The Dentist

   So yesterday I went in for my first filling at the dentist. All alone. My dad dropped me off at the door at precisely the same time the lady was opening it for the morning. I was a little freaked out cause this was the first time I was going to the dentist alone, at least for something this big. No mom to look to, no dad to talk to and no siblings to whine to. It was kind of intimidating. Some nice things about our dentist place is that we have TVs over the beds so we can watch something while having holes drilled into our teeth. Another is that it's right next door (and I mean in-the-same-building next door) to where our big Christian radio station resides, so if your extra nice and mannerly you can just barely slip past the receptionist and get a quick peek at the DJs.
  Our doctor is also very nice. His name is Dr. Kooiker and I pronounced it like the word "kooky" for the longest time until somebody kindly pointed out that you say it like the famous brand, Quaker (Oats). Yeah, like I was supposed to know that. All these Dutch names up here continue to confuse me. Anyway Dr. Kooiker had me sit on a table and from there proceeded to numb my mouth. He wanted to know if I wanted a certain gas that would make me feel relaxed while he drilled, and I, the little naive girl, was like, "Sure!" Other than the feeling of nearly dying while riding a roller coaster at our local amusement park, the gas gave me the weirdest feeling I had ever felt in all my 17 years on this earth. I felt like I was slowly falling into a large cushion, kinda like a cloud, with my vision slowly dimming into darkness. Before it pulled me down to the depths of I dont know where, I asked them to take it off. Just in time for the numbing needle. Perfect timing. After the painful shot I didn't feel anything else... for two hours. He drilled and stuffed, stuffed and drilled until it felt like my jaw was coming unhinged. Just when I thought I couldn't open my mouth any wider, he would ask, "Just a little wider, please." The whole time I had three questions I desperately wanted to ask. First, why was it that every time he put a tool or his fingers in my mouth I had the strongest urge to swallow? Second, had anyone ever been fully prepped and ready for the dentist and suddenly had a really bad case of the hiccups? And third, why was the family taking so long to pick a house on House Hunters? (The show I was stuck watching during my filling) Sadly I was not able to ask all my wondering's, because by the time he was done, I didn't want to open my mouth for anything unnecessary. I just wanted to sit and try to feel my mouth and tongue. The whole left side of my face was completely and utterly numb, making it so that every time I closed my mouth I would chomp down on either my tongue or cheek. I didn't feel the pain then but I definitely did when the shot wore off. To the amusement of my coworkers, I had to go directly to work right after the appointment. My slurred words and constant water dripping chin made for many laughs. And guess what? By the time the left side of my mouth has recovered and healed, I get to go and do the right side. Yay!

Tulips

That bee would not stay still! 

Not sure how I liked this turnout, with the flower out of focus and the background sharp.

My sisters favorite.

 This is nothing compared to what my friends do, but I like playing around sometimes when I feel the urge to use the camera.

Fun Saying

In is down, down is front.
Out is up, up is back.
Off is out, on is in
And of course,
Right is left, left is right.
A drop shouldn’t,
And a block and fall does neither.
A prop doesn’t, and
A cove has no water.
Tripping is okay.
A running crew rarely gets anywhere.
A purchase line will buy you nothing.
A trap will not catch anything.
A gridiron has nothing to do with football.
Strike is work (in fact, lots of work!)
And a green room usually isn’t.
Now that you’re fully versed in theatrical terms, break a leg!
(But not really…)

The Juice

   I have a part time job with my brother cleaning our church and each time we go Vincent stops by the gas station and picks up a drink and snack for every one. This past time Vincent convinced me to get an all natural fruit smoothie. Once we got to the church building we both went to the kitchen and Vin poured me a cup of his to taste since I had a different flavor. I tasted it and then felt obligated to let him try some of mine. So I grabbed a cup, shoved it into his hands and gave him some. He looked at it and then at me and again at it and then tried to give it back.
 "It's O.K." He said nervously " I don't need to try that version."
 "What? You don't want to try it?!" I was flabbergasted.
 "Um... well, no, not really." He grimaced and looked back at the cup. "It's just that your sick with the stomach flu and I don't want it."
 I explained that all I had was a fever, which was gone now, and a cold that I was just about getting over. "Its exactly what you had Vince, so your immune to it now. At least for the year."
 He raised eyebrow and then slowly gulped down the smoothie. He nodded "Hmm, not bad"
 Then I had this scathingly brilliant idea. I immediately ran around the corner folded myself halfway into the large commercial garbage can and pretended (quite successfully I might add) to upchuck my dinner. You should have seen his face.

