Who's Afraid Of Uta Hagen?

I almost put the magazine down and shouted out: "Yes, Marlo, I was there!  I saw the same show you did!!"

Marlo was Marlo Thomas, the actress. The magazine had a "Best And Worst" feature (Worst Date, Best Friend For Life, etc.) and they had asked Marlo Thomas about the Best Stage Performance Ever.

Marlo's response: "I got to witness Uta Hagen play Martha in Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?  What she brought to the character was amazing - anger, competitiveness, sensuality, vulnerability.  That show taught me more about acting than any class ever could." 

I, too, saw Uta Hagen play Martha.

Martha and her husband George invite two guests to their home for cocktails, and proceed to put each other down in front of their guests.  Actually, they try to destroy each other.  A virtual marital demolition derby.

This was not at all like the plays I was used to seeing.  

I grew up in the innocent, in the Fifties.  I was used to heart-warming plays like The Fantasticks.  I was used to light-hearted plays like Fiorello!  Instead, Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf? was brutal and raw.  I heard George and Martha say things like "screw you" and "hump the hostess" - words no actor had ever spoken on an American stage in the Fifties.

I was 19 years old when I saw Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf for the first time.  The script was published as a book, and I asked for a copy at Christmas.  I went back to see the play when I was 20.  Maybe, down in my subconscious, I was a fan of this play because it was a signal --- a signal that the world was about to change, a signal that The Sixties had begun in America.

Hollywood made a movie of Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf?, with Mike Nichols directing Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor as George and Martha.  I thought it couldn't be too hard for these two people to portray a couple that was out to destroy each other.  

However, I did not see the Burton-Taylor movie until the end of The Sixties.  

I was in El Paso, Texas, and talked a friend into going to see the movie at a drive-in theater in the foothills of the city.  The movie was fine, but I became aware, with a jolt, that most of the people in the drive-in were not there to watch Burton and Taylor.  They had brought blankets and were hunkering down to spend the night in their cars at the drive-in.

Driving back toward El Paso that night, I thought about how we had just watched a movie amidst homeless people.  I thought about how the innocence of the Fifties was gone.  

In the Fifties, I knew only the part of the world that was within a 25 mile radius of my parents’ home.  In the Fifties, I was deeply concerned about what other people thought of me.  In the Fifties, I saw a narrow path ahead of me: if I do the right things, I will succeed.  

In the Sixties, I had served my country both in the Peace Corps and in the United States Army, and had seen a lot of new places.  I had become at peace with myself, no longer worrying about others’ opinions.  I saw a flexible path ahead of me: waiting for me to figure out how to navigate life.

For me, the Sixties started with Uta Hagen on stage, and ended with Elizabeth Taylor on screen.

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Here is a 5-and-a-half minute excerpt from opening scene in the original Broadway play.  Listen to Uta Hagen work her magic.

Give Me A Big Sloppy Kiss

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com

Find A Good Mother And Take Good Care Of It

When I moved to Sokoto, Nigeria in 1975, I had to choose between Mrs. Datta and Mrs. Kohli.  People told me that Mrs. Kohli was sweeter than Mrs. Datta.  However, I chose Mrs. Datta.

These two women were from India and they had yogurt mothers that they were willing to share.  I needed a yogurt mother to make my own yogurt, which turned out to be pretty easy in Sokoto.

Dairy products were hard to come by in the tropics.  There was one herd of dairy cows in all of Nigeria, and they lived on the central plateau under the careful eye of an Agricultural university.   They did not ship their cow's milk because milk spoils quickly in the tropics.

There were herds of camels all around Sokoto.  Camels were milked and the milk was turned into a form of cheese: solid white disks that were for sale in the market, but did not look at all hygienic to me.

So, almost all dairy products had to be imported.  Nigerians were fond of small cans of evaporated milk and condensed milk from Holland, which they used in their tea.  Another popular imported item was powdered milk, which Nigerians turned into baby formula.  

I needed powdered milk to make yogurt, and my favorite brand was KLIM. 

