1. Check recent photos for a good-enough post title.
Which of those photos might inspire a post title, for you?
2. Acknowledge a special event.
For example, today is my and my son Aaron’s first day home after an incredible vacation in Edinburgh, Scotland with our excellente relative Deborah. Plus, it’s my boyfriend Michael’s birthday.
3. Go with your first instinct.
Okay!
Before I end this well-enough-titled post, here’s a song inspired by one of my photos, above.
Awesome and aptly titled thanks to Aaron, to Michael, to my ex-sister-in-law Deborah, to everybody else appearing in this excellently-titled post (mostly from the Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2015), and to you — of course! — no matter what your title is.
On our last day in Edinburgh, I saw this on a stage at the Festival Fringe:
When I saw “Cream of the Crop” (the name of a fictional game show), I thought, “That’s a creme de la creme title for tomorrow’s post.”
That post title rose to the top, for me, because:
this vacation/holiday has been the cream of the crop in so many ways,
on our last day at the 2015 Festival Fringe we had many cream-of-the-crop experiences, and
that title allows me to just post the best-of-the-best photos I took yesterday, before we leave the hotel to catch a really early plane to return home to Boston, USA.
Here’s the cream of yesterday’s crop:
I don’t have time to separate out and explain each of those cream-of-the-crop photos, but I will tell you we saw wonderful performances yesterday — including Sanctuary and Pop Pop — and we ate some great food at the Vittoria Restaurant (owned by Tony on the right, above).
One thing that was missing, before yesterday, was the cream of the crop local Edinburgh comedian, Tom Joyce, whom my son Aaron and I had luckily encountered during our two previous visits to the Festival Fringe.
Yesterday was such a cream of the crop day, that we ran into Tom when we left the restaurant …
… and then got to see him on stage as a member of The Improverts.
If you’ve read a bumper crop of my previous posts, you’d know that I LOVE fireworks. Sure enough, on our final night in Edinburgh, i saw those, too:
Here’s to next August in Edinburgh, lads and lassies, and Auld Lang Syne.
Top thanks to my son Aaron, to my ex-sister-in-law Deborah, to Susanne Sulby for Sanctuary, to Penny Greenhalgh for Pop Pop, to Tony and Angela at Vittore, to Tom Joyce, to the Improverts, to the Scottish people, to the wonderful city of Edinburgh, to all the performers and other folk who helped make our stay here so magical, and to you — of course! — for being Cream of the Crop readers, every one.
My son Aaron, who has a very nice face, tells me that “Pareidolia” is the word for our tendency to see human faces where they do not exist.
For example, when I faced this car, yesterday, in Edinburgh, Scotland …
… it looked, to me, like it had a human face.
We probably see human faces, where they do not actually exist, as a way make the unfamiliar more reassuring.
It’s also reassuring to see actual human faces, especially if they look friendly.
That’s Joanna, who reassured us that the unfamiliar Scottish custom of including white AND pink marshmallows on hot chocolate was actually practiced widely across Europe.
That’s Fearghas, with whom we swapped recommendations about what shows to see at the Festival Fringe.
That’s one of the faces of the terrific improv group Men with Coconuts, whom we’ve faced several times this year and during the Festival Fringe in 2014.
One of the first friendly faces we saw in Edinburgh, when we arrived a week ago, was that of an imposing redhead, named Marc, from an original play called STYX:
While there are SO MANY choices at the Festival Fringe, we knew we would eventually face STYX, because we kept seeing the faces of Marc and his fellow STYX performers on the streets of Edinburgh. Also, STYX has a really stand-out poster, which our faces have been seeing everywhere. AND, we’ve been facing these neat give-aways in our hotel room, since we first saw the STYX players’ faces:
So, yesterday, we finally faced STYX. Here are two familiar faces I saw, before the show:
Here are faces I saw on stage:
Those are the faces of some amazingly inventive comic actors. I also faced some ridiculous synchronicities with my life in that hilarious play, including :
A character with heart problems,
Several plot points involving a DEFIBRILLATOR (installed in a phone booth) and
A woman hobbling around with a cane.
