So … it’s been a while, I know. While I’d like to apologize for that, I’m not going to. I’ve been busy. New plays, new work challenges, new friends. It’s been a while, but much of it has been new. All new. And that’s a good thing. Really. It’s a very, very good thing.
I started a project last week. I have a rolling file, full of all kinds of stuff. You know, bank statements, after-visit printouts from the doctor, school photos of friends’ kids. The stuff of life. The stuff, at one point, I figured I’d probably like to keep. And although I’m sure a list of the stuff I kept would interest all of you. I’m letting you know that I was pretty surprised by the stuff I let go. It was mostly cards. Lots of cards. Opening night cards, Christmas cards, lots of sentiment.
Some of it was really old, like the ticket stubs to my first Broadway show (Kander and Ebb’s The Life) Some of it was funny, like the card from a director friend telling me to “Break a nostril,” on opening night of Noises, Off! the first time I did the play. Some of it was sweet, like the note of extreme gratitude for stepping into a role with lots of lines and very little rehearsal. It was all real. It was all hugely felt, I’m sure. And I enjoyed looking at it one more time before I let it go. It started me thinking about all that stuff in the closet behind me. Who’s going to want that when I’m dead? I mean … why am i keeping it in the closet? I’m not going to use it. And I’m certain that Abel Ganz poster, which hung in my apartment for so many years, while at the time was really special to me … well … it no longer holds that much meaning. So, what do I do? (Look out closet, I’m gunning for you.)
My wife says I’m a purger. I think she’s onto something. I just don’t really keep stuff around very long.
I have this recurring dream. I might have mentioned it before. It’s kind of a nightmare in terms of the anxiety it causes. It’s always pretty much the same. I won’t bore you with the details, but the log line for the dream is:
Grant discovers he has an apartment he never moved out of, and owes 20 years’ back rent.
I’m not making this up. It’s a pretty nice place, near a river … in an unnamed town, and the long-benevolent landlord has died and his estate is asking for a shit-ton of rent. And the apartment is full of stuff that I didn’t know I even had. Maybe that’s where all the stuff I purge is accumulating.
Today I pitched a lot of stuff into the recycle bin, and piled up quite a pile of receipts onto the shredder. I’ll run them through later … closer to the day we pull our recycling out into the street. Here’s the last thing I want to share.
I came across a piece of construction paper. It was probably from an exercise with a work team a long time ago. It was probably pinned to my back, and it was probably prefaced by a speech that went something along the lines of, “Write on everyone’s paper a word or phrase that best describes that person.” It might have been an exercise in awareness building … you know, the whole “How others view you,” type deal. I don’t really know. But here’s the words and phrases in no particular order:
Brilliant strategist—vulnerable 😉
Grounded in what he does best
A crack up — in a good way
Notices everything
Honesty
Teacher!
Straight forward
Knows his stuff and a delight to be around — the one to trust with celebrities
Guru — oracle — speaker of truth
Incredible storyteller
Brilliant writer
↑This too
So … thank you. All of you, whomever you are. I really, really appreciate it. But today, I’m letting it go.