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Funnyman - This world premier by playwright Bruce Graham was excellent and I'm so happy that the run was extended and that I got to see it on Saturday with Nancy L at our local Northlight theater. The play is art imitating life, while it's about life imitating art. It takes place in New York around 1960; George Wendt plays Chick Sherman, a vaudeville comic whose recent jobs have been tv commercials where he plays a caricature of himself. He's a curmudgeon with a grown daughter who doesn't realize how much her dad loves her. Chick's agent, Junior, is played by Tim Kazurinsky with with sweetness and wisdom. There is an opportunity for Chick to star in an off Broadway play written by a flamboyant southern playwright and directed by a snarky young director. And from there the story flows in the hands of these well-known talented actors. See it if you get the chance. 
A Natural Woman a memoir by Carole King - When I first heard Tapestry in 1970 at my new friend Paula's house, the album was so good that we played it over and over and over the entire weekend. There was room for no other music, and when I came home, I went straight to Korvette on Telegraph Road and bought it. Korvette's price at $3.74 was the best for almost any album, and Korvette was where I'd pick up my Keener 13 numerical hit list of the latest songs on the music charts. But I digress. Carole's songs are so simple and beautiful and Tapestry is still one of my all time favorites. Her life story is full of joy and success, but as with all of us, there were bumps along the way. She's super intelligent and thoughtful in addition to being a musical prodigy and songwriter and amazing collaborator. She is generous with her praise and with crediting others for the roles they played in her life. I loved reading this book, and couldn't put it down. It's as beautiful as she is. 
the life-changing magic of tidying up the Japanese art of decluttering and organizing by Marie Kondo - I read this last spring and immediately got down to Kondo-ing my closet. This consisted of putting all of my clothes (including shoes, purses and other accessories) from every dresser drawer, every closet and every room on Peter's bed and all over every surface in that room. Then I proceeded through the daunting task of going through it item by item and asking myself whether that item sparks joy to me. (You've got to read the book in order to understand the concept of sparking joy, but I caught on right away). I decided what to keep and returned only those items to my closet, arranged by season, type and color. The giveaway pile was huge, and much went right out the door. Then there were the items that I was able to sell at a yard sale. Now, sadly, I must report that there are a few piles left, consisting of clothes I want to sell and use to upcycle into interesting projects. My closet, however, is pure joy. I can see all that I have, and am pretty happy with what I wear every day.
The Secret Life of Henry Ford by John Cote Dahlinger as told to Frances Spatz Leighton - I don't remember ever knowing about the existence of this book let alone the story of a man who was Henry Ford's son by a woman who was close to Ford and his wife Clara. When I saw mention of it on the Clara B. Ford (one of my grade schools) Facebook page, I had to read it. What I did know was that there was a deserted and "haunted house" down a hill and in the woods behind my first elementary school, River Oaks in Dearborn Heights, Michigan. The story went that the dark house belonged to old Mrs. Dillinger and that her scary son also came and went from there. It turns out that the woman was Evangeline Dahlinger, and her son was none other than the author of this book. In 1978, John was in his 50s and decided to face his history and clear the air as it were. If you've ever had any curiosity or fascination with Henry Ford, this is another side of his story as told by someone who knew him as intimately as it was possible to know him.
John Dahlinger turned out to be a nice guy, born of a strange privilege who grew up wealthy during the Great Depression and at one point owned Cliff Bells and Act IV, restaurants that my aunt and uncle used to frequent, and for which I might still have matchbook covers. Uncle Bob loved telling stories, and I'm sure he had some from boozy nights in those establishments. But I digress big time, so I'll close once more by saying the book is good!
For the past few months I've been listening to a new favorite radio station called MeTV FM on 87.7 FM in Chicago. It plays any old music from the late 1950s to the early 1980s, with an emphasis on 1970s pop music. Modern day easy listening with no commercials although they are sneaking in with some announcing in between sets and playing a little too much Fleetwood Mac. Right now I'm listening to Take A Letter, Maria. Not for everyone, but I'm happy! It's so refreshing not to have to deal with personalities, but to just turn on the radio and get music. Thank you MeTV!
The Ruby Tear Catcher by Nahid Sewell - The subtitle An Iranian Woman's Story of Intolerance isn't a pretty enough subtitle for a beautiful story about Leila, a girl born to a Persian family, raised in an increasingly intolerant time in her country and educated in America. It's a novel drawn on the personal experiences of the author. It's beautifully written, and you'll find a tale of love and loss and good times and terrible times, open mindedness and oppression, and life and death. The tear catcher is a vase of sorts: "It's shaped to fit your eye, azizam, to catch tears. In ancient Persia, when a sultan returned from battle, he checked his wives' tear catchers to see who among them had wept in his absence and missed him the most." 