After we saw STYX, I took these photos of some friendly faces responsible for that fabulous and funny production:
Now, please face another photo of faces that were on stage AND off stage at yesterday’s great performance of STYX:
There were a lot more faces I faced yesterday, in amazing and beautiful Edinburgh. Let’s see what faces you notice in these photos:
That last photo includes the face of a performer my son Aaron and I have admired since last year’s Festival Fringe: Dr. Professor Neal Portenza, who also faces the real word as Joshua Ladgrove.
There’s our friend Josh performing on a bus last night, facing another enthusiastic audience. Face it, my dear readers, it was great seeing Josh perform, especially since he asked if any of the people facing him on that bus were able to be in the moment and — when he noticed my face nodding “Yes” — he told the whole audience that he READS THIS BLOG.
You can just imagine my face, when he said that.
Well, we now need to face our last full day in Edinburgh, including an 11 AM performance by this beautiful face we saw on our first day here:
Because I need to get ready to face Sanctuary and the rest of the day,I am going to ask you to face a post here today without any videos. Perhaps somebody who faces this blog can provide some Pareidolia -appropriate music?
Thanks to all the faces that make my life worth living, including yours!
What an amazing day in the heart of Edinburgh yesterday! I hope you can follow my attempt to try to capture it, here.
First, I met two wonderful women who share my incredibly rare heart condition — congenitally corrected transposition of the great arteries.
That’s Vicki and Andrena, posing with me after we shared a heart-to-heart-to-heart about our similar and yet unique experiences. Over my heart in that photo, I’m wearing my “Expert on my own experience” t-shirt. I had enough of a heart to bring along a similar t-shirt for one of my new heart buddies.
I am speaking straight from the heart when I tell you that I have NEVER met anybody else with my rare condition. It was heart-warmingly amazing to share experiences and reassurances with those two lovely ladies, who are Really Scottish in their hearts (and elsewhere).
Minutes after I left the good hearts of Vicki and Andrena, I saw this:
Is everybody following my heart, so far?
Next I was following my heart through the heart of Edinburgh, noticing other hearts:
Soon after my heart was considering getting the above gift for my sweetheart Michael (who is heartily taking care of our two cats near the heart of Boston USA), my heart sank into my feet when I fell off a high curb and felt fear in my heart that I had damaged my ankle.
My late father was a warm-hearted pharmacist and my heart knew enough about possible ankle sprains to buy this
at a nearby dispensing chemist and put it on like this, back at our hotel room:
I knew in my heart that was the right place to put it, rather than on my heart or on my knee (as pictured on the packaging).
I also followed my heart to rest in my room and to NOT take this ibuprofen pill
despite assurances at the chemist that it was okay to take with my anti-coagulant medication, which I need every day for my heart. I also followed my heart to email the most accessible heart doctor ever — Boston’s (and my) lion-hearted Doctor Deeb Salem.
Here’s the heart of our email exchange yesterday, which dispelled fear in my heart about a possible heart-rending sprain to my foot:
Hi Deeb,
About an hour ago, I stepped down wrong (twice!) and felt a fair amount of pain in my ankle. I am now back at my hotel room, elevating the ankle after wrapping it with an ace bandage that also applies cooling. (Europe is ahead of us in certain ways.) The clerk at the pharmacy said I could take Ibuprofen with Xarelto, but I’m assuming that is incorrect.
I was googling “sprained ankle on vacation” and noticed some scary stuff about blood clots so I thought I would write you and get your take on how I could best stay safe. I would rather not go to hospital as they say around here, if possible.
Also, earlier today I had breakfast with two lovely women in their 40’s who have cctga. They both thought you sounded like a wonderful doctor.
I am not using a cell phone for calls here, but I do have Wi Fi so I can check email.
Thanks!
As usual, Dr. Salem had the heart to respond within minutes, as follows:
Ann,
Sorry to hear about your ankle sprain:
Do NOT ibuprofen. It will increase your chance of bleeding when you are on Xarelto
Blood clots are very rare with ankle sprains and since you are on a heavy duty anticlotting med (Xarelto) your chance of a blood clot is exceedingly low.
