Except for a very few brief moments when he walked rather than danced, there was no hint that Michael was tired or ill. His voice was as strong as could be, his face more beautiful than I’d seen since he did the Thriller video. And his dance moves were all that we have come to expect from the King of Pop.

What I really enjoyed was seeing him stop in the middle of some of the numbers and ask the musicians to do a particular moment a little differently. Clearly he liked well-placed pauses when all music would stop to allow the moment to “simmer.” Several times he’d say in his sweet, high voice, “You gotta let it simmer” or maybe the word was sizzle. And then, “Don’t play until you see me make this move” which would be, in some instances, lifting one shoulder as punctuation or flinging arm out, finger pointing.
Almost every time he’s stop and ask for something different he’d finish by saying “It’s about love,” or “God bless you.”

There was another wonderful scene when he was talking to a pianist, trying to explain the sound he was looking for…Getting the musician to do it over and over with subtle changes… So able to hone in on the smallest details of sound and movement. Afterward, the pianist spoke movingly about how no one knew the music and what it should sound like better than Michael. Clearly everyone working on the project was in awe of Michael. And in this film you can really see why.

When Michael was on stage dancing alone, the camera would pan out to the “audience” of dancers all of whom would be grooving right along with Michael, looking up at him on the stage, loving him, admiring him, rooting for him. I am moved as I write this because it hadn’t hit me till I saw the film how utterly devastating his death must have been to all these dancers and musicians who so adored him, who had worked so long and hard and who were on the very brink of taking it public.

The night the film had its premiere in downtown Los Angeles there was an unusual, high wind…so strong that trees were blown down. Unusual for this city. A friend of mine who was there said that she wasn’t the only one who was crying as she walked toward the theatre, feeling this wind was Michael’s presence.

See the movie.
See you next time,

In my last blog post I said I was in love. Maybe I shouldn’t have but it’s so much fun I couldn’t resist. A few days later I discovered what PDA means because someone told me that TMZ had said I was engaging in PDA (public display of affection) in a parking lot with my husband. “Oops!l Said someone on the show, “She’s not married.” Hey, I’m from Atlanta and not used to cameras in every hot spot parking lot outting me. I’ll try to be more careful in the future.

My boyfriend is Richard Perry, a record producer whom I met 35 years ago when he gathered heavy hitters from the music industry to support my then-husband, Tom Hayden’s run for the US Senate. I danced with him in Aspen 25 years ago and didn’t see him again till a week after my knee replacement surgery in June when our mutual friend, Carrie Fisher, acted as a go-between at Richard’s request and set up a dinner.

In May I told friends I’d stop thinking about love and all the other good stuff. “That’s all over for me,” I thought. Oh yeah…wham.

Anyway, between physical therapy and romance there just hasn’t been time to blog or even twitter. And as for those 2 new chapters I was going to write during this time in LA—forget about it! I’ll just have to hole up at my ranch starting week after next and knuckle down. I guess the chapter on love etc in the third act will be more interesting now–and fun to write.

Richard is working on a new musical called “Baby It’s You” about Florence Greenberg,  a jewish housewife in New Jersey who started Scepter Records her own record company (the first woman to do so)  in the 1950s and created a long list of hits with, among other groups, the Shirelles. It’s pretty exciting–the music I grew up with.

Last night I had cocktails with Don Amendolia who played the music publisher, Diabelli, in “33 Variations.” We became good friends and it was great catching up with him before he was whisked off to Lucie Arnaz’s birthday party.

Now, I’m on my way to Troy and Simone’s for a barbecue where Richard will join us after his rehearsals.

Life is good.

See you next time

Pink Jersey

My on-line store is finally up. I’m selling these t-shirts, totes and clutches to benefit my non-profit, The Georgia Campaign for Adolescent Pregnancy Prevention. I see it as a way to turn what was an awful incident (I was unjustly accused of drug smuggling and put in jail as a way for the Nixon administration to slander me) into a beneficial one.

I am proud to work with L’Oreal Paris, a company that recently won the award for leadership in ethics. I sat next to Jean-Paul Agon, the President of the parent company of which L’Oreal Paris is a division who confirmed what I had already been told: They do no testing on animals and their laboratories are in the forefront of developing artificial skin on which to test products.

I love the company also because they chose me not in spite of my age but because of my age. They are committed to the idea that beauty is not simply in the young and model-perfect but in all people regardless of ethnicity or age.

Last night I had dinner with Jean Pierre Meyers and Francoise Meyers Bettencourt, the daughter of the owner of L’Oreal’s parent company. Youcef Nabi was also there. She was director of L’Oreal worldwide when I began working with them and is now president of Lancome worldwide which is the luxury brand of L’Oreal. We are good friends.