Bible Club

     Here are the hilarious things that usually happen at bible Club. 
   First Vincent and I arrive at the school, only to find out that we have to park a mile away from the door because of the oncoming cars of tired frustrated mothers who probably had to drag themselves away from their facebook page to pick up their kids. Upon reaching the Library where we hold the club, Mrs. Filcik throws a bunch of childrens nametags at us, all in a knot,  and has us untangle them in about 5 min. That may seem like enough time, but trust me its not. By the time that is done, John and his mom have the cookies, the horrible sugerie things, out on napkins accompanied by about 70 to 80 cups of good old water. Then Vincent and I position ourselves behind a table just in time to go up against a sea of children ready to say their bible verse and receive a hole punch on their name tags, allowing them a candy.
    The candy bucket is stuffed with more hands than candy most of the time allowing for easier pickpockets and thieves, so we finally dubbed Caleb the prize monitor. So he now stands there and gleefully catches any one stupid enough to try and get past him with more than they earned. 
    After that, we herd half the kids into the gym and play about half an hour worth of games with them. There is a long canvas sheet hanging up against the far wall of  the gym that provides a fun hiding place for the trouble makers in the group. Most of the time, one or two kids will sneak behind it without realizing that I can clearly see their feet peeking out beneath it and a very visible lump moving along the wall. So I take care of the situation by going over and giving a satisfying thump to the temporary lumps in curtain with my elbow. That usually gets them out fast. Either that, or me just grabbing their ankles and dragging them out, though I find the first more rewarding to my agitated nerves.
 We then rotate the children in the first group with the second and play another half hour worth of games, and then, amazingly enough, its time to send the kids home.  On the way back to the Library, we usually let the kids go to the bathroom. But this all ways creates a problem, because the boys' bathroom get so loud that I have to threaten to go in there myself and drag them out by their ears. At first they don't listen to my threat, but once I start counting to 10, about 12 boys will rush out the door, their hands dripping with soap and water and screaming that a girl was about to come in.  The girls dont ever give me problems in the bathroom. And boys wonder why every body always says that girls are cute little angels.
   From there, we send the kids home to their parents and we are stuck with the job of cleaning up after the tornado.  We have to push all the chairs and tables back to their origanal positions, and pick up all the discarded wrappings. Then for some odd reason we all fight about what we get to carry out to the car. its almost like, if you don't carry something out, your a wimp. Thus the mad scramble of finding some thing, any thing to carry out to Mrs.Filcik's car. Caleb has made it clear that the big white basket that weighs about 50 lb. is his, and any one who dares to try and pick it up with be in trouble.  My usual baggage is a CD player and the container of left over cookies. It may not seem like much, but when you have to walk through a crowd of about 30 kids holding the cookies high above your head trying not to let any one push you over or climb up you like a tree, it automatically makes it harder than even Caleb's white basket. Then after all is said and done, we say good bye to each other and unbelievably say, " See you Sunday and next Tuesday at Bible Club!" 

Sickness, Sickness and Some More Sickness

   I know you, my reader, are very upset with me for not writing in a while. Ok, a really long while. I'm sorry. But I can explain. The thing is, everyone here has been going through some sickness of some sort. I myself am just getting over a fever/cold that had me down for 3 days and even Vincent (the one in our family most immune to sickness) was taken down for 2 days. Now when your down and suffering, a nice movie and some apple sauce are nice to have around. Unfortunately for me, my little sisters were sick before me so my mom got a stack of movies that should not have been labeled "movie" but instead "incredibly-boring-try-to-throw-something-at-the-tv-to-stop-it" things. And apple sauce was out of the question due to the rising gas prices that constantly remind us that walking would be cheaper. No one wanted to walk to the store for me. And I figured something out. Your dreams when you have a fever NEVER END. Even when you wake up at two in the morning your dream is still going. Its insane. Tabitha woke up screaming while I was sick, and because I was awake already I picked her up and sat on her. Ok well not actually sat on her. Just tried to get her to stop screaming. Anyway, I had just been dreaming of giant marble columns that where slowly crushing the life out of me ( I know, not a pretty thought) so when I finally got the screeching squirming kid on my lap I say, " Its OK Tabitha, they're not trying to kill us any more." She stopped screaming and looked at me like I had two heads, which I wouldn't have been surprised if I really did. So now I'm on the road to recovery complete with red nose, chapped lips and sore throat. But here I am. I'm back.

My Friends Spring Giveaway!

   My best friend is a photographer (a really good one by the way) and she is doing a spring giveaway this month. To enter, just go to http://jobekahphoto.blogspot.com/2011/02/spring-giveaway.html,  follow the instructions and hopefully you can get a great gift!

The History of HCT

Holland Civic Theatre first opened in 1959 doing their small performances in the woman's Lit. club. From there they moved into several buildings rehearsing in the rented spaces and moving in to the Holland High auditorium over the weekend and then producing their 4-5 runs of a show. This was hard work because they had to wait until the Highschool was done with its space before they could move in. This made things shaky and unreliable. Because it was a Civic Theatre they didn't have much money and it relied heavily on the donations of kind hearted donors and the income of ticket sales that came from their few shows. They didn't have much choice. So year after year they kept up in their rented spaces, making props and rehearsing.
Then they found their building, an old Episcopal church and with vigor and excitement they plowed into the work ahead to make the old building in to a working play house. For seven years they used their new building for only rehearsals, building props to bring to the highschool and hosting bingo games as a fund raiser. But they finally dropped bingo realizing that it was not worth the effort that they were putting into it. They devoted all their valuable time to the making a better theatre. They made the old sanctuary into an auditorium with raised chair platforms to better help the audience see the stage. They did a thing called ‘Buy a seat for the Theatre’ to help provide the auditorium with seating. They encouraged the public to come and audition. Within months they were adding more performances to their list of things to do.  Many came with knowledge of the theatre and even more without, but with patience and help every one did what needed to be done. Within a year, they were doing more and more shows, going from a mere 3 to a staggering 7 a season. Through out the years the theatre has been helping others to open up and forget about being shy and sometimes to even find yourself in something you love doing.