Having had over a dozen sprained ankles myself you are doing all the right things. Did they put you in a boot? Did you get an x-ray to rule out a small fracture (not that the treatment is much different)?
Deeb
I followed my heart to write back, like so:
I didn’t get a boot. I was thinking of just keeping it wrapped and getting a walking stick. I’m also wondering how long I should keep off of it. I didn’t get an X-ray and would really rather not. There is a lot of walking involved in the Fringe Festival here. We have tickets to things every day.
Thanks for being my consulting doctor from many miles away.
Dr. Salem, heart doctor extraordinaire, then followed:
Ann,
If you are not in too much pain and can wrap the ankle well it is probably OK to give it a try. If the bruising is excessive (which means you have bled a lot into your ankle) you should keep off it or at least get a boot.
Then, I followed my heart to hobble around and look for a real Scottish walking stick. I got one that worked its heart out for me last night, so I could follow my excellent ex-sister-in-law and my son Aaron to a heart-felt production of the musical Rent.
The production was so amazingly brilliant, that I cried during this number, my heart exceedingly touched:
“Will I Lose My Dignity” gets to one of the many hearts-of-the-matter in that incredibly heart-felt musical.
Soon after that number, I followed my heart to realize that one of the original cast members, Anthony Rapp, who had worked closely with the late Jonathan Larson — the show’s genius of a writer — was sitting in the row behind me. During intermission, Mr. Rapp was kind-hearted enough to allow me to take his picture.
Then, after the show was over and I was openly weeping, Mr. Rapp and I had a heart-warming discussion about the untimely death of Jonathan Larson, who died the night before Rent opened in 1996, of an undetected, congenital weakness of his heart.
I’m not sure how to end this post, except to follow my heart to the final two photos I took last night, after a most amazing day:
If you have any questions or comments, please follow your heart to express them, below.
Heart-following thanks to the people who put on a kick-ass production of Rent last night, to Anthony Rapp, to Andrena and Vicki, to Dr. Salem, to my son Aaron and my excellent ex-sister-in-law Deborah, to the late and great Jonathan Larson, and to you — of course! — for following your heart, here and now.
Yesterday, my son Aaron, his aunt Deborah, and I went on a 12-hour tour of the Scottish Highlands, which was
… really Scottish of us.
In reality,
I’m not Scottish at all,
Deborah and Aaron may have some Scottish blood, and
Aaron looks
… really Scottish, don’t you agree?
Even though I am 0% Scottish, I know more about being really Scottish today than I did yesterday. On the bus tour, I learned the following:
Stirling, a town north of Edinburgh, means “endeavor” or “striving.”
The horse-head statues we saw on our first day in Edinburgh were inspired by two gigantic statues on the side of the road to the Highlands.
The Scottish Highlands have their own strangely adorable cows.
The Scottish Highlands have their own strangely mysterious beauty.
Loch Ness is so deep and so large that the water there is more than the water held by all the other bodies of water in the United Kingdom, combined.
“Ben” means mountain and Ben Nevis (which means “mountain with head in the clouds”) is the tallest point in the United Kingdom.
Hot chocolate in the Highlands does NOT have the requisite white and pink marshmallows found in Edinburgh.
No matter how much beauty is all around, certain 0% Scottish people like to take certain types of photos.
The word “Inver” — as in “Inverness” — means “mouth” (and certain people who look Scottish and are born of mothers who are 0% Scottish go all artistic when asked to take pictures in the Scottish Highlands).
Any really Scottish or any other questions?
I leaned more really Scottish facts yesterday, but I need to get ready to meet two people whom I believe are really Scottish and who both have the same extraordinarily unusual congenital heart condition as I do.
Before I end this post, here‘s some really Scottish music Deborah and I were singing along to yesterday on the tour bus.
Really Scottish thanks to my son Aaron, to my excellent ex-sister-in-law Deborah, to the bus driver Peter, to Alastair McDonald, to all the Lochs, Bens, and other amazing things we saw yesterday, and to you — of course! — no matter how Scottish you are.
Yesterday, in a part of Edinburgh near the sea, I was lucky enough to see a tangible sign of what to call today’s post.