I am with my friend, Former president of L'Oreal Paris, Youcef Nabi

Tomorrow we begin three days of filming a commercial for skin care products in an apartment in Paris. I always have to do each shot in French, then in English and then a separate one for the United Kingdom which has special rules about what can be said. I enjoy the challenge. I must say, I use the products on a regular basis and have for 4 years. They are called AGE RE-PERFECT PRO CALCIUM and there is one cream for daytime and one for the night. I tend to have dry skin and it’s gotten more so with age, so these creams have really helped. I know some of you don’t give a fuzzy rat’s ass about all this, but I’ve had many questions from, blog friends about my skin care.

The director of the commercial and the stylist are about to arrive to discuss tomorrow’s shoot and have me try on the clothes. I will send photos of he shoot tomorrow. So…

See you next time

The ego part is less clear. Perhaps that will remain so, I don’t know. Is it ego or is it becoming more self conscious? We tend to think of the term ‘self-conscious’ as meaning something bad-as being awkward or uncomfortable with oneself. But the way I am using it, it means something rather different-a consciousness of self, how our presence impacts people, how much of who we are do we actually own. I spent most of my life lacking self consciousness. This is something Katharine Hepburn criticized me for-she, the ultimate example of self-consciousness. As I age, I think a lot about this and am aware that my becoming more self conscious also means I am taking more control over my life-what there is left of it. (And realizing all the while, that the notion of us having control is so relative it’s laughable).

All this to say that the blog makes me more self conscious, more aware of the different aspects of my life, what matters and what doesn’t; what might matter to someone else  and what might not. So—I am going to continue to blog. Maybe not every day. Maybe just when there’s something going on, internally or externally, that might be of use or interest. For instance, I leave this play (and New York) the morning of May 22nd. I leave for the Galapagos Islands with a boat load of friends and family for 8 days. I was just told that I will be able to blog from there!! When Ted and I split up, I made a list of things I wanted to do before I die that I could perhaps turn into fundraisers for the Georgia Campaign for Adolescent Pregnancy Prevention. In 2000, about a dozen rich and fit friends trekked with me to Machu Pichu. This Galapagos trip is also a fundraiser and there will much to report back on and photograph. My blogging support system composed of James Andrews and J.J. make it so easy and fun.

So, between now and the fall, I will be working on my book and then, God willing and the creek don’t rise, I am going to do a movie. Because it is not 100% certain I am not allowed to say what it is or who with, but if it happens, it will be rich soil for interesting blogging. After that, I will again do an eight-day silent Buddhist meditation retreat in Santa Fe and then, hopefully, another movie. Not a bad year for an old gal. I feel lucky. But, as I have said before, luck is preparation meeting opportunity.

My main concern is how blogging will impact my book writing. I have less than a year to finish my book about aging, “The Third Act: Entering Prime Time.” My editor wants to bring it out in September or November 2010 and, as I am a slow book writer (as opposed to blog writer which I do very quickly), I have my work cut out for me. I decided last night, by the way, to make an exercise program(s) for people in their third acts to come out at the same time. I’m excited at the prospect of getting back into the fitness arena.

Got to leave now for the theatre. Eva Mendes is coming this afternoon along with a group of young women from my high school alma mater, Emma Willard, who are being escorted by the wonderful school principal, Trudy Hall. Among the girls will be three “Fonda Scholars.” I am so looking forward to performing for them.

With Eva Mendes (photo: Michael Rudd)

Alan and Marilyn Bergman-the world famous composers and lyricists, few things could make me as happy as seeing how profoundly they were moved by the play. I have gotten to know Eva Mendes because she is my daughter-in-law’s best friend.

With Marilyn and Alan Bergman (photo: Michael Rudd)

Three Fonda scholar students from Emma Willard (photo: Michael Rudd)

I misunderstood and thought there were going to be young women from Emma Willard. Turns out there were the 3 Fonda scholars (2 juniors and a freshman) and the others were in the vicinity of my class–give or take.

Me and the whole Emma Willard gang (photo: Micheal Rudd)

Anna Mantero ’10 Jane Fonda Scholar

Annie Hudson ’10 Jane Fonda Scholar

Denise Meza ’12 Jane Fonda Scholar

See you next time.

Moises has been in Los Angeles rehearsing his next play that deals with the Iraq War. I’ve gotten over feeling abandoned. But I do miss having him give me notes every night. In his absence, our stage manager, Linda Marvel, does a great job reminding us if we slow down the pace of a given scene or aren’t delivering a closing line with sufficient gusto to provide a “button” to the scene’s end. All our stage managers are women and this gives a calm, kind, caring aura to the backstage environment. Some of the prop guys will be joking around and not always focused on the play but not the women.

But back to the party: we’ve been planning this since february but it’s been hard to find a time when everyone was free. Tonight’s the night. We’ll rendevous at Samantha’s and then all go together to the restaurant that Don has scoped out. He’s even organized the menu. I will try to remember to take pictures. It’s apt to be rowdy. Hope so…at least a little.