Baby Showers

   The other day my mom took all the girls in my family to a baby shower being held for a young mother in our church. Because my dad was sanding and painting the floor in our house, we didn't want to leave Tabitha to get in his way. So off we went with almost everyone in tow. On the way over  Tabitha started to pout and after asking what her problem was she answered, " I hate showers!! Do you think I could ask if she has a bath instead?"  Needless to say everyone in the car started cracking up.
  " Yes Tabitha, you can ask her." Mom said, trying to hold in another spiel of laughter.
  Once we were there, Tabitha found a bowl of Valentine heart mints and dug through them until she found one she could actually read. The rest of the night consisted of her shoving mints in lady's unsuspecting mouths and saying, " I love YOU!!"

Love of Ireland

I don't know what it is about your heritage that makes you proud. I've known all my life that I am Italian, Irish, Polish and some Greek, and I have always been proud of it. Well not of the Polish I have to admit. I hate the Polish in me.  But thats not what I was here to say. I, of course, am proud of my Italian heritage ( I still have family in Italy) but I also am proud of my Irish blood. The other day while going through a jewelry catalog, I came across a ring that originates in Ireland. Its called the Claddagh ring. The ring has two hands holding a heart with a crown on top. At first I was puzzled. What did that mean? After reading into it I found that the hands mean friendship, the heart means love and the crown is for loyalty. Legend has it that an Irish young man was captured and sold to a Moorish goldsmith who taught the young man every thing he knew. When, in 1689 King William negotiated the return of the slaves, the man returned to Ireland where he found his love waiting for him still, even over the long wait. As a token of his love and thankfulness, he gave her a ring he made, the hands for their friendship, the heart for their eternal love and the crown for their loyalty. They soon married and never separated. The ring is very popular in Ireland even now. People use it for engagement rings, purity rings and even wedding rings. The way you wear it also means something. If you wear it with the point of the heart towards you, then it means you are taken or romantically involved. If the point of the heart is  towards the tip of your finger then you are available and not with someone. When you wear the ring on your wedding finger, you are engaged or married. I thought it was very interesting and Irish, thus I looked into getting one for my purity ring.  I will proudly wear the Irish ring for a long time.

Look What I Found In the News!

HOLLAND — It sometimes takes some extra work, but the show must go on, said Holland Civic Theatre producer Brian M. Everitt.

A 30-foot awning on the front of the theater at 50 W. Ninth St. collapsed after Wednesday’s blizzard, blocking the stairs and handicapped ramp.

“You have to do what needs to be done to get the show on,” said Everitt, who used sockets and a wench to dismantle the awning just hours before the 7:30 p.m. opening Thursday of the theater group’s new musical “Working.”

A crew lined up to help Everitt and grounds manager William Hoffmann Jr. was unable to make it because of other weather-related issues — like not being able to get out of their driveways.

“It’s just been one thing after another,” Hoffmann said. “At least there’s no snowstorm expected for opening night.”

He and Everitt didn’t get the awning totally removed in time for the show, but it was out of the way of arriving audience members.

The opening night for “Working,” based on the book by Chicago author Studs Terkel, was expected to be near capacity in the 100-seat theater.

Holland Civic Theatre building and grounds manager Bill Hoffmann works to remove the fallen awning before the opening of the show Thursday.

The former Broadway show is about the lives and work of average Americans and runs Thursday through Saturday evenings now through Feb. 19 with a Sunday matinee on Feb. 13.

My Cousin Paul

MONOLOGUE OF HEARTBREAK

"He adored me, and I adored him," said Cindy Furmato. "We love him, we want him back."

Cindy and Paul Furmato met 17 years ago when both were undergraduates at Florida Institute of Technology. They were taking a trigonometry class, and despite earning high marks, "I pretended that I didn't know what was going on and asked for his help," she said. "We had our first date in a Chinese restaurant, and we were in love from then on. It was just him and me. 

"He was my other half, and now I have to go on without him," Mrs. Furmato said, tears in her eyes. "It's the hardest for the children. Their father had always been there for them. "Paul just turned 11 last week, but Daddy wasn't there. Stephanie is 9. She always went fishing with Daddy. She says now every time she fishes, it is for and with him. Theresa is 6. She is very very bright, just like her Daddy. Every morning, I don't want to get out of bed, but I have to, because the children need me.

"He got me this house, and it was our castle. But we only had seven weeks."

Mr. Furmato, 37, was a vice president at Cantor Fitzgerald.

PAUL FURMATO, 37, DEVOTED FIRST TO FAMILY

At 37, Paul James Furmato had started to retool his life. He recently lost 20 pounds, bought a new house in Colts Neck, and was making plans to work closer to home so he could spend more time with his wife and three children. 

While he enjoyed his work as vice president and institutional sales trader for Cantor Fitzgerald Securities, Mr. Furmato knew every minute he spent traveling to the company's World Trade Center office was time away from his family. When the company decided to open an office in Shrewsbury, he jumped at the opportunity. 

