Heavenly Beds

I’m ensconced in a elegant Westin Hotel in Greenville, South Carolina. It’s located in a historic building, surrounded by historic buildings spread along both sides of a very long, tree-lined Main Street. The downtown oozes old-fashioned Southern charm. Main is lined by nice restaurants, boutiques and antique stores.

Greenville’s old economy was driven by knitting and textile mills. In the past five years most of them have closed; the economy now is driven by banking and the nearby BMW plant in Greer, SC. There are not a lot of touristy activities to be pursued in this area of South Carolina, but I do think it will be a pleasant low-key week for all us as we perform “Evita” at the nearby Peace Center. Anchored by the comfort of our first-rate hotel, it should be a relaxing time before we begin a month-long break from the show.

The Westin Hotels (Starwood Resorts) promote their “heavenly” beds and they definitely live up to their celestial label. I slept better last night than I have in months; the bed is even more comfortable than my bed at home. I’m happy for the comfort of the bed, as rest is paramount to getting well. I’ve become one of the walking sick people in the show. I’m putting up a battle, but the crud has made progress. It will take extra preparation this week in order to sing well, to finesse the rough edges of my voice, but I’ll do what I can not to miss. We’ve been short-handed as it is and there are people performing who are in a lot worse shape than me. There are times that the old saying, “the show must go on”, is true.

We had another rough travel day. Delta scheduled our flights from Tampa to Greenville with a 38-minute layover in Atlanta. We bused an hour from Sarasota to the Tampa airport which was a madhouse in the first Monday after the New Years holiday weekend; the self-check-in terminals were inefficient because there wasn’t enough staff to handle baggage. The plane left Tampa late, leaving our group of 46 even less time to run from the furtherest gate in Concourse T, take a train two stops, run up a steep escalator and board at a gate at the far end of Concourse B.

Our flight to Greenville was overbooked and six of our folks elected to give up their seats for compensation. This same flight took off nearly an hour late, but when we arrived in Greenville the bags for 12 of the 46 people with “Evita” on the Delta flight didn’t arrive with them, despite the extra time on the ground. It made the cleanliness and comfort of the Westin even more appreciated once were able to check in.

Maybe it’s the fatigue, or my not feeling well, but I’m going to address a situation I’ve found here on livejournal which has made me consider leaving the site. I use my journal to catalog my experiences on tour, to address broad issues such as family dynamics, friendship, theater, travel, politics, etc. I don’t use it as a dating pool, nor as a tool of self-worth or popularity.

I understand that blogging takes time and that I have more free time during the day than many of my friends have to do so. I understand that interest in the site ebbs and flows, as life interferes and/or entertains away from this virtual world. There are certain “friends” on the site whose posts I look eagerly forward to and whose posts I miss when they take breaks from writing. The anticipation of reading their words is what keeps me coming back to the site.

I enjoy reading the journals of my “friends”, who each have their own style and agendas. I appreciate the sense of fun, the well-written entries. Usually, if I don’t like something that I read, I just pass it over or try to make constructive comments. However, in the past few days in particular, I’ve seen a darker side to livejournal and I don’t like it.

Recently I’ve had people use my comments page to attack each other; others to use their perky social posts to slip in information that was hurtful to me, though I think it is more insensitivity rather than deliberate malice. I have only recently made attempts to be part of a broader social network, to reach out, to not travel such a solitary path. I don’t often, in fact almost never, blog about issues or feelings that I consider private. I only tell a very select few about someone I might be interested in, or an experience that wounded or other issues of confidence (as in confiding).

Just let me say that subterfuge doesn’t spare feelings. Blogging about someone using an initial instead of a name doesn’t fool anyone. Being clever-bitchy about someone doesn’t entertain, it demeans. Dating someone and not being forthright about the budding relationship hurts other people, the same people who might just have insight, an expansive heart and be there to pick up the pieces if the new relationship doesn’t work.

Allowing someone to develop feelings for you, when you’re only looking for greener grass to graze on, isn’t copacetic. I am not talking about one person, but addressing a composite of several situations. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m sitting at a distance and watching people get hurt and I don’t like it. I particularly don’t want to be on the endangered “death by gossip or mean-spiritedness” list.

We all have standards. I am determined not to make mine exclusionary, but to give everyone a chance. I don’t want to guard my heart. I’m tired of guarding my heart, but I will protect it if I have to. I don’t bandy the words “I love you” about. They don’t find air unless I mean them. I don’t throw them about in hopes somehow they will stick. I don’t use them to cover up, distract or entertain. If I utter these three words, I mean them.... pure and simple. I encourage my friends to use them judiciously and with proper intent. I am a great guy to have in your corner.