Linda just called places. It’s a good house out there and we’re psyched.

See you next time.

Perhaps the acuteness of the tragedy of Natasha’s death is magnified for me because of I feel very ‘broken open’ by the nature of this play that I am doing 8 times a week–a play that speaks of life and death, of mothers and daughters.

(These last days it has been hard for me to write my usual ‘sign off’–see you next time. It all seems so arbitrary.)

We all care for each other so much. I stand at the back of the stage behind the sliding backdrop at the top of Act Two. I’m always there early, waiting for it to begin, and as places are called, Don, then Samantha, then Colin and Susan all walk the narrow space behind me to their entry places and as they pass, they touch me or say something sweet. It’s become an unspoken ritual that I treasure.

Yesterday, I blogged about wanting to go to museums in the city over the next few months. Well, that elicited (spelled it right this time!) so many recommendations and I am so pleased to have been reminded of The Cloisters (one of my old favorites), Ellis Island, The American Indian Museum and many others. Thank you. I hope they’ll let me bring Tulea. I have particularly fond memories of the Cloisters back in the 50s when I would sit on the grassy hillside just outside the walls and make out with Jean, a French soldier I was dating (on leave from the French/Algerian War).

I got a couple of emails from friends in Atlanta congratulating me on the article/review by the Theatre critic in the Atlanta Journal Constitution. I’ll have to confess I asked one friend to send it to me. I guess that’s one I’ll read. Speaking of Atlanta, Anne Sterchi, who lives in my building in Atlanta, came backstage yesterday and brought me a little pot with some of the Lavender and Stipa Robusta that grows in our courtyard—along with photos of the courtyard covered with snow and some of the pooches we’re used to playing with. Made me kinda homesick!

See you next time.

Tonight-perhaps because last night was such a high–we were slightly off kilter-especially at the start, forgot lines, made mistakes, but because we now know our characters so well, we know how to recoup, ad lib, find our way back. I had such a good time on stage tonight. But, today, it was wierd. Colin, Samantha and I all commented on it tonight before the show– first day with no rehearsal– nothing structured before the night’s performance!! We all felt discombobulated. I slept till noon, floated around and then took a nap at 4pm–not knowing what else to do. I got to the theatre at 5pm–3 hours early–just because that’s where it felt safe. I know this will change and I will get used to the new free time, but it will take awhile. I just scheduled regular workouts at Pilates on Fifth, partly cause I need it, (haven’t worked out in 2 weeks!!!)but partly cause I need something regular to do 3-4 times a week.

Adrian Bailey from The Little Mermaid. Was at the show tonight. He’s a chorus member that was walking to his place for the top of the show back in early 2008. Around this time of year, he walked through a trap door from above the deck and fell quite a distance. He nows uses a cane to walk. He is much loved by Broadway folk.

See you next time.

Last night, Regina Scully came to the show with four friends. When they came back after, I looked at one of the women and said, “Don’t I know you?” “No,” she replied, “We’ve never met.” Then Regina said that the sister of two of the women had died of ALS and I immediately knew why I knew the woman—Valerie Estess. “You were in that video about your sister, as she died, “Three Sisters Searching for a Cure”! You were the one who did all the talking! Of course I know you!” How could I forget? I’ve watched the video so many times, studying her sister. I wept when I realized who was in the room with me and how much this disease has changed their lives. I was happy when both sisters (Valerie and Meredith) told me I had the disease nailed in the show.

They have continued the research project they started while their sister was still alive—Project A.L.S. (www.projectals.org). We discussed doing a benefit for their organization in the Spring. All money goes into research. They’ve created a stem cell lab at Columbia where they’re researching stem cells and motor neurons—what destroys them and what can heal them.

With them was their board co-chair, Martha McCully, who writes “My Reinvention Tour” on the Huffington Post. We hung out for quite awhile after the show talking about their sister and what they are doing now.

Today I had an interesting, far-reaching interview with theatre critic Wendell Brock, from the Atlanta Journal Constitution (my home town paper). He happens to be a friend of Scott Peacock’s and had somewhat the same (spiritual) reaction to the play. He brought me a box of Girl Scout cookies from Atlanta.

We had a brief rehearsal during the time I usually nap, so—gulp—I hope my energy doesn’t flag. I doubt that it will. Even though I’m not nervous, knowing the critics are out there does give an added adrenalin boost.

Wouldn’t you know it, on such an important night, a personal crisis arose and I could feel my stress hormones rising in my body till I shook. But I meditated for a few minutes before rehearsal and have calmed down enough to feel it won’t affect the performance. I try to look on something like this as a test. Can I rise above and maintain when it matters. I’ll let you know tomorrow.

See you next time. (unless something really unusual happens. And if it does, maybe I’ll just Twitter)