"Instead of commuting on the road, he wanted to spend more time raising his kids and being close to home," said his younger brother, Mark. "The office was supposed to be completed Sept. 1, and he would have been out of the building." 

Mr. Furmato was among those working on the 104th floor when a hijacked plane crashed into the North Tower on Tuesday. 

"He was a wonderful husband. He was my prince," said his wife, Cindy. "He raced home every night when the market closed at 4 p.m. His happiest moments were being home with me and the kids." 

At night, he would coach his 10-year-old son's basketball and baseball teams in Colts Neck. On the weekends, you could find him fishing on his boat. 

"He loved boating and fishing with his family," said Mark Furmato, who spent last weekend preparing the boat for the next tuna fishing trip. Mark said his brother always seemed to be moving at a fevered pace so he could find more time to spend with his children: Paul Jr., Stephanie, 9, and Theresa, 6. 

"On any given Saturday, he'd have both his cars washed and waxed before anybody would be up in the neighborhood," Mark said. 

In addition to his wife and three children, Mr. Furmato is survived by his parents, Joseph and Margaret, of Point Pleasant and Vero Beach, Fla.; his brothers, Joseph Jr., of Point Pleasant, and Mark, of Brielle, and sisters Carol DeBenedictis of Point Pleasant and Jill Keough of Westwood. 

Funeral services will be held at 9 a.m. at St. Mary's R.C. Church, Phalanx Road and Route 34 in Colts Neck. A memorial service will follow at the Holmdel Mausoleum. Donations can be made to the American Red Cross, 1540 W. Park Ave, Tinton Falls. 

Awning in the Wind

   I walked out side of the auditorium after watching dress rehearsals and ran into Bill the other night. Bill was just hanging around the place doing odds and ends when he heard a thunk outside the wall. "The wind was so hard outside during the run that the awning blew right off the building!" He said excitedly. Then he pulled me over to the front door and pushed it open letting in a blast of cold snow and air. Through the swirling snow I could see our beautiful red awning twisted to the ground in a heap. Now you may think that its no big deal right? I mean, its just an awning. But to me it was a sad and depressing sight. You see about 2 years ago, my dad, Vincent Bill and I all went to the theatre and took down the ugly green awning and put up the red one. It wasn't easy though. It took hours of standing in freezing temperatures, blinding snow and blasting wind. I remember the day clearly. I remember handing Dad screws, donning another pair of Bills work gloves and Bill kicking me inside until I thawed out. After much work and sweat, (yes we were sweating) we had the awning up. And, if I do say so myself, it looked awesome. Now here I stood shivering in the door way of the theatre looking at the awning lying on the ground.
  "When are you going to put it back up?" I asked. Every time I drove past the theatre, I liked to look at the awning and remember that day and the fact that I had helped put it up.
  Bill smiled sympathetically like he knew what I was thinking ." The wind bent one of the supporting rods. It will have to be bent back into place first." He shut the door and pointed at the inside of it. There was a coating of snow about a foot or two up. " The wind blew the snow in the closed door its that strong right now."

  As I was leaving I looked at the front of the building and saw the awing being held down by straps that he had ran out and thrown on to keep it from going farther. I hope it goes back up soon. Maybe I can help this time too.

Dame Judi Dench - a school article

Judi Dench is best known for her portrayal of “M” in the Bond series, her fierce green eyes and her motherly worn face making a prominent dent on the big screen. Before she was “M” the British actress was large into theatre where she played many Shakespeare plays, and very well at that. The way she embodies her character and makes you believe that she is actually who she says she is, is what made her loved by not only British movie goers but also American and all over the world. She is able to portray a lovable English secretary, (in “As time Goes By”) and yet a scared and worried Lady Macbeth in Macbeth all the way to a harsh yet deep down inside, soft hearted head of Foreign Intelligence (in the James Bond series).
Judi was born in Heworth England December 9 1939 to  Eleanora Olave (née Jones), a native of Dublin, and Reginald Arthur Dench, a doctor who met Judi's mother while studying medicine.
Judi has loved the theatre more than any other form of theatrical arts, even more than sitcoms and films.
She herself describes it like this “I'm more comfortable on stage, where there is an audience to tell a story to, as opposed to a film set where you are not in charge at all. On stage you can hear an audience's reactions. Within two minutes of a play starting you know how the evening will go. On film you're more reliant on the director. The moment he leaves you, you're like a child learning to walk.”
Acting on stage to her is a greater fulfillment and she loves to keep learning. Dench has so many awards that I couldn’t fit them all on this page, so in brief She has won nine BAFTAs (British Academy Film Awards), six Laurence Olivier Awards, two Screen Actors Guild Awards, an Academy Award, two Golden Globe Awards and a Tony Award. The Laurence Olivier Awards is basically for excellence on stage in Britain. The Tony Award is the same thing but only for US Broadway.
When she was asked about growing old and getting replaced by younger actresses, she was quick to make her point that no matter how hold she gets, she will still be striving to do her best. And she stated, “ I know I can sustain a run ( a movie filming) because of my training.” Whereas, she would point out, the younger actors don’t have the experience that she does.
Right now she is filming in a number of movies, another James Bond, the newest Pirates of the Caribbean and a new Jane Eyre. These are just a taste of what she is involved with now and even at age 72 she is still very involved with acting and stage.   

