Thirty! - or - Not Dead Yet

In the immortal words of James Earl Jones and Jack Hornor -- "Thirty!"

Hard to believe it's been three decades since the Lemmings first performance on the stage of Jesup Hall in the Fall of 1982. But all I have to do is count the rings in my gut to know it's true.

Anniversary Low Buns

On October - nay - OcTOTEber 26th and 27th, nine of the innumerable and far flung Lemmings gathered in New York City, site of our ancient proto-wanderings, for a weekend of phlegm-clearing, memory-testing, old song-singing, low buns-flinging, and man-hugging. 

Left wing

Dinner and first rehearsal was in New Jersey on Friday. Just getting the totes in one place at one time, let alone NJ, was a major accomplishment and we all basked in each other's warm embrace. 

Right wing

Lyman & Daria flew in from Chicago. Chico and Samantha drove from the Cape, Wayne and Kate from almost as far. Bruce came the furthest from LA. Charlie brought Tula and Kika. And the rest of us just materialized as though from the mists of Brigadoon. 

We sang through several songs and either the bar has dropped precipitously low or we actually sounded pretty good. I choose to believe the latter. Then Kate loaded us up with delicious chili, not worrying about any nocturnal repercussions.

Old chili farts

Saturday’s main event was in the epicenter of cool, Mark and Carole’s brownstone in Brooklyn, New York. Having the Lemmings there is a little like mixing matter and anti-matter, or like the Ghostbusters crossing streams, but nothing exploded, thank God. Thirty-or-so of our favorite friends and family joined us for a night to remember filled with music, laughter, and some kick-ass barbeque from Pies and Thighs in Williamsburg.

Too cool for words

All in all, it was the same as it ever was. Like no time has passed. We exhibited classic Lemmings behavior, like:
- Against our better judgment, we sang.

- Charlie self-choreographed every number.

- Kev rambled self-deprecatingly.

- Wayne, Mark, Lyman, Winthy, Charlie, and Paul all delivered memorable solos.

- Nobody bowed.

- Big laughs occurred where least expected.

- Goodwill and support emanated from the audience despite all shortcomings.

Lyman won't stand in your way anymore

What made it different than past gatherings:

- Chico, Winthy, and Emily Palermo all sang solo numbers with Fraser Weist at the piano.
- We weren't nervous. ("Stress-balling" no longer equals satisfaction.)

- Best venue ever! - Thank you again, Mark & Carole.

- No high buns. Didn't dare risk broken hips or furniture.

Circle of Old Totes

I asked the guys to send me their thoughts on the weekend and here's what I got.

From MARK:

That really was so much less unpleasant than it could have been. 

Any gig with more people in the audience than there are performing at one time is a good gig. This was close. 

But honestly, for pulling tunes out of storage like that, we did what I knew we could with one (sorta) rehearsal. In school, it was called "Take the B and run." ('Y'know you  *doo*  you   *doo*  you  *dooo-doo*) Factor in degree of difficulty due to missing members and it's a very respectable B+. (Remember, 'A' students are professors 'n shit; it's the Bs and Cs that run the world.)

From CHICO:

As we rode the subway back after pies and thighs (and were entertained by all the adult trick-or-treat outfits we were seeing), I thought it interesting that no one wore a costume to our fete. And then I thought wait a minute I think we did. We were a bunch of college guys dressed as we thought we'd look in 30 years. 

I thought it was most poignant when we pulled up to Kev & Katharine's house on Friday night and their lawn was covered with gravemarkers. I think my favorite moment of the weekend was Saturday morning (after we managed to sound decent at Friday's sing-through). I was going through Night and Day with Fraser while watching Kev collect the gravemarkers from the front yard before the storm. I remember thinking "hmmm we're not quite dead yet."

From PAUL:

Here's my poem:

"Licence my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O my America! My new-found-land,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man manned..."

(Ok, maybe not appropriate for this situation.)

From BRUCE:

If you closed your eyes during Lem30, you experienced time travel: the same sound and feeling that we had of blending our voices together all those many years ago filled your mind. But then the incongruous comedy of opening one's eyes and seeing the same faces only as if a rogue make-up department had gotten hold of us, slapped prosthetic chins and jowls on and sprayed our hair gray (or in some cases shaved heads altogether clean). 

I think collectively we gained 87 pounds (it would be way more save for Shwaneye's svelteness) and lost 1.4 billion hairs. But amazingly the voices were still solid. No surprise in Winthy, Wayne, and Kev who sing all the time, but Paul whipped out the ol' Victrola voice with the clarity of yesteryear and Charltees landed that soft solo break near the end of "Married" with a sweetness that hushed the room.  

And some of the best moments of the night belonged not to the group but to the splinter cells and Next Gen-er's (or maybe that's because I could finally relax about not hitting an embarrassing non-note and just listen). The talent gushed from Fraser and Emily who KILLED it on Bonnie Raitt's heart-breaker "I Can't Make You Love Me."  Father Mark and daughter Em achieved radiant charm with a ukulele two-part harmony ditty. Chico and Michael each crushed solos with Fraser's strong accompaniment, and the quartet of Kev, Lyman, Paul, and Mark charmed the room with the Beatles' "I Will" (save for a comic implosion on the last little run - take 2 hit it perfectly).

But it must be said that the singing was just the excuse. The real event was the chance to see such great life-long friends and spend real time together. At about 1a on Friday night I was exhausted and headed to bed but Charlie, the Weists and Caseys were still in the living room chatting, and I thought "What am I DOING?! I don't get to stay up late with these fabulous people EVER!" and I promptly sat back down for more rambling conversation until 2. 

The only two things I can think of that WEREN'T great about the weekend are 1) it was too short, and 2) there were key Totes sorely missed. Which means we need to do it again and get that right. Sure it was a long flight both ways but I will answer a question with a question: Q -  "How far would I travel to be where you are?" A - "How long is the journey from here to a star?"

Perfectly said, as always, Bruce. Here's a little video sample of what went down. More to come in the next few weeks.

Already looking forward to #31. Until then, shut thyself.