalization, I weighed myself carefully. The scale didn’t give me a readout. There was nothing but zeroes in all three slots. I moved it around. Nothing. Broken, I said to myself. I didn’t tell my husband. He always thought I was nuts for weighing myself daily. On demerol he wouldve not cared at all.
For two days I also sat in our dark TV room because the intricate set of switches he designed for turning on anything had a master switch that I couldn’t find. On the eleventh day, the TV remote didn’t work. My home life was getting dimmer and dimmer. I sat in various rooms, ones where bulbs hadn’t blown out. I read in an upright Pilgrimesque chair in the dinning room, where two high-hat recessed bulbs were blown, but there was a working lamp.
On exactly the same day, both the old Sony TV in the remote and the cordless phone died. Oh, the phone charger and the bottom of the phone were not making contact. There is a remedy for that I’ve since learned. Rubber erasers.
That was it! I got up from a seated position and used an on/off button on the TV. It actually had those words rather than now ubiquitous red open circle with a vertical line . I went to a department store home good section and bought a scale with a real needle in the dial. One my doctors has a rusted Detecto one next to dreaded real deal that measures your height too. We all like that dial and the fact that the springs respond to a gentle step by rewarding you with a lower weight seems only fair if you take your time.
Over the past 25 years our home remote control system for working anything, including the air conditioner has become obscene. There is the LG, there is the Mitsubishi, there is the other thing that controls the Blue Ray, and then there was the stereo tuner control that required 10 lines of instructions so that even my young grandchildren who could program a space ship didn’t even try. They’d just yell out for “help!”
Last week my husband began a conversation in the car. I could tell where he was going. I had so objected to the million dollar BSR 10 Universal remote for the B & K that he purchased 10 years ago, (and still required several satellite remotes around its “Universe.) that he was now telling me he was going to make me happy. Finally one remote for everything! It did however come with a ten thousand pound box ( not to mention dollars) that needed two boys to hoist in onto the shelf below the TV, below the Apple airport, below the Apple TV to install an Arcan system in place of the B &K. He promises he will sell the B & K on Ebay.
Relaxing without the remote control
The Arcan came with a new remote, a clickie that is quite sleek and fits into a base like the phone on a charger. I have already tried to answer the remote when the phone rings.
Every morning for 10 days I’d find my husband with the new remote in hand, “programming it,” and finally “getting the pause button working.” I must admit it was a pleasure to turn on every media device in the house by just aiming this sleek baby at the device. I dropped out my clickie support group and began to feel free to watch TV. I even got so far as to learn all of the input options and music and film and actually see my computer screen at 52 inches wide. Whoa!
Nervous breakdown on its way. Christmas Day brings a revolt. The new remote won’t play the sound into the speakers, but only into a headset. Manufacturers guarantee this tres cher item, so it is going back into the box after we hire two sumo wrestlers to put it in the box and pay the shipping as if it’s an armoire.
Rabbit ears are looking better and better on the vintage bakelite TV we bought and got working just for fun.
TOTALLY Kimleigh made a debut in New York a couple of years ago at the Fringe Festival. Every critic, including the Wall Street Journal raved. She moved to L.A. where she is a sell-out and well-known talent who has been on the “Mentalist” and other TV Shows. On DECEMBER 8, we bring Kimleigh to The Bijou Theatre, www.thebijoutheatre.com for a jaw dropping solo performance that will have you laughing, crying and applauding the miracles of humanity. This is not just a woman’s show. This is a life-transforiming experience. See the trailers and make sure you get there. There are high wire moments in www.TotallyKimleigh.com
But the best moments are the ones where you see her live.
Doors open at 7 PM
Dinner is available, drinks are fabulous, table side service or auditorium seats.
Writers, singers and songwriters capture us, captivate us in ways no one else can. They offer us illumination for the dark spaces in our souls by baring their own.
Come. Join us on Tuesday, November 13th as “Opening Chapters, Closing Notes” brings both to Two Boots Restaurant. This expansion of the ‘Writer’s Cafe’ features writer/singer/songwriters offering their gift of crafted word through spoken word and song. The featured artist will Robert Steven Williams, an incredibly talented guitarist, lyricist and author from Westport. In addition, Tom Fiffer, author of the Tom Aplomb blog and a gifted storyteller, will be joining him onstage reading from selected short stories.
In addition to having a great night out, you’ll also be helping others. All proceeds from the $10 cover charge will be donated to the Red Cross for Disaster Relief.
Doors open at 7. Event runs from 7:30PM -8:30 PM.
Two Boots Restaurant is located in Bridgeport at 281 Fairfield Avenue. Call 203-331-1377 or visit www.twobootsbridgeport.com.
‘Tis a beautiful thing to be Irish or to be in the company of the Irish.
“There by the lake of beer,
We’d be drinking good health forever,
And every drop a prayer.”
~from A Lake of Beer for God, by St. Brigid of Kildare
And nothing goes better with good company and good drink than great storytelling. We’re in the process of interviewing storytellers and we have a quite a few names. The Gaelic Club will be open to the public for this event, which is rare indeed. The pub bar will be open for those who care to enjoy a wee dram. Do remember to bring cash as it is a cash bar only. Located on Beach Road in Fairfield, tucked away just off the Post Road, The Gaelic Club is a hidden bit of heaven.