Look what I found before cleaning off the counter. My sister wouldn't let me wipe it off for a whole day, until I came in with my computer and took a picture with my web cam. I don't have my own camera yet. We were all saying this looked like a long horn bull, and though I hated leaving the counter dirty for that long, I was happy to oblige Haley who wanted me to put this on my blog.  

My Holland

  Holland was founded in 1847 by Albertus Christian Van Raalte. The city was destroyed by fire in 1871. Since the fire, Holland has rebuilt itself to be one of the best places to live and retire in America. The Biggest thing we look forward to every year as a city is Tulip-Time.  Nearly 1,400 Hollanders participate in the Klompen dancing and the festival itself brings more than 10 million dollars in from tourists. Each year we are flooded with almost half a million tourists pouring in to see the tulips planted all over Holland. Ever year 470,000 bulbs are planted and it takes 14 full time and 20 part time city workers 3,000 hours in October to plant the tulips. The Tulip-Time parade consists of all the school bands in the area, close to 20, Klompen dancers ( a dutch dress costs close to $150) the Governor of Michigan and much more. Throughout the years, Tulip Time has received many global and national awards. Tulip Time has been recognized as one of the 'Top 20' events in the world by the International Festival and Events Association and  has also been in the Top 100 events for North America by the American Bus Association. Amazingly enough there is a $50 fine for picking tulips around town! And while you watch the dancing you need to watch your head, cause the shoes (made of poplar wood right here in Holland) will occasionally fly off someones foot. 

  This year Jeff Daniels is coming to our town, and many more people like Michel W. Smith and Amy Grant. Last year we had  President Obama come and that really helped put us on the map. Before that, we had President Bush stop in where he ate at our famous local ice cream shop.  As our mayor said, “Having the president of the United States coming to our community is something that doesn’t happen very often and is a tremendous honor.” 

Home Sweet Bed

   I have the privilege of sleeping in the same room as my two little sisters, no not the older little sisters, the little little sisters and they have this problem of moving. You may think that I'm being impractical right now but I assure you that I am not. We have this metal bunk bed that we sleep on, I get the top and the girls get the bottom futon, and no matter how lightly you push it, move on it or even breathe on it, it will let out this awful metallic groan. The bed is always slightly slanted and the noise is agonizing to listen to. So when I get in bed hoping in vain that the girls actually listened to my mom when she said no talking and go to sleep, I hear whispering and giggling and slapping and crying until I go insane. Then I have to lean halfway over the bed and try to calmly tell them to be good obedient little girls while the blood rushes to my head and makes me feel like I'm going to flip over the side. After that theres approximately three minutes before the whispers slowly increase to a full fledged fight or laughing contest and I have to do my blood-rushing acrobatic discipline all over again. The whole time this is going on our bed is making its regular complaints at our every move and after half an hour of "Good night both of you!" , "NO more talking!" and " Olivia, don't touch Tabitha again or I'll..." I finally hear... nothing.

The Day My Grandma Cried

   My Grandma is strong. Whenever I look at her she is doing something for somebody to the best of her ability, whether its feeding the family, playing with the grandchildren, sewing something up or grabbing the broom and whipping the filth out of her house after one of the many parties she holds. She has always put on a brave face in any situation and come out stronger and faster than anyone else involved. I admired her for that. But I will never forget the day that my strong grandma cried. The day started like all the others, slowly, happily and calmly. My grandpa was making his famous bread in the kitchen while grandma bustled around the table dishing out steaming hot eggs and warm Jersey bagels toped with cream cheese and butter. The kitchen table was heaped with every breakfast food imaginable with a couple desserts from the previous night thrown in. Sprawled in chairs all around the feast was my family, aunts and uncles, cousins and sisters, some slowly waking up to the smell of coffee and others diving into the food. It was another normal day at my grandparents. That day my aunt who normally took the 45 min train ride into New York City for work, called in sick and curled herself on the couch in front of the TV. Every thing was peaceful and lazy, nothing out of the ordinary. I continued through my day playing and eating, eating and playing. Then everything changed. Everything. My aunt screamed from in the parlor sending all of us running from our respective places. Grandpa bolted from the stove, Uncles from the basement and Grandma from her room all of us meeting in a large crowd behind my aunt our eyes glued to the TV. There was the most horrifying scene I ever thought possible. There was one of  the tall beacons of the NY skyline up in smoke. Before I could say anything, my wrist was grabbed by my dad as he ran towards our car. Everything was a blur. I remember looking in the back seat and seeing my brother fumbling with his seatbelt as dad pelted out of the drive way and down the road. With in seconds we were trudging through the sand half tripping half running towards the beach. Then I saw it. The building that I had grown up watching flicker its lights across the bay was on fire, the smoke it caused reaching up into the sky like a dark cloud. I could smell the smoke as the wind shifted it over the water and I felt my eyes smart as the gray vapor made its way over to me. Then with out warning a speck the size of a lima bean came into view and to my horror headed straight towards the second building. I could tell by its shape what it was, and I could also tell by the effect it had on the building that it did not miss it. The second building erupted into fire and smoke sending more smells and sounds across the bay. I watched as little objects fell down the side of the building. They weren't on fire, and they were not gray like stone or any other material you would expect coming from a burning building. I looked at them and then at Dad. "What are those?" I asked, realizing from his face that I didn't want to know the answer.
 " Those are people," he said grimly, "trying to escape."
  Right then and there the horror hit me full force. Not two days earlier I had taken a shopping trip with my aunt to New York City, running through all the major shopping malls and finally taking a tour through the tallest buildings in Manhattan known as the Twin Towers. Now I stood watching them fall, suprisingly fast I found out later, but at the time so glacially slow and dreadfully long. My body felt numb as I turned and stumbled back to the car. When we got home all was quiet as every one was either crying or spending time alone behind closed doors the shock of what had happened shattering the happy life we were living not 2 hours before. I went into the kitchen and saw no one but Grandma, her old apron held in fist fulls by her aging hands. Walking over I slipped my arms around her to give her a hug and looked into her eyes where I saw the first tear I had ever seen sloshing over the rim. I had seen my grandma cry, I had watched the Twin Towers fall, and I had witnessed one of the saddest days in our hometown and all of our great nation. I will never forget that day, seared into my memory like the hot metal that fell from the buildings... the day my grandma cried.

