OK, I've made it out to Cincinnati. I've had some really odd and hard thoughts as I made my way here, some on my way out to Moab, Utah (where I was performing at the Moab Music Festival with my dear friend and colleague Michelle Ellsworth), other thoughts on my way out here, to the Nasti Nati proper. So first off, as I was flying out to Utah, as we lifted off from JFK, I got a good view of Belmont Racetrack, and then I remembered that the cemetaries in Elmont were right there. My grandparents and all their extended family up to my father's generation are buried there. And then I thought about my dad, and his grave out in the center of Long Island (in what is essentially the annex of the Elmont area). And I thought, "I'm leaving my family, my father, stranded there in New York. I won't be able to get back to visit very easily." It's not that I make my out to the graves so often, but it's one more step removed from that small village idyll where your family is buried nearby and so therefore never really leave your daily life. And it made my deeply sad. Then on the way back from Moab, I was in a little plane, flying to Salt Lake City to make my connection back home, and the plane had a little turbulance, and I kid you not, I thought, "Well if the plane crashes, I won't have to move to Cincinnati." I thought that thought, with no irony. It was a straight up straight thought, completely rational, and totally nuts.
Meanwhile, Moab was great. Especially since it afforded me a few more days of complete denial of my impending life change. And now I'm here. Thankfully, I am being taken care of by Arna and the whole Fisher family, who are so wonderfully gracious and welcoming.
Trying to get ready for the holidays, and learn the script/score of the musical I'm directing this fall at the conservatory, and trying to find a house to buy, and trying to not freak out about all the changes that have come crashing upon me.
