Music and Protests

This is Miuki. More about her in a moment!

I had a very busy day yesterday. I had a couple of social outings in town and, with a little wandering in between,  I was gone from 10 a.m. until about 9 p.m. And then I slept in this morning! So I am still way behind in the online world, but I'll catch up.

First, Dave and I had an 11 a.m. concert of wind orchestra music at Royal Albert Hall. This was part of the BBC Proms series, and it was a fairly long program in print. When we got to the theater and took our seats, I was nervous about how long the concert might turn out to be. But the pieces turned out to be fairly succinct, and we were done in a couple of hours. Composers included Ralph Vaughan Williams (who we heard through the auditorium doors because we were late), Malcolm Arnold, Percy Grainger, Gunther Schuller and Michael Tippet. The Schuller piece was a challenge. For me, I mean.

Afterwards, Dave, his co-worker Carolyn and I went to lunch at a nearby pub. I'd planned to go back to West Hampstead and spend the afternoon at home before meeting a visiting friend for dinner, but we left the pub at 3 p.m. and I was meeting my friend at 5 p.m., so I'd spend most of the intervening time on the tube. I decided to kill those few hours in Westminster instead.

Dave and Carolyn left and headed north, where Dave got accosted on the train by someone wearing a Jesus shirt and asking him why he wasn't on his knees praying RIGHT NOW to save his mortal soul. (I heard about it later.)

I, meanwhile, wandered over to Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square, where I came across multiple protests.

First, there were people from this organization protesting against the mistreatment of cats in China. They stood at the fountain in Piccadilly Circus in cat masks holding posters. Apparently they have a petition which is no doubt available through their web site. Forgive me if I am skeptical that Chinese authorities are going to care about a petition signed by people in London, but hey, I admire their effort. This is where I met Miuki, whose owner let me photograph her with the understanding that I would sign their petition, which I haven't done yet. Must get on that.

I bought a cup of coffee at Pret and took it to St. James Park, where I sat on the steps of a large monument to drink it. Two large families with noisy kids joined me, one on either side, and then a branch fell off a tree behind us and a terrified squirrel shot out of the greenery and scampered directly over my foot! I decided that place was way too chaotic, finished my coffee and got out of there.

At Trafalgar Square I found a march protesting the treatment of the Tamil people in Sri Lanka...

...and a protest against the application of the death penalty in Iran. (I'm against the death penalty anywhere, so that one resonated with me.)

Finally it was time to meet Jesse and Jennifer for dinner. I know Jesse from my years of Zen practice in New York, and I met his partner Jennifer about nine years ago when they last visited London. It was great to see both of them again and get caught up on life at the Zendo. Even though I don't practice anymore I feel connected to that time of my life and I wouldn't say I've turned away from Zen. More like I've just hit pause. Maybe I'll reawaken my practice once I retire.

Remember that New Yorker article about sitcom pioneer Gertrude Berg that I mentioned a couple of months ago? It cited Jennifer favorably as the author of several books, including one about women in television that included Berg. It was fun to hear from Jennifer what it was like to participate in that article. Seeing her name was such a surprise when I read it -- it could be the only time someone I know personally (albeit slightly) has been mentioned in The New Yorker.

Last night I dreamed that I was on the couch in the living room, and Olga was with me, wagging her tail and being her usual goofy self. Dave came over to pet her and for a moment everything seemed so normal. It was such a relief to see her again, and yet we weren't shocked. More like puzzled. I said to Dave, "Is there some parallel universe where she's still alive? How is it possible that she's here?" He said he didn't know. Only then did I become aware that I was dreaming, but I woke gradually, so as her presence faded the relieved feeling persisted a little while -- until it gave way to tears, the first I've cried in a month or so. I suppose in a way that was Olga visiting us from a parallel universe.