Great Lakes Theater


Hi Everyone!

I just got word from Daniel Hahn at Great Lakes Theater that there are still several free tickets available for the upcoming season.  See below.  First come, first served.  Just contact Daniel at his email address     and tell him what you need.  These tickets are for deaf people and their guests (hearing or deaf).

All these shows will be interpreted by members of The HeArd.  Check out www.heardwhatsup.com to see the rest of our season.  We have shows at The Fine Arts Association (funded generously by The Triple T Foundation), Near West Theatre and Playhouse  Square.

Hope to see you at a show!  Merry Beth Pietila


I have had a very slow response to the sign-interpreted email I sent out. I have the following inventory remaining:

28-Oct-12 INVALID: 8 tickets left
4-Nov-12 WINTER’S TALE: 8 tickets left
9-Dec-12 A CHRISTMAS CAROL: 26 tickets left
3-Mar-13 BLITHE SPIRIT: 8 tickets left
7-Apr-13 MUCH ADO: 8 tickets left
12-May-13 GUYS AND DOLLS: 10 tickets left
Thank you,
Daniel Hahn
Director of Education
Great Lakes Theater
1501 Euclid Avenue
Suite 300
Cleveland, OH 44115

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The Tea Girl

I feel like a dog person who became a cat person . . . a skier who became a snowboarder . . . an evening person who became a morning person . . . because I drink tea now. Me. The coffee girl. Drinks tea. And I like it.

So many colors. Tons of flavors. I can drink it at night and it won’t keep me up until 3am.

I have an “emergency kit” in my purse. It contains essentials like a hair band, dental floss, an extra pair of contact lenses, and quarters. Now it also holds a tea bag. I added it after going to a restaurant the other day where they had three tea choices: icky, yucky, or gross. It reminded me of the days when I used to be a caffeine addict yet was stuck in a meeting where the only coffee option was a stale, burnt cup of sludge.

Anyway, so I now keep a tea bag tucked away for such predicaments. That’s me. The tea girl. Š

Holidays are Changing

I’m trying to talk my parents and in-laws into coming to our place for Thanksgiving.

Ever since leaving for college at age 18, I’ve traveled over the holidays.

My hubby and I are moving in early November, and we’ll hopefully be settled into our new place by Turkey Day. I’d hate to move in and then turn around and leave right away. Plus, it sounds fun to host the holidays. Of course, I’ve never cooked a Thanksgiving dinner before, but a minor detail, right? I can figure it out.

One year I asked my mom if she’d teach me to cook the turkey. I arrived at her house ready to tackle the bird and learn how to make stuffing. My grandmother was visiting too. The two of them have been taking on Thanksgiving together forever, and despite my good intentions, everyone fell into their normal roles that year. My brother helped mash the potatoes, my dad prepared to carve, I found myself setting the table, pouring the wine, and arranging the relish tray. My mom and grandmother had their own rhythm and didn’t need anyone – including me – butting in. Or maybe I simply got distracted watching whatever movies my brother had rented from the video store. Either way, I never learned how to bake a turkey. (Actually, bake or roast?)

This year will be different. My grandmother no longer travels. One of my brothers is married and will be away. I’ve pegged the local, sustainable farm where I plan to purchase Mr. Tom. (For any vegetarians, here are some recipes I stumbled across on GentleThanksgiving.org).

My parents jumped on the chance to come to my place for a change. I hope my in-laws do too.

Times are changing. Times are changing.

Part of me is nervous about altering the rhythm of our holiday, but I’m excited too.

Mr. Forgetful

Remember Mr. Men and Little Miss?

I was a child of the 70s and loved those characters. I think Mr. Funny was my favorite, but last Sunday I was reminded of Mr. Forgetful.

It was mid-morning, and my husband and I were exiting a crowded parking lot. The pavement was packed, and cars were bumper to bumper as everyone tried to work their way out onto the main road. A couple policemen were directing traffic and one waved us on. Two seconds later a second policeman held up his hand indicating we should stop. Confusion ensued as my husband rolled forward then hit his breaks as he tried to follow the directions. Cars honked. A red truck squealed his tires and raced around us, cutting us off and running over a couple of orange cones.

Guess where we were leaving?

Church.

We had just finished listening to a sermon about treating others kindly.

How quickly we forget (and I’m not just talking about the guy in the red truck…I found myself feeling annoyed with the traffic too!).

At times I’ve noticed Mr. Forgetful making an appearance in yoga class. Here’s what happens: we spend 90 minutes stretching and meditating and bowing and OMing, but as soon as class ends we’re all shoving our blankets into the shelf (each one folded in different ways), tossing our blocks in a disorganized fashioned into a bin, and then racing out the door as we reach in front of others to grab our flip-flops.

I hate to admit that I’ve been guilty of this before. But I guess I’ll be Little Miss Confession today. After one of my yoga teachers suggested people should put their props away more mindfully, I really began to pay attention. Blankets should be folded and stacked the same way to prevent the pile from tumbling. Blocks should be stacked to maximize space. Straps should be hung without tangles.

And it’s really that simple.Š

The Tea Girl

I feel like a dog person who became a cat person . . . a skier who became a snowboarder . . . an evening person who became a morning person . . . because I drink tea now. Me. The coffee girl. Drinks tea. And I like it.

So many colors. Tons of flavors. I can drink it at night and it won’t keep me up until 3am.

I have an “emergency kit” in my purse. It contains essentials like a hair band, dental floss, an extra pair of contact lenses, and quarters. Now it also holds a tea bag. I added it after going to a restaurant the other day where they had three tea choices: icky, yucky, or gross. It reminded me of the days when I used to be a caffeine addict yet was stuck in a meeting where the only coffee option was a stale, burnt cup of sludge.

Anyway, so I now keep a tea bag tucked away for such predicaments. That’s me. The tea girl. Š

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