StageDoor Manor

  I want you to close your eyes and imagine a place where every one loves theater.  A place where children singing at the top of their lungs down the hallways to “Guys and Dolls” and “Wicked” is a normal site. Where the sacrifice of sucking on garlic all day to save your throat for rehearsals is excepted as necessary and where you live, breath, talk, learn and even sleep theatre. If you truly look at yourself as a dedicated and true actor, this place I've just described to you probably made your heart race, your pulse quicken and sent your hands reaching out to clasp at this fairy tale world. But what if I told you that it wasn't a fairy tale, that you could go and have every thing that I just told you about? Well, if you are ages 8 to 18, there is a place hidden away in Loch Sheldrake in NY about 2 hours from the Big Apple, that is devoted to the things that I have just painted to you.  Many people are just sad that the place is only for teens and not adults.
The Summer Camp Stagedoor Manor was founded in 1975 by Carl and Elsie Samuleson a couple determined to invent a theatre friendly camp for children.  Their daughter Cindy now runs the camp. Samuleson says that “ Every place they (the kids) turn, every body knows what they are talking about. When they go around singing, people don't look at them and go, “Why are you doing that?” All involved are doing the same thing you are.  At the beginning of each summer (the summer is split up into 3, 21 day sections) the campers have auditions and the camping directors take two days to cast for the shows.  Then the young actors have 19 days of rehearsals to prepare for the end show. The camp puts on 36 full scale shows by the end of the summer making it a staggering 12 productions per splint.  A regular day at stagedoor consists of up to three rehearsals a day interspersed with classes and recreation. Up to 270 campers now come every session with 155 camp directors, faculty and chaperons.

 The popularity of the camp has gone up since several alumni actors and actresses have come out of the camping experience. Robert Downey Jr., Mandy Moore, Natalie Portman, and Lea Michele are among the many who have made it big.  The camp is now usually crawling with casting directors and agents looking for new faces and natural talent.  Due to this, the price of the camp has sky rocketed and now its a little harder to get into it then it was when it was first opened. Now its a staggering $6,000 for a single session.  But despite the price and the location a now famous contemporary play write from Sheldrake, Jonathan Sherman states, “ My experience at Stagedoor Manor was, simply put, life changing.  It was the first place out side of the actual house I grew up in where I felt at home in the world.  Popularity wasn’t based on cosmetic appearances or athletic abilities or bank accounts or anything but talent and humor and intelligence... So I pretty much blame Stagedoor and Sondheim for most of the good things in my life!”      -Sara Furmato

1776

  Last time we ran through Delaware and Pennsylvania we stopped into Philadelphia and checked out the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. We happily discovered that the passes to the Hall were free and upon finding them, we followed the long tour into the Historic building. I thought, like many before me probably had, that if I jammed my fingers into the smallest space in the tiniest crack that maybe, just maybe I could touch a part of the wood that hadn't been marred by passer-bys and still had the touch of our great founding fathers. I knew it couldn't be possible, but somewhere deep down inside I still held on to the thought and hope. The architecture was breath taking and amazingly intricate and even though most of the visible furniture in the place were not authentic, the whole thing had me fascinated. We spent most of our time in the front hall, near the front door, and if any body reading this has seen the musical 1776 then you'll probably remember the stairs that the actors in the movie danced down. My dad did. He put Haley on look out for the Ranger, jumped the red rope at the bottom of the stairs and started to sing and dance to the musical. When his look-out announced that the Ranger was coming, he quickly exited the stairs just as the Ranger came over and told us the story about how the movie makers of 1776 wanted to use the stairs for the show. After a long and hard verbal battle they finally got what they wanted, filming the song "But, Mr. Adams" on the actual steps of Independence Hall.  While our little history lesson was going on, my little sister Tabitha had become an instant hit and model for some foreign photographers. She was walking and posing and generally making them laugh and snap their shutters. Walking over to the stair railing she rolled herself into it and smiled causing even more shutters to clatter. Then when she tried to roll back out, she couldn't, her little body caught between the curling banister and stiff spokes. Trying not to laugh at her horrified face it took several moments for Vince and I to push her out. The photographing audience clapped quietly as we left the building, Tabitha saying a sweet good bye to all of them. I will always remember that day, the amazing history and Tabitha's entanglement with the banister.

