A View from the Bridge, WOTS

I've been thinking more about what my friend Mary said - about my "efficiency" and how do I get such a lot done and get around so much? And there are two very big reasons which might not be self-evident: as opposed to someone with a husband who lives in the Beach, like Mary, I am single, and I live very close to many venues. If I want to do something, I don't have to consult, check calendars, persuade, wait - I just buy a ticket and go. And usually, I set off at the very last minute, because on my bike it's a hop and skip to see a play, film, art show or concert.

This Saturday, I left on my bike at noon for a film at 12.30, and I left that early only because it was sold out. And rightly so - Arthur Miller's "A view from the bridge" in a brilliant National Theatre production, directed by Ivo von Hove, at National Theatre Live. Once again, how grateful I am for this initiative - fantastic theatre at the cinema. This is one I would have liked, like my friends Jean-Marc and Richard, to have seen live, because even on the screen, this Greek tragedy set in Brooklyn  packed an enormous punch. Superb, extremely moving, beautifully acted and directed, just the best. I could have done without the "theatre of mess" shower of blood at the end. Sorry, spoiler alert. But otherwise, great.

And then, hop on the bike and home in ten minutes. That's how I get so much done. Well, and also because I am a multi-tasker by birth. I never leave a room without carrying something from A to B, never go on an excursion or an errand without figuring out if I can kill two birds etc. Friends make fun of me because I am always plotting the most efficient route and time of day to get around. Cannot help myself. I've always blamed that peccadillo on my New York genes. New Yorkers are insane like that.

And anyway - who says I've accomplished a lot in my 66 years? Some people my age have written 20 or more books by now! I'm a sloth, a total slug in comparison.

Speaking of which - Word on the Street today. I was there first with Eli who had a sleepover here last night - lots of fun. But he was not feeling well at the book event so we took it easy - watched TVO Kids events and went to some kids' book readings, where he lay down in my lap and fell asleep. I hope he's okay - his mama came to meet us and take him home. I stayed to go to the grown-up side where, I confess - though I always set out full of joy for this grand event celebrating writers and books - I got extremely depressed. So many books! So many writers! And yet not one of my books there, anywhere. And around this corner, a publisher who said no, and over there a former student I don't want to talk to, and over there ANOTHER publisher who said no. I bought "Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day" and "Horton Hears a Who" and went home.

At breakfast, Eli asked me, "Glamma, can you make your arm fart?" How come no one has ever asked this efficient woman that vital question before?

From my editor friend Chris: Beautiful Yiddish saying I just found: To the unlearned, old age is winter; to the learned, it’s harvest time.

Especially cucumbers.