Yeah, you read that right. I did not put away our mid-size artifical Christmas tree until this weekend. So sue me, to quote Nathan Detroit. I got better things to do, like stay in bed and complain, to quote Judy Tenuta. (Whatever happened to her?) I have not been to our upstate place in a while so we just left the tree standing. Removing the ornaments brings back memories because so many of them are from trips we've taken: a lobster from Provincetown on Cape Cod; a pineapple from Honolulu; a stuffed doll figure of Henry VIII from the Tower of London; Spongebob Squarepants and Capt. America from Universal Islands of Adventures and a Mickey Mouse from Disney World; a crayfish and some Mardi Gras beads from Santa's Quarters on Decatur Street in New Orleans. There are also a set of portaits of Batman, Robin, Catwoman, and the Joker, as well as Sylvester carrying a load of presents with Tweetie on top. There are also figures of Spiderman and several different Santa Clauses as well as Renaissance-type archangels. On top is a Father Christmas figure. I remember a Presidents' Day weekend about three years ago, I should have been working on my book about George C. Scott, but I goofed off and watched a Project Runway marathon. It was from season two, before I was obsessed with it. I watched several episodes I hadn't seen before.
Presidents' Day also had me thinking about Richard Nixon. Jerry went to see the Met HD broadcast of Nixon in China and I had seen the premiere live just before we went to Florida. From age 9 to 16, Richard Nixon was president and how I hated him. I remember my sister saying if he were elected in 1968 he would make us go to school on Saturdays. During the Watergate scandal, I yearned for his impeachment and we wathced the hearings avidly all during that summer of 1974. He was the boogey man, the evil villain taking advantage of his power and betraying the trust of the American people. I remember several years after he resigned--I was so angry that he stepped down rather than allowing us the magnificent spectacle of a trial in the senate--he showed up on Nightline with Ted Koppel. I screamed as if I had seen a ghost and I had. His hair was white and he was noticably older.
Now John Adams' opera shows a more human figure, pathetically singing of his days in the navy running a snack bar and selling the guys hamburgers and beer, desperately wanting them to like him. In 100 years, is this how Nixon will be remembered? Yes there is Oliver Stone's movie with Anthony Hopkins as a troll-like co-conspirator, but the opera may survive it and be performed around the world. How will this era be seen?
Nixon in China got me interested in hearing more modern opera and I looked up Einstein on the Beach on YouTube. It is hauntingly beautiful, but I doubt if I could take five hours of it. Robert Wilson's productions look fascinating, but I think his main esthetic is visual since he is also a designer, and not dramatic, so his productions look good but don't move you.
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