"Bohemian Cowboy" plays well for me in LA

After a wonderful time with my 2 older sons in L.A. I can't believe that I have gone there, leaving at 6:15 AM yesterday morning, saw the play last night, and was back home again today by 4:30 pm. But my son Gary was returning home today after spending two days there, so I decided to jump in and come home with him, as I was going to be nearly 9 hours returning home by the bus, when I was only 6 and a half going (my bus driver waas fast!). I am standing in the next photo by my chariot, my son Gary's silver Mazda sports car. I had a lot more leg room in it than on the bus, and good company.

As for the play, it was an event well worth going for. I felt I was seeing my son Raymond regain his health following a rough two years after his father's disappearance. He did not talk about the hip problems that plagued him, but I thought the photos, sounds effects, and music he used to dramatize the story of his dad's well publicized disappearance were very effective. The success of a play was in the details. I also liked the mostly original songs he sang so well I wanted more.
I feel this is a wonderful work in progress and I am curious to see how he will change it as time goes by. I think he is still finding the play, but what he found was pretty darn impressive. He was nervous because tonight the LA Times is coming to review, but reservations are starting to come in, and the run has been extended until Friday the 27th. Saturday the 28th there is going to be an evening of poets reading Bukowski, a show being produced by Linda's son Scott. Linda is scheduled to read. I hope she wiill be well enough to come back.
The sound cues are very important to the play, and must be gotten right. Scot was in charge of them and of running the photo slideshow. I loved all these details that underscored the haunting disappearance. At the time that is all anyone who knew about it could talk about. Where was that man? Had he ran away to a new life? Or worse thought, had he been murdered? He always carried a sizable roll of cash. Or did he just walk across the Valley of Fire to distant low hills until he could walk no more? There has been no clue turn up of what happened. So the mystery remains and that is what the father character in the play tells his son, 'the mystery is his inheritance, that is all he had to give'. In fact, his monthly check continue to come to the bank because he cannot be declared dead for 7 years without a body.
Pam, our nurse blogger, I was going to meet felt ill the next day after a very difficult day on her job as a hospice nurse. She was dealing with another death drama.
I had to come back home so fast I did not get a chance to get her message and call her. I was just glad she was all right, as I began to worry about her out so late at night trying to find the theater which did not look like a theater with its side entrance.
I feel so fulfilled as these two sons from my first marriage with Dean and I were able to talk about the past as we never have before. This play felt like a memorial to Dean, and with us both making a big effort to attend, it felt like we were having the best one we could have. We were rewarded by the healing reunion of our spirits. Raymond also evoked the spirit of my father and his grandfather who was there for him when is dad was not after our divorce.
He called his dad the 'disappearance specialist' and me the 'salvationist' who helped suicidal men in trouble, as I did indeed feel that Dean's death at 74 was far from the tragedy it would have been had he been a lot younger. He started talking about suicide very early in our marriage. He was in trouble. I thought that Raymond took on the job of 'salvationist' after Dean's divorce from his second wife, once again helping him to dispell suicidal thoughts so he could have his dad's company for ten more years, making up for a lot of time lost when Raymond was a child. Tears came to my eyes once or twice, and I saw some on Raymond's cheeks, too. But the service was beautiful. I am sure his dad felt remembered. In the play at the end he tells Raymond through channeling, "You have got to stop looking for me, Raymond." Only now do I think that Raymond really can stop looking in the dreamland of the Valley of Fire for his father, and can now better move on with his life.

Son Raymond opening his play, "Bohemian Cowboy" in Los Angeles

Raymond sings songs he wrote for his singing sessions with his dad who lived with him a few months nearly every winter in the last ten years of his life. He writes his thoughts about his dad disappearing into the desert above Los Vegas on the turn off to the Valley of Fire. It has been over 3 years now and his dad has never been seen again, even though at the time, a big search even using dogs was made. Raymond will be talking about his mother, too, and his grandfather who was the great cowboy in his ancestory as was his great grandfather, too, who homesteaded his first ranch in Salt Gulch, a valley below Hell's Backbone. Raymond had dreams of being a working cowboy that did not pan out because performing was in his blood. So he became a bohemian cowboy instead!
The photo above is Hell's Backbone Bridge in the beautiful Utah country where Raymond goes every summer. He and his dad used to meet in Boulder for some real country singing sessions under the stars.
See my blog list for more information on the theater and the tickets.