Waterford What?!

  The other day while talking to a friend I was informed that the Times Square ball is a geodesic dome built of 2, 468 Waterford crystal triangles that cost several million dollars! And here I thought it was just a ball that dropped. On our most recent trip to NYC we stopped in to see the ball, and we were actually able to touch it and get pictures next to it. They had it sitting in the visitors center surrounded by mirrors and LED screens flashing the history of New York. You literally had to squint around the room and hold on to the red ropes running along the walls just to make sure you didn't run into anyone there. Now that I know how much the ball costs, I can better understand all the security around the area. As my friend pointed out, you wouldn't want it stolen and you wouldn't want a bomb in there. Like that Times Square car bomb that had every body evacuated from the streets and several theatre's. Luckily they were able to stop the bomb before anything happened, but it goes to show that we can never be too careful. 


                                                                       

Vincent and Rachel in front of the Ball

Theatre Walls -a school article

A name here and another scribbled there, a date and then a title, and then a blue hand-print made with paint. Dozens and dozens of people have walked the small cramped backstage of Holland Civic Theatre, their foot steps causing the threadbare brown carpet to curl at the edges despite the duck tape. The sweaty hands of the hurried actors as they hurry off stage and into the dressing room have made the purple curtain hanging on the thin metal pole to fade and tear. Nevertheless I find the worn walls plastered with the names of actors and friends to be the most fascinating to notice. Its the one place that all actors unite to write their names to be remembered. To be seen by those coming and going. It gives our theatre a feeling of intimacy whether or not some like to admit to it and causes all of us to either stop and read or grab a pen and add our own to the pile of graffiti.

Its A Small World

   Every Friday of the school year I babysit for a lady who teaches science at a school once a week. This has gone on for 3 years, and I've slowly gone through all her kids, each year one of them leaves my babysitting duties to move on to school. Now I 'm on her youngest and enjoying every minute with the cutie. We like to run out side when its warm, read books and play hide and seek. They have a house behind them, their yards divided by a chain link fence, and the neighbors notorious dog that I've been told about that likes to bite strangers when they go over to the fence. His name, I was informed, was Blue. While chatting with my employer, she mentioned that the lady who lived behind her house was named Mrs. X,  and I realized that it was the same Mrs.X that had directed the teen summer musical at the Civic theatre that I had been in. What a small world!! And then every thing started to fall into place, the location of her house, the name of their dog her 8 year old daughter talked nonstop about and the car that was identical to the one I had seen Mrs. X driving. The recognition that came was weirdly overwhelming. For 3 years every week I had been staring at the back of a friends house without even knowing it. I had seen a dog with out knowing it was "the" Blue.

 The next time I saw Mrs. X I told her of the connection, and she was just as surprised as I was. I went over to her daughter and sat down. 

 "Hey, hows your dog doing?" I asked.

 She shrugged,  "Ok I guess."

 I was laughing deep down. She didnt know that I worked right behind her house. " Is Blue a very good dog?"

 Nodding emphatically, she answered yes. I raised an eyebrow, " Are you sure?"

 Her nodding came to a slow stop and her cheeks flushed, "OK, well, I guess he did bite someone...our next door neighbor. But thats all!" she insisted.

 I let out my laugh and told her I knew already. She looked at me quizzically. How did I know? Then I started to describe her back yard, things I could only know if I had seen it. Her eyes grew wide.

 "How did you know that!!?" she demanded.

 Then her mom came and ruined my fun by telling her that I babysat in the house behind them. We all laughed at the coincidence, and they gave me an invitation to give them a holler next time I come around.

Mr. William Hoffmann Jr. - a school article

 

