Every once and a while, my Future Hubby gets a hankering for Mexican food. He's a California boy that I mercilessly yanked from the ground and transplanted here in the Mitten, so I understand when occasionally he misses the foods from his previous life and yearns for a taste of authentic Mexican, or for a really awesome Pork Bao. (Oh, who am I kidding? I'm the one who misses the Pork Bao.) Anyway, to stem the cravings, last week we bought a bunch of different types of chilies and limes at
Horrocks and cooked up a batch of beautiful, fiery red salsa, which we paired with a giant pork roast done up carnitas style, spiced with cumin and cinnamon and nicely crusted up on the outside, and warmed corn tortillas. Heaven! Miss Peach ate four tacos, plus her beans and rice.
This week, Miss Peach is visiting her grandparents (her
halmeoni and harabeoji) in New Jersey with her father, so FH and I have a little bit more free time that we normally do. So yesterday, we gathered up my father, piled into his red VW/Subaru hybrid hippie bus and hit the road to
Old Town. I think most every city that's at least mid-sized has an "old town" district, some historic part of the city that was once awesome, then abandoned, then awesome-ed up once more by turning it into an funky art district. But OUR Old Town is better than your Old Town because 1) my brother has a huge studio apartment there, where we can see the main stage during music festivals and have drinks without dealing with the beer tent or the porta-potties, and 2) we have
Pablo's Panaderia, the absolute best authentic Mexican restaurant in the area. Which, incidentally, is located right next door to the
Absolute Gallery, where I've been working with the owner to display/sell some of my tatted jewelry. We were there for reason #2: Pablo's. We all had tortas, which are these really lovely toasted sandwiches brimming with meat and beans and cheese, avocado, tomato, onion, and hot peppers. My father and I had pork, and FH had his filled with al pastor, which is basically barbecued pork that's carved off of a vertical spit, kinda like gyro meat. (Jeez. I'm reading this over and just realized... we eat a lot of pork! But it's oh so tasty!)
Our next planned stop was Riverwalk Theater to browse some scripts, since FH and I have recently decided that we would like to get involved in theater again. I was heavily involved in theater in my younger days, before ultimately deciding to major in music. Though he's a writer now, FH actually got two degrees in theater performance from a pretty prestigious conservatory in LA. (I don't believe I have to mention it's name, do I? I told you he was a California boy) But since we were leaving Pablo's and the Absolute Gallery was right there, we took a moment to look around and talk to the owner, Kathy Holcomb, to see when my jewelry would be out for display. It's been a few weeks since I gave it to her, but in the time since then JazzFest happened right outside her shop door along with all manner of other distractions, so she really hasn't had the chance to put it out. But she Promised, Promised, Promised to have it out by evening time, as she was hosting two staged readings that night as part of the
Renegade Theater Festival and she wanted it to be seen by the extra traffic that was going to be coming in. Now this is a beautiful, decorative, and eclectic gallery/shop, and FH and I couldn't possibly imagine how she was going to fit a play area in there. So we Promised, Promised, Promised that we would be back to see the show, and off to Riverwalk we went.
The
Riverwalk Theater is an intimate stage built in a old warehouse on the Grand River, where I was cast in my first non-school show at 13 years old. It was the stage play version of
Lil' Abner. I sang as part of the chorus, pretended really had to dance, yanked off a man's fake arm during the Sadie Hawkins Race, and covered myself in dirt makeup and blacked out teeth up as a member of the filthy (even by the standards of Dogpatch, USA) Scragg family. I was totally, hopelessly in love with all of it. I'm not sure I can really describe how it felt taking FH there and showing him where my life in the performing arts started for me. Of course it was fun, but it was also kind of sweet and nostalgic. After wandering around the lobby and listening to the sounds of rehearsal down the hall, we went to the office and met Mike Siracuse, who was super nice. He gave us a list of all the scripts in the theater library, volunteer forms, pamphlets of all the auditions going on in the city and surrounding areas, and even gave us a tour of a second stage area where they do dark night style performances, something that didn't exist when I was there, but is a great addition. Mike also gave us a bit more information about the Renegade Festival. At its most basic level, it's an Event: a free series of readings, quirky dark night style One Acts, new material, works in progress, and live music staged in unconventional places in and around a ten block radius, including Old Town. But it's really an educational mission to bring theater- in all its forms- to a public that may be a bit skeptical of more formal setting, and a way for local artists and playwrights to get an audience and feedback for projects that might otherwise not be seen. I think that if we hadn't already decided to attend after talking to Kathy back at the gallery, we would have jumped on board after talking to Mike. I can't wait to get back into performing. FH says not to get to excited, 'cause they may not like us (he's right, of course- there's no accounting for some peoples taste) but I get happy just thinking about it.
So after a bit of down time at home, FH and I returned to the Absolute Gallery (Kathy had impressively moved every rack and display case in her second room to the back and front window, gaining enough space to set up six chairs and stands for the actors and about 30-40 folding chairs for the audience) and saw staged reading of a work in progress by local author Katie Doyle. It was an interesting piece about the intersecting life stories of Michiganders from all over the state, and consisted mostly of monologued vignettes which break the fourth wall, meaning they directly address the audience. I mostly enjoyed it, but I must confess that what I enjoyed more was seeing two or three ladies- total strangers!- pondering over my jewelry that Kathy had informally arranged on the counter near the cash register. That was a true triumph for me and probably the highlight of my day. After the show, FH grabbed an opportunity to chat with the author about her characters, and introduced himself to Chad Badgero, one of the co-organizer's of the Renegade Festival, while I sat outside and listened to a band that had set up in a small amphitheater on the corner. As it turns out, Kathy had told Chad about us, our theater background, and FH being a writer, and had suggested we meet him. He seemed friendly and asked for a card, so I think all and all it was a very successful evening.
I guess the reason I'm telling you all this is because I think it's important to share the way life brings you round full circle sometimes. With all that FH and I have been through, separately and together, financially, career-wise, health-wise, family shake-ups, people and things that make it their business to pull you off your path; all the little nagging difficulties that come with simply being a part of the human race. When I think of how far I strayed from my own happiness, it's nice to know that this is where you can end up: doing things you love on a beautiful day in late summer and having someone to share it with.
See you next time!
Love, Stephie
Plans for the kitchen: I'm not sure, something delicious. Or not. At least it will take care of the hunger pangs.
Plans for the needles:
Mrs. Whatsit garment
On the nightstand:
The Forty Rules of Love: a novel of Rumi by Elif Shafak
On the boobtube:
The Breakfast Club, once again via the (intermittent) power of Netflix