Here are other experiences that, to me, were tangible:
Some of those photos — including that giant sculpture of a hand– tangibly demonstrate one meaning of tangible: “touchable.”
One of my tangible motives for this post is to finish it quickly, so my son Aaron, Aaron’s aunt Deborah, and I can go on a tour today of the tangibly beautiful countryside outside of Edinburgh. We are leaving soon, at the tangibly early time of 7:30 AM, which might make me rather touchy.
At the same time, another tangible motive for today’s post is to show you other experiences that tangibly touched me yesterday, including images from our walk to and through the Lethe section of Edinburgh:
We also saw some tangibly great performances at the Festival Fringe.
Hurt and Anderson …
… tangibly stood out from all the others trying to create tangible audiences for their shows yesterday.
Here were some of the tangible high points of Hurt and Anderson’s smart and confident sketch comedy, that I was tangibly able to capture:
I could almost touch their set list from our tangibly front-row seats …
… which I just turned around — with a few touches on my phone — so you could tangibly read it:
The other tangible performance we were touched by yesterday was that of Dr. Professor Neal Portenza in “Catchy Show Title” again.
Here is tangible proof of the good Dr. Professor’s kindness:
Those were hand-written tickets touchingly arranged for us, at the last tangible minute. Last night, we were sitting within touching distance of his tangible inventiveness with his tangible audience:
I took the above photo when Dr. professor P asked the audience, “Can you feel it?” We could all feel it.
Then, the tangibly brilliant Dr. Professor posed for my touch-screen camera:
Later this week, we may share a tangible meal with Dr. Professor Portenza, where I may ask him this tangible question: “How does one become a Doctor AND a professor at such a young age?” and my son Aaron might ask if it’s true that an audience member really broke his ribs, in Australia, by touching him too hard with one of these tangible plungers:
I’m not sure what tangible tune would go best with this touchy-freely post, so I’ll pick some music from the Dr. Professor’s show:
I know that “Lovely Day” by Bill Withers will tangibly touch at least one of my readers. For you, what was most tangible about this post?
A lovely day to everybody who touched this tangible post and for you, especially, I leave this tangible message:
Yesterday morning, my son Aaron, my excellente ex-sister-in-law Deborah, and I walked over to the New Town section of Edinburgh, to try out a highly regarded breakfast spot named “Urban Angel.”
When we got there, we found this:
Due to unforeseen circumstances, we ended up at a fine breakfast establishment next door, with more unforeseen circumstances, including:
Deborah ordering six shots of Espresso and cream and getting whipped cream instead of regular cream on the side,
white AND pink marshmallows adorning a glass of fine Italian hot chocolate,
my foreseenly breakfast-shunning son eating most of his hearty breakfast (except for the more than forty seen beans), and
four unforeseen backpackers at the next table unforeseenly singing German Christmas songs, out of season. When those four seemingly German singers asked us if we had any requests, we then had the unforeseen circumstance of my being serenaded — in Scotland on August 14 — with “O Tannenbaum.”
Other unforeseen circumstances, yesterday, included an extended walk around foreseen Edinburgh, where all the unforseen-ness of the following unforeseen scenes were seen:
Here’s an unforeseen circumstance: I’m going to ask you to guess what all those unforeseen flavors are for, above.
After the unforeseen circumstance of over forty seen flavors at a restaurant, there was yet another unforeseen and un-four-scene circumstance:
Unforseenly, Aaron and I totally disagreed about a Festival Fringe performance of Stephen Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd. While I LOVED the unforseen and flawless navigation of a complex score by all the singers and musicians, Aaron disliked the acting.
Then, we encountered a few more unforeseen circumstances, at this foreseen Fringe Festival venue:
Lote — who was handing out unforeseen flyers outside the world-famous and formerly seen Frankenstein establishment — told us, unforeseenly, that she:
was given the name “Charlotte” at birth,
chose the name “Lote” for herself because it’s Elvish for “blossoming flower,”
is of Russian Jewish descent, and
was convinced we would all love a stand-up comedian who was (1) performing at the Frankenstein in four minutes and (2) a master of punning.
