I am not exactly sure when I knew I would in fact live forever. Oh, not in the same body of course. “Reincarnation” I thought to myself, “yeah that’s the ticket.”

As for this body I feel like I have a responsibility to keep it in reasonably good shape and healthy and so I behave myself and treat others kindly so then I can sideslip Karma and have an even better life in my next life. What defines better? Trying different things; this life I seem to be focused on The Arts; music, writing, Playwright, stand up comedy, painting, sculpture and a stint as an Impresario.

Do I sometimes feel like I’ve met others in a previous time, a previous life? Yes. I was lucky enough to ride up the old World Trade center elevator once with Cameron Diaz where I tried to convince her that we were married to each other in a previous life (no really) but she could not remember. Her loss.

Knowing I have been here before, that I am here now and I will be here again has made me a very patient man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

David was a very shy youngster, so shy that his nursery school teachers wanted him to do a transition year. We thought that was not in the best interests of a child who was already interested in reading and math, so instead, we found a small private school for his kindergarten year. There, his best friend was Ollie Murphy.

Ollie lived with his mom, Juliet (she explained that her mother was reading the Shakespeare play when she was born; an immediate connection for me) in a South End condo. They commuted out to Chestnut Hill by the MBTA each day. The stop was a block from the school. Juliet was herself in school to finish her degree. Ollie’s father worked in broadcasting for the Christian Science Monitor, which was also close by and lived a few blocks away. They had parted amicably just after Ollie was born.

Ollie, too, was shy and he and David became fast friends. He frequently came back to our house after school, or I’d drive over to the South End and visit with Juliet while the boys played. I noticed posters for various high-profile play productions in the hallway along the entrance of the condo. It was a one bedroom condo and Juliet showed David the futon she pulled out to sleep on so that Ollie could have the huge bed. David loved playing with Ollie.

Jeffrey was a little boy at the time; sometimes Dan took care of him, but often Jeffrey would come too. Since Juliet didn’t have a car, I’d take them all when we went to various places around greater Boston to play…out to the Old Grist Mill in Sudbury (near Longfellow’s Wayside Inn) to run around, or take in the Children’s Museum. Or play make believe at our house. Clearly at one of these venues (probably the Children’s Museum), there was a photo booth and David and Ollie crammed in together to have a souvenir of their deep friendship and time together. David barely made it into the photo. Ollie must have the other snap shot.

David spent one year at the school, then came out to our public school. Ollie remained in the area for one more year, but it was less easy for them to get together. When Juliet finished her degree, she took an offer from her mother to teach at the American School in Vienna, where her mother was Head of School. David was bereft to lose such a close friend. We tried writing, but Juliet wasn’t a good correspondent. They came to visit once or twice. Below is a snap shot of one of those visits, in August, 1993. You can see how happy David was to be with his friend again.

As a gift for David, Juliet brought a little flag stand with a French, American and Austrian flag standing in salute. I no longer remember the relevance of the French flag, but David was delighted and kept it on top of his bureau, where it remains to this day.

During the year that David was in kindergarten with Ollie, they slept over at each other’s homes a few times. Juliet and I became close as well. She finally confided in me how she was able to afford such a fine condo in the South End (even before it became the hottest location in Boston) and why there were those theatrical posters, hanging in the hallway. The condo belonged to her brother – Harvard grad and former theatrical “wunderkind” Peter Sellars, who had moved to California, but kept the condo, as he still worked often enough in Boston to make it worth his while to have the place when he came back. He now worked mostly directing operas. This was an interesting revelation, which I kept to myself. I tried to not be over-awed. As a theater person, of course I knew of him, but it had nothing to do with how I related to Juliet or Ollie.

We missed them very much when then left. We haven’t heard from them in years.

 

 

 

 

Russian athletes have systematically cheated for years. The Wikipedia page is too long and complicated to try to condense and enumerate the many faults, going back decades for this story, but let me give you some “highlights”.

