All posts by Helen C

Family, Music

High School Musical

I am currently sharing piano duties in a production of “Jesus Christ Superstar” at my niece’s high school. Hanging around the school has brought back memories of my own high school musical experiences, and other general high school memories. Also, this particular choice of musical is steeped in 70s culture.

Compared to my niece’s school, I went to a big, anonymous suburban institution. There were some 700 kids in my class alone. My younger brother graduated with 900 in his class. My niece’s school has 150 kids total by design.

I’m not particularly nostalgic for high school. When I was about 23 years old I felt immensely relieved that I was no longer subject to the vagaries of high school popularity. It wasn’t bad, but I was perpetually ill at ease during my four years. I was quiet and moderately well-liked. I had a few good friends, a “safe” boyfriend who wasn’t likely to break my heart, activities I enjoyed. But I never really relaxed into anything.

How does one get to be so wary? Is it some kind of survival instinct? Empirically, I was never treated badly. I was never elected prom queen only to have a bucket of pig blood poured on my head for a joke. I’m sure someone must have been a little bitchy to me at some point, but nothing stands out in memory. I had no excuse for hanging back so cautiously.

This week of rehearsal immersion has been a lot more fun than I remember high school being. There’s an enormous co-operative spirit that is uplifting. And the music really does rock.

Fall

Morning song

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I miss the birdsong in the mornings now.

I wake up in the dark cold; The fire is out. I move softly in the kitchen, thick wool socks gliding on linoleum. The dog listens at the top of the stairs for the sound of dry food hitting metal dish.

The coffee smells good, warms me. I choose the most beautiful white birch log because the bark catches fire best.

Outside the garden is covered in a light frost. I hear a flock of geese, high overhead, telegraphing their departure in staccato voices.

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Where I am not

I am not in Charleston today.

Today is a brilliant fall day. The leaves have all pretty much come off the trees, but the sky is bright blue. I can see the river across the street again; in summer, the foliage blocks the view. The frosty nights have not yet completely decimated the garden. Sure, the morning glories and zinnias are gone but the roses are thriving and the calendula are having one last mad fling. I love to sit on the front steps in the autumn sun and enjoy these last glorious moments.

“Everything dies, baby, that’s a fact. But maybe everything that dies will some day come back.”

This weekend will be given over to house cleaning and getting my life back under control, but for now I’m going to soak up the sun.