There are some wonderful men and women on livejournal ... honorable ... with integrity ... hopeful romantics... and they deserve our best. We all deserve “heavenly beds”. My maid may make mine today, but I’ll be the one to lie in it and any others from here on forward:)

Heavenly Beds

I’m ensconced in a elegant Westin Hotel in Greenville, South Carolina. It’s located in a historic building, surrounded by historic buildings spread along both sides of a very long, tree-lined Main Street. The downtown oozes old-fashioned Southern charm. Main is lined by nice restaurants, boutiques and antique stores.

Greenville’s old economy was driven by knitting and textile mills. In the past five years most of them have closed; the economy now is driven by banking and the nearby BMW plant in Greer, SC. There are not a lot of touristy activities to be pursued in this area of South Carolina, but I do think it will be a pleasant low-key week for all us as we perform “Evita” at the nearby Peace Center. Anchored by the comfort of our first-rate hotel, it should be a relaxing time before we begin a month-long break from the show.

The Westin Hotels (Starwood Resorts) promote their “heavenly” beds and they definitely live up to their celestial label. I slept better last night than I have in months; the bed is even more comfortable than my bed at home. I’m happy for the comfort of the bed, as rest is paramount to getting well. I’ve become one of the walking sick people in the show. I’m putting up a battle, but the crud has made progress. It will take extra preparation this week in order to sing well, to finesse the rough edges of my voice, but I’ll do what I can not to miss. We’ve been short-handed as it is and there are people performing who are in a lot worse shape than me. There are times that the old saying, “the show must go on”, is true.

We had another rough travel day. Delta scheduled our flights from Tampa to Greenville with a 38-minute layover in Atlanta. We bused an hour from Sarasota to the Tampa airport which was a madhouse in the first Monday after the New Years holiday weekend; the self-check-in terminals were inefficient because there wasn’t enough staff to handle baggage. The plane left Tampa late, leaving our group of 46 even less time to run from the furtherest gate in Concourse T, take a train two stops, run up a steep escalator and board at a gate at the far end of Concourse B.

Our flight to Greenville was overbooked and six of our folks elected to give up their seats for compensation. This same flight took off nearly an hour late, but when we arrived in Greenville the bags for 12 of the 46 people with “Evita” on the Delta flight didn’t arrive with them, despite the extra time on the ground. It made the cleanliness and comfort of the Westin even more appreciated once were able to check in.

Maybe it’s the fatigue, or my not feeling well, but I’m going to address a situation I’ve found here on livejournal which has made me consider leaving the site. I use my journal to catalog my experiences on tour, to address broad issues such as family dynamics, friendship, theater, travel, politics, etc. I don’t use it as a dating pool, nor as a tool of self-worth or popularity.

I understand that blogging takes time and that I have more free time during the day than many of my friends have to do so. I understand that interest in the site ebbs and flows, as life interferes and/or entertains away from this virtual world. There are certain “friends” on the site whose posts I look eagerly forward to and whose posts I miss when they take breaks from writing. The anticipation of reading their words is what keeps me coming back to the site.

I enjoy reading the journals of my “friends”, who each have their own style and agendas. I appreciate the sense of fun, the well-written entries. Usually, if I don’t like something that I read, I just pass it over or try to make constructive comments. However, in the past few days in particular, I’ve seen a darker side to livejournal and I don’t like it.

Recently I’ve had people use my comments page to attack each other; others to use their perky social posts to slip in information that was hurtful to me, though I think it is more insensitivity rather than deliberate malice. I have only recently made attempts to be part of a broader social network, to reach out, to not travel such a solitary path. I don’t often, in fact almost never, blog about issues or feelings that I consider private. I only tell a very select few about someone I might be interested in, or an experience that wounded or other issues of confidence (as in confiding).

Just let me say that subterfuge doesn’t spare feelings. Blogging about someone using an initial instead of a name doesn’t fool anyone. Being clever-bitchy about someone doesn’t entertain, it demeans. Dating someone and not being forthright about the budding relationship hurts other people, the same people who might just have insight, an expansive heart and be there to pick up the pieces if the new relationship doesn’t work.

Allowing someone to develop feelings for you, when you’re only looking for greener grass to graze on, isn’t copacetic. I am not talking about one person, but addressing a composite of several situations. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m sitting at a distance and watching people get hurt and I don’t like it. I particularly don’t want to be on the endangered “death by gossip or mean-spiritedness” list.

We all have standards. I am determined not to make mine exclusionary, but to give everyone a chance. I don’t want to guard my heart. I’m tired of guarding my heart, but I will protect it if I have to. I don’t bandy the words “I love you” about. They don’t find air unless I mean them. I don’t throw them about in hopes somehow they will stick. I don’t use them to cover up, distract or entertain. If I utter these three words, I mean them.... pure and simple. I encourage my friends to use them judiciously and with proper intent. I am a great guy to have in your corner.

There are some wonderful men and women on livejournal ... honorable ... with integrity ... hopeful romantics... and they deserve our best. We all deserve “heavenly beds”. My maid may make mine today, but I’ll be the one to lie in it and any others from here on forward:)