KLIM was produced in America; it was originally used by explorers; it was a staple in the rations of US soldiers fighting in the Pacific during World War II. But it was not my favorite brand because of its pedigree --- it was my favorite because KLIM is MILK spelled backwards, and I like things that spell backwards.  

(No wonder that my favorite Nigerian detergent is OMO, which spells its own name backwards.)

Once I got my yogurt mother from Mrs. Datta, I began to make yogurt on a regular basis.  I would add water to KLIM in an enamel bowl.  Sokoto had wonderful colored enamel bowls imported from Czechoslovakia.

I stirred the mother into the milk, put the lid on the bowl, and set the bowl out in my yard.  Sokoto is the hottest large city in Africa, so, the sun did the rest.  After one hour, I would bring the bowl into the house: there was a batch of yogurt inside, all properly cultured.

However, if I lost track of time, and fetched the bowl after two hours, there would be a batch of very thick yogurt inside, almost like cream cheese.

Chill the yogurt, and consume…making sure to set aside some as the mother so I could make another batch. 

But sometimes, I would lose track and eat all the yogurt in the fridge, including the mother.  So, I was back where I started from: I would have to choose between Mrs. Datta and Mrs. Kohli.

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The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is another country without dairy cows.  You can watch a one-minute video where KLIM tells Saudi women that they can realize their dreams – being a TV reporter, piloting a jet, climbing Mt. Everest – if they drink KLIM powdered milk.  (You can't realize your dreams without calcium.)  Saudi Women of Strength

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can find out more and purchase a copy at http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com

Resolutions 1-2-3 When Leaving The Army

Whenever I go to Gold's Gym, I am reminded of the day when I left the Army in 1970, in Tacoma, Washington.  On that day, I made resolutions 1-2-3:

RESOLUTION #1: No one will ever yell at me again.

RESOLUTION #2: I will never do a push-up again.

RESOLUTION #3: I will recognize when I am surrounded by happiness.

In the Army, being yelled at meant that I was being singled out.  Singled out because of some transgression and I needed to be humiliated in front of my fellow soldiers.  Gold's Gym has a cycling class and the instructor is constantly yelling "Pedal Faster".  I have never taken a cycling class because of Resolution #1 - I do not want to re-live being yelled at.

In the Army, push-ups are not exercise, they are punishment.  "Schneider, give me 10" means that because I had annoyed the sergeant, I had to drop to the ground and do 10 push-ups to appease him.  At Gold's Gym I take a barbell class, and the instructor wants us to do push-ups.  Because of Resolution #2, I only do pseudo push-ups, bouncing my head up and down while I am on my hands and knees.

In the Army, I made a discovery: I discovered that before I was in the Army, I was surrounded by happiness and did not realize it.  Resolution #3 is subtle; it means that I should find joy in having choice and control.

Before I was in the Army, I could choose what clothes to wear.  I could choose when to turn off the light at night.  I had a wide variety of friends.  I could walk to a refrigerator and get a cool drink.  I could sleep all night long.  I could close the door when I used a bathroom.

Not so in the Army: the Department of Defense told me what to wear and even told me when to switch from winter uniform to summer uniform - an event that happened simultaneously across the country, putting me in a summer uniform well before warm weather reached Tacoma, Washington.  My commanding officer determined when the barracks lights get turned off at night.  By default, I was surrounded almost entirely by men all about the same age I was.  There was no refrigerator in the barracks, just a water fountain.  Many nights my sleep was interrupted by walking an hour of guard duty.  There was no such thing as privacy in an Army bathroom.

The Army made my choices for me; the Army controlled my life.

At Gold's Gym, in the barbell class, I have choice - I pick what weight to put on my barbell.  I have control - I can modify the exercises if I do not like what the instructor is doing.

Resolution #3 tells me to recognize that I now have choice, I now have control, and I now have the freedom to have my hair cut any way I wish.  And that is happiness.

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2-minute YouTube video on how to avoid being yelled at by a Drill Sergeant: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3QQp8rb_uHY

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com