October 18, 20112 at The Bijou www.thebijoutheatre.com. will be absolutely thrilling for, Joe Limone and Ina opening the evening, onstage for Adam Wade, www.Adamwade.com. Adam is the 18 time StorySLAM winner at the “Moth.” Adam is like the Garrison Keeler of the Northeast. Homey, adorable and humble. He’s able to make fun of himself. It’s a gift that has landed him nighttime TV gigs in Storytelling. The show will feature Ina doing two 8 minute stories, Joe doing a “clliff serialized story for 12 minutes, and Adam Wade is his incredibly likable way will make you stop, look, listen and care. He’s a rare bird. Vulnerable and funny. Mark your calendars. Adam has never been around these parts. This is big stuff for MouseMuse. Yay!
We’re back at Fairfield Museum and History Center and in celebration with the Emancipation Proclamation’s 150th anniversary, our Storytellers have got some stories for you.
Richard Epstein worked for the one and only man, his father. Liz Wachsler played a joke on a “suit” in her office who was too uptight. Harry Gambaradella took his 16 year-old grievance with his conniving boss to the cops. Debra Coleman was enslaved by her living arrangements with each job she go. Pam Booth scared the devil out of herself when she worked malicious magic on her bad boss.
It’s going to be an amazing night of emotional connection with six incredible stories that will touch you, entertain you and make you laugh. Won’t you join us?
Ina Chadwick’s MouseMuse Productions announces its alliance with The Bijou Theatre located at 275 Fairfield Ave., Bridgeport.
The Bijou Theatre is rapidly building its reputation as one of the hottest arts and entertainment venues in Connecticut. By aligning with well-known production entities such as MouseMuse Productions, The Bijou Theatre is enhancing its entertainment agenda. Maintaining its 100-year old history, the management of The Bijou Theatre invested in a complete renovation as a 202-seat multipurpose movie house and concert hall, presenting live theater and all varieties of entertainment. Amenities inside The Bijou Theatre include a top shelf bar with glass barware, table service for tapas, and a cabaret-style atmosphere.
MouseMuse Productions has been producing live storytelling events in many venues in Fairfield County for the past three years. Now, the alliance with The Bijou Theatre further enhances the power of the personal narrative as entertainment. The series entitled “Real People. Real Stories,” encompasses ensemble shows, both written and performed by the authors, (the owners of their own stories) as well as one-person shows that are inspirational and transformational in their truth telling. They are at all times riveting, poignant, often humorous, but always entertaining and provocative for further community conversation.
The first show being presented at The Bijou Theatre by MouseMuse Productions will be on September 29, “Under the Covers, Where Our Voices Have Been Hiding.” This is a one-time exclusive performance by a talented ensemble cast of mostly Fairfield County women who range in age from 30 to 81. The show was first produced by Jill Jaysen at the Seabury Center in Westport, last year and played to rave reviews and sell-out crowds two nights in a row. Each of the cast members has written their own story as if they were sharing in their diaries.
Dear Writers,
Hope your Summer was filled with experiencing, reading and writing many stories. We can’t wait to hear about them at our first meeting of Writers Artists Collaborative for the 2012 to 2013 season! Join us for a Writers’ Cafe on 9/19/12.Save these dates for our monthly Fall meetings: Held from 12:30pm to 2pm at Ina Chadwick’s house. The address is: 2 Redcoat Road, Westport, CT 06880 (it’s next to Exit 41 on the Merritt, also knows as Route 15, and is the first driveway on the right)
September: Wednesday, 9/19/12 XXXX postponed -9/25
October: Wednesday, 10/24/12
November: : Wednesday, 11/14/1
December: Wednesday, 12/12/12
If you would like to participate in our blind submission process this month, get in touch with Margaret via email to margaret.mousemuse.com: .We also hope you can join us for a few upcomin events fromMouseMuse Productions — visit www.MouseMuse.com for more details and the full Fall calendar:
Real People. Real Stories. (First in the Series) Theme: Under the Covers Where Our Voices Have Been HidingDATE: Saturday, 9/29/12TIME: 8pm to 9:30pmLOCATION: The Bijou Theatre, 275 Fairfield Avenue, Bridgeport, CT 06604 For tickets: http://thebijoutheatre.com/films/real-people-real-stories-series-under-covers/203-332-3228$20 and $25Our own Dee Andrian will be performing!
Fairfield Museum and History Center’s Promise of Freedom: 150th Anniversary of the Emancipation ProclamationTheme: Working for the ManDATE: Thursday, 10/4/12TIME: 7pm to 9:30pmLOCATION: Fairfield Museum and History Center, 370 Beach Road, Fairfield, CT 06824For tickets: http://mousemuseproductions.com/mouse-events/working-for-the-man/203-247-3346$20
Bring your friends and keep writing!See you at the Writers’ Cafe next week,
Margaret and Ina
P.S. Sophie Barnes’ poems was selected to be part of the Westport Arts Center’s “foodies!” 2012 Group Members Juried Exhibition. Catch her at the opening this Friday, 9/14/12, from 6pm to 8pm, 51 Riverside Avenue in Westport, CT. Congratulations, Sophie!__________________________________________
SINGER/SONG/WRITER (Words and Tunes)
Tuesday: 11/13/2012
7pm-9:00 pm
Introducing one of our Writer’s Café members;
Robert Steven Williams is very talented local lyricist and guitarist, who is about to publish his first novel will sing original stories, plus read for 10 minutes from his amazing work of fiction, “My Year as a Clown.”
Songsters and Writers onstage together for an evening that mixes words and songs.
TWO BOOTS, Bridgeport CT
281 Fairfield Avenue
203-331-1377