I slid into the seat across the beat-up folding table from Mr.Bill and placed my notebook and pen down. I was here to conduct my first interview and was hoping Bill would be a good icebreaker. I knew that he had a lot of experience as an actor and many other things related to the theatre. He now sat across from me sorting out plastic changeable sign letters
for the Theatre’s reader board out front waiting for me to pop the first question. It was always a joke backstage among the teens that he was working with, that he was born on stage... little did I know that we weren't that far off in our assumption. At age 6 Bill played in his first role as an elf in The Elves and the Shoe Maker. He fell in love with acting and all the attention and appreciation that the audience willingly give. From there he went on to bigger stuff, acting in High School and Dance school.He told me that his mom was very supportive to his love for acting, but his Dad was more of the Sporty guy, so Bill went into some sports to please him. When I asked him who helped him with his dream of getting better at the art of acting, he told me he was lucky to have a great drama teacher in High School, and that when he joined in a dance class he learned a lot about the stage and the professionalism that is used. So I asked Bill what he felt on Stage when he gets up there. With this question, he placed the letters he was working with down, leaned back and fazed out. A smile played around his lips as he thought about the question. Then he looked at me feigned alarm and said, “Terror!” After my initial disbelief then laughing it off, he re-answered the question and produced a smile, “ I feel good energy.” He then went on to give me a lesson in how you can have good energy and stress. That there is such a thing as good stress and bad stress, you just have to have the right one.  Many times, he said, you can get too tense with the character that you are playing. You might be worrying too much or trying to hard. Well this is a perfect example of the wrong kind of stress. He told me that the best roles he played were ones that he relaxed in and allowed himself to come out and play the role. Give it your all in auditions but dont allow your self to worry too much. Just be your self, that way you can focus on the character and not the outcome. Come prepared though for the show you are auditioning for. Maybe listen to the music if its a musical and research the show before you get onstage for your cold read.
     Bill went to Wayne State University then Oakland University getting a degree in the preforming arts. From there he tried Dinner Theatre, which is exactly what it sounds like Theatre while you eat dinner, but the pay is not all that great.   Bill told me a story about something that happened to him on stage and it taught him  one of the most important things about acting. Always stay in character. One day during a production of Arsenic and Old Lace he was supposed to look into the window seat that the old ladies dumped the “dead” bodies in and pretend to see a dead person. It was supposed to be empty, but some stage crew wanted to make him laugh, so they had one of the stage hands curl up into a ball in the box, making faces and trying to do any thing to make him laugh. Bill had to look in at the man, keep a straight face, look out into the audience like he had just seen a dead man, and then look back in the box. He knew there was some one waiting there to try and make him laugh, but he had to do it. He learned that you always have to stay in character at all times no matter what happens or who tries to make you laugh.
 After a while he dropped out of theatre for the Marine Corps, and after that he got what his Dad would call a “real” job of Automobile design. Because of his experience at his job he was able to use that knowledge to build great sets for theatre. After that he got back into acting and I wanted to know what his favorite play had been. I expected Him to say some thing big and fun that he had done, but he surprised me by saying that his favorite was whatever play he was in at the time.This made me feel better and I told him that I always thought I was fickle because my favorite play changed so often with whatever play I was in. He assured me that it was normal to have that opinion. He said it was because of how much we put into our shows. All the energy and thoughts. He did make two exceptions though. The most interesting character he played was Macduff in Macbeth, and the most challenging part was when he was Abraham Lincoln in 3rd grade and he had to memorize the Gettysburg Address.Speaking about memorization , he said the way he memorizes his lines is by highlighting his script, (how many times have we heard that before?) and recording his dialog and then listening to it. His inspiration for acting came from his sisters who both went on to become professional dancers and, because of his great focus on stage, the famous mime Marcel Marceau.
    “If you could tell a young actor one thing, what would it be?” I asked.
He answered positively and firmly, “ I would tell then to always be humble. The last thing that a director or anyone involved wants to deal with is someone who doesn't care, or is very proud and hard to handle.” he also said to always look on the bright side. Your not going to get every part you audition for but that wont be the end of the world. He said he always looks at not getting a part as meaning that there is something better coming and that maybe the part that he wanted wasn't what he was meant to do at the time.
     So in closing be humble, do your best in everything and remember to look on the bright side.


-Sara Furmato

Strike - a school article

    
What actor doesn't know about the work day most affectionately called Strike? The one day that every one knows exactly where you are and what your doing. Strike is basically taking everything off the stage, cleaning up the backstage, purging the make-up room and clearing out the horribly stinky lockers. Usually no one likes to do this so we have to tackle people to the ground as they try to head out the door and shove a broom into their hands. Most of the time there is only one working power drill, the rest sputtering on the side lines with the last bit of juice in them and the only real contractor in the whole building is usually stuck with making sure no one hurts themselves or the stage. Everybody fights for the job of kitchen clean-up because of the extra food that you find, but the least favorite job of everyone there is the bathrooms. No one like cleaning the bathroom. At our theatre the bathroom doubles as a lavatory, paint storage and dressing room. Not to mention the large gaping whole in the cement wall that you can see nothing but darkness in. They call it Georges home, the theatres  very own ghost that lives downstairs. While every one bored with sitting backstage for hours at a time like to gather into circles and whisper away with ghost stories, I find my time alone downstairs an enjoyable interval away  from all the hustle and bustle. But at the end of the day, every body walking out of the theatre on tired legs and shutting doors with sore hands, we feel good about our work. We smile to ourselves at the thoughts of goof offs and mess ups of the past day, at the jokes and laughter that helped us through the work and the great time that we will be able to remember for a while to come. Strike is more than about cleaning and work, its about doing it with friends and having a good time.

Oh You Special People

You guys get to read some of the school projects that I have been working on. My dad wants me to post the articles that I wrote and hopefully you will enjoy them, but I hold no responsibility if you fall asleep while reading.
I will however make sure to make a distinction between my personal thoughts and school articles.  Thanks for reading!

Singing In the Rain

    I ran across this performance and thought it was awesome! I mean water on stage!! Thats crazy. Through-out watching it though, the little stage manager part of my brain kept thinking, "That would be me cleaning it all up!" But still this is soooo cool and they did great mashing the songs together!