22 January

Poem: Divine Old Dog. A Vampire Dog With A Twinkle In Her Eye

by Jon Katz
Twinkle In Her Eye
Twinkle In Her Eye

The Divine Old Dog,

surprises again,

she has navigated the world,

for 15 long years,

the winters wear her down,

but she has a twinkle in her eye,

on this cold day,

a hearty appetite,

a dance in her step, a bite to her bark.

What is it with you, Divine Old Dog?,

you are a force of nature,

an indefatigable spirit,

what is your secret?

well, she says, the twinkle in her eye,

a cackle in her voice,

I am a vampire dog, you see,

I feed off the souls of departed animals,

when one of them goes, I get stronger,

feel warmer, the bounce comes back to my step,

I soak up their souls,

how do you think I have lived so long?

and before I ask her if this is a joke,

or could possibly be true,

she winks

and blinks, and closes her eyes.

The vampire dog, she whispers softly, can live forever,

and soon, she is sound asleep,

on the empty bed,

by the wood stove.

22 January

Raging Fevers: Bridget’s Trial: Demolition Day

by Jon Katz
Raging Fevers
Raging Fevers

Bridget O’Hearn is one of the last of a sadly diminishing breed, the local independent pharmacist. It is not easy for anyone to go up against corporate chain stores, but Bridget is holding her own, the town is very committed to her. She is ferociously competitive, and she shows the people of the town every day that customer service is not a slogan, but an art. It makes all the difference when you mean it.

it is a love affair, really everyone in town has a story about Bridget coming in to open the pharmacy for them, dropping off Dad’s medications as he lay stricken, calling doctors on the phone to negotiate better medications, talking to insurance companies about reimbursements and plans.

Today, Maria and I are have succumbed to raging fevers – Maria hit 102.7 a while ago, I can’t get her to eat soup or salad, but she did have biscotti and a heart cookie for lunch. The best I could do. Our day began at the pharmacy.

I have been coughing since sometime last  night, and I hope to get my hands on some codeine-based cough syrup before bedtime, it is my favorite medicine. If I do, the blog will be very happy tomorrow. I’ve seen Bridget several times today,  she is a wonder, helpful, patient, knowledgeable, empathetic.

She deals with governments, doctors, insurance companies, pharmaceutical corporations,  corporate chain-store competition, every kind of red tape imaginable, and does not ever lose her grace or steadiness. Bridget has a lot to squawk about, but she never complains. She always listens, always has a smile and a good word, She is an unusual human being, we all appreciate her here. The pharmacy has been in her family for decades, she took over from her father.

Apart from the usual, this has been a time of trial for her, the building next door has been condemned for years and has been in danger of collapsing, in November, it almost did. The town told Bridget that customers could no longer be allowed in the pharmacy, as there was a fear the building  would collapse on it – it was visibly buckling. Bridget was allowed to stay in the pharmacy with her hardhat, customers were steered to an adjoining door next door, open to a tiny room staffed by the redoubtable Margaret, who sticks a label from every purchase up and down her arms all day so she can keep track of what has been sold. By evening, she looks like a modernist sculpture.

It was inconvenient for everyone, especially Bridget and Margaret, and the long lines were challenging in that tiny space. Bridget engages with all of her customers, it was strange not to see her head bobbing behind the counter as she sorted her pills. For months, there was no sign of progress, no relief in sight. People were getting worried.

It was a very real crisis for Bridget, since people couldn’t buy all of the things she sells in her store along with drugs to keep the pharmacy going. And all of this just before Christmas. People had to while Margaret took orders and rushed back and forth down a hallway back to the pharmacy next door, where only Bridget was allowed, working by her phone with her pills in her hardhat. Margaret was running back and forth all day between the customers and the pharmacy, she looked raggedy some days but never lost her poise.

People in the town were worried that the crisis might cause Bridget to go under – there were rumors that she would have to close for safety reasons because of the condemned building, but the community rallied to her. Bridget is much loved and appreciated, a very powerful reminder of what it means to be known by an ethical human being who cares about her customers. People waited patiently in lines, they lobbied the town government to get the demolition underway, they bought the gifts and over-the-counter medicines Bridget rolled out front on portable stands.

In the meantime, Bridget manned the phones as always, taking everybody’s call, answering everyone’s questions, badgering doctors, soothing the fearful and the disturbed. In the months since the pharmacy was closed to customers, only one person is known to have taken his business elsewhere, a grumpy older man who refused to wait in any line.

It is a powerful testament to the state of American health care to see the townspeople come into Bridget’s story and seek help about medications, insurance and side affects. Often, they are seeking comfort and understanding. They all get help, I have gotten quite a bit since my open heart surgery. Bridget even came to our Open House in October, I was happy to introduce my pharmacist to the crowd.

