Welcome to One & Done Sunday. One picture, and five links that are worth your time.
Here’s your picture:
It’s a total geek shot of my Superstar console. The question people always asked when they saw it was, “Why does it have so many colors?”. Looking at it from this angle, it kinda looks like the venue we performed in in Berlin last year. There’s a very Euro-techno feel to it. Plus, it’s dusty.
Earlier this month, we played our final performance of Jesus Christ Superstar on Broadway. It was bittersweet, as I guess these things always are. I’m better for having this opportunity to work with such talented–and nice, being that they’re largely Canadian and if they’re not nice enough they get kicked out of their country– people.
There was a party afterwards. I’m not big on parties and went to a yoga class instead, planning to swing by the party on my way home.
When I walked into the locker room it was nearly empty because I was running late and made it just in time. Something caught my eye: a prosthetic full leg, from just below the hip, on the floor against the wall.
Because the natural state of my mind is to be small and boxy, I couldn’t imagine anyone who actually needed that prosthetic would be down in the hot room to do yoga. My first thought was that it was some sort of prop, a possibility since this midtown yoga studio caters to a lot of performers.
They say yoga expands your mind.
I went downstairs and set up my mat. I looked to the right of me and there was the woman to whom the prosthetic belonged. She was tall, strong, and determined and there to do Bikram. I was humbled and inspired. I could not in good conscience sit out of a single pose that class.
It was an immediate and complete shift in my perspective.
I wished that I felt confident enough to speak to her after class, but I didn’t. I didn’t have confidence in finding the words to convey what I felt without those words being condescending, insensitive, or disrespectful. But in my eyes she was a goddamn rock star.
I don’t know if I’ll see her again or not, but the memory remains. I’m grateful for it.
The next day when I was extra sore from the extra effort I put out in that class, I thought of that badass woman and smiled.
Here are your links:
I just came across this post this morning and it filled my soul. Not much makes me happier than when one of my kids likes my music (and props to this kid for being a RUSH fan!): Pretty Girls Make Gravy: The Day She Discovered Led Zeppelin.
When your kid has to write an apology letter on the last day of school. Sh*t my 6-year-old-says: Apology Letter
Maybe some are staged, but I prefer to believe they’re not. 21 Pictures that will restore your faith in humanity
Get schooled on heavy metal: LA Weekly (thanks Deathrow Dan for the link).
This entire blog is worth reading, so I’m linking to the home page: An Athlete’s Journey Through Breast Cancer