For years there was state sponsored systematic doping. They have been stripped of 46 Olympic medals. The most flagrant abuse was discovered after a whistle blower complaint to the World Anti-Doping Agency. It was discovered that tainted urine and blood samples were being swapped out for clean ones through a hole in a lab wall, before the samples were tested for illegal drugs. This went on between 2010 and 2014. Many of the major athletes were banned from the Olympics in 2016 and those that were allowed to compete had to do so under a neutral flag.

Russia was banned from all major sporting events in 2019 for four years, but the Court of Arbitration for Sports reduced the ban to two years in 2020. But rather than suspending the athletes themselves, the coaches and the whole Russian Olympic Federation, the punishment was only that future athletes couldn’t compete under the Russian flag. Rather, they had to compete under the neutral Olympic flag. If they won, their national anthem wouldn’t be played. Big deal. They could continue to compete with barely a slap on the wrist.

Compete and cheat they did. This time, they were allowed to carry a flag that showed the Russian colors and the team was called the “Russian Olympic Committee”, whatever that meant. If they won, strains of Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker” would be played during the gold medal ceremony. That showed ’em.

During this winter season, a 15 year old skating phemon was on the rise; Kamila Valieva. All the professional commenters swooned over her. They’d never seen anyone so talented, so lovely and she could do multiple quad jumps (never before landed in competition) like it was child’s play. Yet, at the Russian National Competiton on December 25, 2021, she tested positive for a banned substance: trimetazidine, a heart medication that no 15 year old would ever be prescribed. It could be used to boost endurance during training. She was banned from the team for a day, then reinstated. The bad sample was sent to the official testing lab in Switzerland…not to be heard from for weeks and weeks.

She went off to China and competed in the first round of the Olympic Winter Games. She was flawless and exquisite, helping her team win gold in the team skating event.

Suddenly, the Swiss lab came back with the definitive test results. Yes indeed, her sample was tainted, she had the banned substance in it. Why had it taken so long for them to test it? They were short-handed due to Covid, they claimed. Who knows what the truth is. A hasty plea for arbitration was made. She is only 15, a “protected minor”. This gives her special status. The adults around her spoke for her. She appeared over Zoom and said she drank some water from a glass that her grandfather, who took the medication, had also sipped from (WHAT?).

She performed well enough the night of the individual short program. She sat in first place as she waited for the committee to decide her fate. They decided that, since she was ONLY 15, she shouldn’t be punished. (This was provisional, waiting for a final ruling that could takes months to decide.) She was not responsible for what went into her body.

The Americans who provided “color” commentary cried foul. Tara Lipinski, herself a gold medal winner at the age of 15, said she was drilled at an early age to know EXACTLY what she ingested and to be careful about everything. Johnny Weir, another former Olympic skater, said this would ruin their sport, it could no longer be trusted that everyone was playing on a level field. He was furious. Both agreed that she should not be allowed to skate, as much as they thought she was a prodigy. Her cheating should not be rewarded, even if she was only doing what her coach (who was notorious for getting results while emotionally abusing her charges) told her what to do. Another example of Russian bullying tactics.

One could sense her nerves when she went onto the ice the evening of the long program. And she fell apart. She landed on her butt twice. She couldn’t land her quad jumps, which had been gorgeous in the team event just days earlier. She is only 15 and the world had turned against her. She had no one to protect and comfort her. She had to be perfect for the Motherland and she didn’t have the emotional maturity to do that. She left the ice in tears. Rather than consoling her, her coach chided her. Kamila finished in fourth place.

Thomas Bach, the President of the International Olympic Committee went on TV the next day to chastise the coach and the system that did not support this poor young girl and finally understood why it would have been better to keep her out of the glare of the spotlight. One just doesn’t do that to a 15 year old. The question of her eligibility was only provisional. It is still being adjudicated. The Russians could still lose their gold medal in the team event, and deserve to do so.

With the Russian invasion of Ukraine, all Russian athletes are now banned from international competition, as part of sanctions being imposed to isolate Russia from the civilized world. A different young Russian figure skater won the gold medal at the Olympics, but will not be able to defend that title at the World Championship. For the moment, the ban settles the issue of cheating, but only for the moment.

 

 

Does time just really stop, or is our definition of time just really wrong?
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