On January 27, – Bridget calls it “Demolition Day,” the building next door is slated to finally come down. She is considering a block party, or a celebration, or a “Grand Re-Opening” as she puts it. Today, people began dropping off champagne to celebrate her triumph and survival. Everyone who comes in asks about it, is excited about it. This morning, Maria and I went to get some medicine for our burgeoning fevers and we spent a half-hour with Bridget, talking about Disney World, vacation and Demolition Day. We both know how lucky we are to have her.

It will be a big day here, the old-timers love to see demolitions, and we are eager to celebrate the Grand-Re-opening, see that wobbly building come down and honor the survival of a sliver of community in the Corporate Nation. Bridget reminds us of what so many have lost, and we still have and we will all fight to the end to keep her here.

22 January

Coming Soon: Last Day At Maple View Farm, Staged Reading

by Jon Katz
Last Day At Maple View Farm
Last Day At Maple View Farm

On Thursday, January 29, my play, “Last Day At Maple View Farm” will be performed at the new “Hubbard Hall Winter Carnival” in Cambridge, N.Y. It is a short play, about 15-20 minutes, there are seven scenes about a farmer whose dairy farm is about to go under. It is a reflection of my photographs and visits to a number of dairy farms as they succumbed to globalism, corporatism, new economic theories and suffocating government regulation.

Hubbard Hall is doing five staged readings of the play, along with many other plays and performances. The first will be be at 8 p.m., January 29. The second will be at 8 p.m. Friday, January 30. The third is scheduled for 2 p.m. Saturday, January 31. The fourth will be at 8 p.m., Saturday, January 31, and the final reading will be at 2 p.m. Sunday, February l. Tickets to my play and the others are available through Hubbard Hall.

The world premiere of a new play, “Nexus” by Danielle Mohlman and other plays and productions will also be offered on each of those nights, something new and exciting and part of the “Winter Carnival Of New York.” I have wanted to write about the collapse of the dairy and family farms for some time, I am grateful to David Snider, the executive director of Hubbard Hall for giving me the chance. If the play works, I might expand it into a full and longer work.

This is my second effort at playwrighting, my first play, “AT&T And Me,” was produced by the Soho Theater Festival in New York a few years ago. I am excited about sticking my toe in these waters again. I am lucky to have met my friend Carol Gulley, who runs a dairy farm in White Creek, N.Y. with her husband Ed. Carol graciously agreed to be first reader on my play, she offered some invaluable advice and counsel.

The collapse of family farms is a powerful story for me. Farmers are complex people, they are awash with emotion but rarely show it, they are among the world’s greatest animal lovers, but are beset for animal rights groups who have no understanding either of farming or farm animals. They are unwavering conservatives, yet they are continuously ravaged and betrayed by the people they elect.

I admire them greatly and am proud to count several as friends. The play is a creative step forward for me, it feels like the beginning of something new, and the story of the country’s struggling farms is one that needs to be told. The play enters on Ralph Tunney’s last morning in his dairy barn with his family, friends and beloved cow Gertrude. A labor of love for sure.

___

Note: A staged reading is the performance of a play during which actors hold their scripts, wear black or their own clothes and perform with no props, scenery or sound effects. A staged reading, says David Snider, “helps to bring a play to life and focuses on the text.”

22 January

Calling Bridget. Running To The Pharmacy

by Jon Katz
Running To The Pharmacy
Running To The Pharmacy

Maria and I both got  hit with wicked colds last night and were up coughing and sneezing through the dawn. In our town, when we get sick, we call Bridget O’Hearn, our independent pharmacist, she answers the phone herself. “We are sick and coughing,” I said. “Come on over,” she said, after asking a few questions about congestion, etc.

We drove right over – it is five minutes away – and Bridget was waiting with a bunch of  stuff, from Fisherman’s Friend drops to anti-cough tablets. She reminded me that I can’t take decongestants because of my heart medications (I didn’t know that) and she sensed right away that Maria doesn’t like to take any kind of pills at all.

She gave us good advice, prepared a relief kit for us, chatted about her work and ours, and sent us home. It is a remarkable gift to have an independent pharmacist, there are few left. She knows her patients very well, she always has time to talk and explain medications and insurance issues. I remember when I left the hospital after my heart surgery, we called her from the hospital room with a fistful of prescriptions and she told us to stop by her house on the way home, she would get them all filled and ready by morning.

I can’t count how many times I have called her for help and she has always been there, and instantly. Maria is conked out on the sofa, I’m going to give some writing a shot. I thought of asking Red to feed the animals, but I thought it would be a stretch, even for him.

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