I had the opportunity to go home last week, and by “home” I mean Binghamton, NY. It is, after all, where I was born and raised, and while I have many fond memories of my childhood, there are some dark clouds on that distant horizon as well.
In My Humble Opinion
With end-of-summer events cascading throughout the Upper Delaware River region, I suffered from melancholia a bit, for once again, it all flew by too fast.
Rumor has it that Labor Day is just around the corner, but I’m having a hard time accepting that as anything other than “fake news.” Last I looked, there were fireworks lighting up the sky and the lazy, hazy days of summer stretched out in front of us, beckoning with promises of fireflies and barbeques, tubing on the river and sultry afternoons
There are scads of reasons to love my job. Among them are the incredible opportunities I have to attend a wide variety of fantastic events being held at any given moment, scattered throughout the Upper Delaware River region.
Most of the year, I’m not all that fond of “adulting,” what with work, bills and obligations up the wazoo, but when summer rolls around, it’s easier to slip into the old mindset of a carefree childhood and make time for some good old-fashioned fun.
I’m pretty sure that William Shakespeare wrote those very words in his play “Twelfth Night,” but I’m too lazy to look it up and don’t want to bore you with the details. What I will share is that a passion for music (and opera in particular) was never more evident than at the Tusten Theatre in Narrowsburg, NY last Saturday night.
Believe it or not, I’ve been working at The River Reporter for more than a decade, covering the world of arts and leisure here in the Catskills. One of the challenges in writing this column is finding a common thread among the variety of events that I attend during any given week.
And I suppose it’s fair to say that I’m also a little bit rock and roll—but truth be told, I’m all over the place when it comes to genres of music that move me.
Remember Alice in Wonderland and the white rabbit? I do, and recently I’ve been heard muttering “I’m late, I’m late… for a very important date!” all around town. Even as a kid, being prompt was important, mostly because members of my family were habitually late for Thanksgiving dinners, cello recitals, school plays and the like.
It’s no secret that I’m a bit high strung, but I learned long ago that pharmaceuticals are not the answer for what ails me. I used to apologize for my idiosyncrasies, but the older I get—well, what would Popeye say? My friend Lynne was just here for a visit, and it was nice to have company for the last few days.