One of the attributes my family always knew about my sister Leslie was that she was always drawn to performing.
She had the opportunity to sing at Carnegie Hall as part of the Manhattan Concerts Productions’ Song of Renewal on Monday, June 13. She and about 240 other people were to sing the Mozart Requiem. (I love the Mozart Requiem. In fact, I could have joined them, but I declined because of my chronic rhinitis and other factors.) And there would be other choirs as well.
Leslie ended up staying at a Club Wyndham on East 45th Street, starting on Friday so she could be at the rehearsals over the weekend. I came down on Sunday night via Amtrak and the subway. The best thing about the resort is the great view from the 33rd-floor deck. One could see the Chrysler Building and the United Nations building only a few blocks away.
We had a nice conversation with a couple from Vancouver, BC, Canada. They have a daughter graduating from high school and two younger sons. They had only recently recovered from COVID, but they had mild cases.
Wet cushions
The next morning, we were back on the 33rd floor. It had rained overnight, and I had quickly ascertained that the cushions outdoors were too wet to sit on. But my sister needed to check this out herself; ah, the cushions were tied down. (By 11 a.m.. they had dried out.)
While sitting in the lounge inside, I mentioned to the two women sitting across from me that my sister on the deck would be singing at Carnegie Hall that night.
I had recommended a video that Kelly had linked to, a clip from the Amadeus movie that was wonderfully enhanced. I showed it to Leslie later, and she loved it.
This led to a conversation about the white cliffs of Dover, which Leslie had recently seen in person on a Dave Koz cruise that Rebecca Jade, her daughter, had performed on. This led to conversations about Vera Lynn (who had sung the song) to Johnny Cash (who had sung the Vera Lynn standard We’ll Meet Again.)
Somehow, we talked about the Green Family Singers and especially the song Hole In The Bucket. By this point, the husband of one of the women had joined us, and he recorded us performing a snippet of it. (We hadn’t had a chance to warm up the vocal cords. Just sayin’.) One of the women was so enamored by my sister that she gave her a big hug.
This is how I spent part of my time seeing my sister Leslie for the first time since the aftermath of her bicycle accident in the summer of 2018. This was a much more pleasant occasion.
BTW, this is Leslie’s XXth birthday. More on this narrative in three days.