Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Cosi fan tutte - Two deaths: Jim Berry and Angie Ruth Walker - Poem: In Memorium Jim Berry

Very hot today. 96 I think. I'm inside all day. At the bottom of this post is a poem about the claustrophy I felt about the day. Pronounced CLAUSE-trof-ee.

On TV is the Mozart opera buffa in two acts.

In fact, it's still buffing right now.

Finally my favorite part comes on. A trio with two women and a man.

Round about then I started thinking about my former accountant/friend Jim Berry. Wonder how he's doing, thinks I. What that really means is, Has he died? He went from one cancer to another. I think his larynx was removed.

Sure enough, my old friend passed away. Read his obit here. I left a comment.

Died on Saturday, Jan 16 2016 at Doylestown Hospital. 

James J. Berry of Warrington, Pa., passed away Saturday, January 16, 2016 at Doylestown Hospital. He was 68 years old. Born in Phila., he was the son of the late John and Catherine (Kehan) Berry. He was the beloved husband of Donna P. (nee Pulli) Berry and the loving father of Brad and Brandon Berry. He was the brother of Joanne O’Brien, Joseph Berry, Joyce Lavin, Judith Cousart, Jill Coogan and the late Janice Romberger and John Be

His office was in his brightly painted basement. While he was ill, his wife got sick. Here's what I wrote about her on my blog.  Skip the part about Obama and scroll down.


A week earlier I was wondering about "Angie." Her real name was Dr Ruth Walker. She hired me to be the therapist of her great-niece, the most difficult client I've ever had.

Angie is one of the most brilliant people I've ever met. She was deeply religious. A Catholic. Read her obit here.  An older brother was a retired priest who lived in Manhattan. His caregiver was ripping him off.

Somehow Angie would get someone at the Quadrangle to drive her to Manhattan to visit her brother. These were all long-lived people.

Associate Dean at Lehman College, CUNY, died on February 26th, 2017, at age 96. Ruth was born in N.Y. City in 1920 and grew up in Manhasset NY. She earned a B.S. in 1942 from Vassar College and a PhD in organic chemistry from Yale in 1945, one of the first women ever to do so. She contributed to advancements in both the pharmaceutical and textile industries, including the isolation of penicillin, the development of non-fading blue dye for clothing, and even "No More Tears" shampoo. In 1957, she moved to the world of academia, joining the faculty at CUNY's Hunter College where she taught organic chemistry, and later and b

"Mother Would Have Liked You" is only one of a number of poems I wrote about her niece Julie or Brooke - she was always changing her name - and I called her Evelyn in my poems.

Truthfully, this is not the kind of blog post I like to write.

This is for "memories only." People who once played an important role in my life.

The exhaust is cracked in my car, so I drove down to REMS Auto on Davisville Road so I could walk home.  Rems is their last name.  It was about 90 when I got out of the car, dropped my car keys in the slot, and began walking home.

Loads of traffic. How will I ever cross the street, I wondered. Suddenly, there were no sounds. I quickly stepped into the street and ran all the way across.

All that was left was the high hill behind Keystone Screw. I walked as fast as I could. Why tarry out in the heat and suffer heat stroke?

Now all's I needed was to find the path home.

Scott had trimmed it with his new chain saw. But....Look at all the poison ivy! And me in my shorts. I balanced carefully as I ascended the path, squeezing beside the three-leaved ivy.

Image result for poison ivy

Poison ivy, Lord, will make you itch!
Gonna need a potion
of Calamine Lotion.


Car's in the shop
me, home alone,
just watched a film
Breaking the Waves

A love story
she, a praying woman
with faraway eyes,
he, a broken man,
CRIPPLE, she calls him
and disappears at sea
An ancient seafaring town
in church, only men
can speak, chastise her
and call her damned
when she returns home
with knife wounds
piercing her flesh
He will always love his
Bess when they toss her
Mary Magdalena body
in the sea
And, head swaddled in
turban, her husband
walks free.

My friend Rem suggested I watch the movie. Exceedingly painful to watch.


In the middle of Cosi Fan Tutte
last night with Maestro Levine
at the baton, I arose from my
bed, half asleep.

There you were, beaming all
over the obituary page. Dead
and buried and prayed for
a man of 68.

When I knew you, my friend and
accountant, cancer had hopscotched
across your innards. What a handsome
man you were!
With a smile wide as the grave.

I'm toying with the idea of inviting you over
for lunch. I'll run to the market and buy some good ham. Once you made me a ham sandwich as we took a
break between documents.

The sun paused a moment at
the patio door.

Cool is the grave
on a hot day like today.
Sleep well, Jim Berry,
a master of philosophy,
afraid of nothing, nada,
not even death.

NOTE ON MAESTRO LEVINE. Peter Gelb, the general manager of the Metropolitan Opera, interviewed him, saying everyone was glad he'd returned.

Returned from where?

This morning I goggled him.

He's had Parkinson's for many years. Read about him here.

Born in 1943.

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