Then, this unforeseen circumstance: none of us enjoyed the foreseen punning of that comedian.
Two more unforeseen circumstances:
My red eye is NOT fading and
My purple hair extension is.
That foreseen red eye may look bad, but it is unforeseenly and completely painless.
Is it unforeseen what music I’ve seen as seemly for this unforeseen post?
Unforeseen thanks to all those who unforeseenly contributed to this unforeseen and circumstantial post and foreseen thanks to you — of course! — no matter what your circumstances, today.
Yesterday morning, my son Aaron, Aaron’s aunt Deborah, and I were very happy to meet Christina.
Christina owns a lovely tea room near our hotel in Edinburgh, Scotland.
Christina not only served us a delicious breakfast, she also shared photos of herself when she was younger, as well as some important thoughts about life:
When Christina showed us “Never Give Up,” I got pretty teary-eyed. I guess it struck a chord.
Throughout our wonderful day at the Festival Fringe, whenever I felt tired navigating the ups and downs of Edinburgh, I remembered “Never Give Up.” And, like Christina, I kept pushing on.
And when we encountered talented, funny, and soulful people, it was obvious they had never given up, either. They were still sharing their creativity and vision with others, despite inevitable ups and downs.
Those last two photos are from Dr. Professor Neal Portanza’s incredibly inventive and hilarious show — “Catchy Show Title.”
If you never gave up reading my blogs from the 2014 Edinburgh Fringe, you might remember the good Dr. Professor putting Aaron on stage in his brilliant performance piece from last year — “Dr. Professor Neal Portenza Performs His Own Autopsy.”
Aaron hasn’t made it on stage at the Fringe. so far, in 2015. Yesterday, however, he did win this:
… from the amazing Improvisational Group “Men with Coconuts.” My son — who never gives up having great ideas — came up with the name for yesterday’s musical extravaganza
“I Have No Spine.”
Because I have given up trying to capture everything here at the Fringe, I have no video of the many improvised songs from “I Have No Spine” — including the stirring and inspirational title tune.
Here’s what came up on YouTube when I searched for “Never Give Up.”
Finally, as I give up trying to make today’s post perfect, here’s free stuff some of the Fringe performers, pictured above, gave us yesterday:
I never give up loving those kinds of encounters.
Non-spineless thanks to everybody in this never-give-up post and to you — of course! — for never giving up, too.
My right eye is still bright red, faithful readers, but I’m not complaining. That brilliant red color fits right in, here at the Festival Fringe.
There are a lot of things in Edinburgh that caught my jet-lagged and very red eye yesterday, after our Red Eye flight from Boston through London (where our baggage was especially lagged, but finally arrived last night by 1 AM, festival time).
I took that last shot at a Midnight Show of creative and absurdly nice comedians. The guy on stage had just said this about the venue: “Isn’t this like being in the inside of a coffin? This is like the last thing you’d see before you got cremated.”
What catches your eye most, here today? I have to especially call your attention to Edinburgh’s proclivity for bragging about being THE SMALLEST:
… which perhaps explains another reason I fit in here:
… with the world’s smallest hairbrush.
Gotta go get ready for another perfect day at the Festival!
But first, here‘s the prologue from “Into the Woods” (which I watched on the plane and which features a festival:
Eye-catching thanks to the cast of thousands we saw yesterday during the first night of our 8-day festival and to you — of course! — for bringing your eyes here, today.
interesting things to notice in Boston, London, Scotland, and in-between,
love and concern — from caring people around the world — and
easy ways to continue my venerable tradition of blogging 955 days in a row (although probably at different posting times, while my son, my excellente ex-sister-in-law, Deborah, and I are here).
At this writing I do NOT have plenty of
… baggage.
But who needs baggage in this beautiful world of ours, with so many great sights and sounds?
Plus, Deborah just messaged me — on my iPhone — that “delivery process has been initiated” for our bags.
I got plenty of gratitude for people who initiate solutions, my son Aaron, my excellente ESIL Deborah, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, brilliant and stupendous people in London, Scotland, and elsewhere, and you — of course! — no matter what baggage you’re carrying around, today.
