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Old 12-24-2020, 04:14 PM   #1
Teach
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A Christmas Carol

Turn the clock back over 50 years. It’s the late 1960’s. I’m a young, unmarried guy: drinking, smoking and gambling. During the day, I masquerade as a high school history teacher. At the time,
I’m teaching at an affluent community on Long Island’s North Shore. The reason I took the job was because the town was located equidistant between Roosevelt Raceway and Yonkers. For that matter, it wasn’t far from Belmont or Aqueduct.

It was just before Christmas that English and history classes were going to be bused to the city of Stratford, CT. Why are we going to Stratford? We’re goin’ there because they have what is called The American Shakespeare Theater (Didn’t Shakespeare play for the Raiders? Guess not.) What I know about Shakespeare you can fit on the head of a pin. Now if you want to ask me about the speed and endurance of thoroughbred and standardbred race horses…

As it turns out, we going to see one of Shakespeare’s comedies; it’s called “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” The only line that I know from that play is: “What Fools Ye Mortals Be.”

Anyway, it’s the end of Act I. I recall making a beeline for the concession stand. I stopped to get a “tonic” (what cultured Boston people call soda ‘pop.”). It was there that I made the acquaintance of a Carol Livingstone. She was also a teacher. I remember that she broached the conversation by saying: “You like Shakespeare?” What was I to say? A beautiful young woman is standing in front of me. “Yes, I do like Shakespeare.” I answered. In reality, I was not a Shakespeare fan (Not that I had anything against “The Bard,” it’s just that his plays were not at the top of my reading list). Playboy, Oui, Sir, DRF, etc. That’s more my cup o’ tea.

It was then that I introduced myself. We carried on a brief conversation. “What do you teach, Walt?” Carol asked. I told her history. I then asked her what she taught. She told me she taught literature at The Chapin School in New York City. Gauche, callow, “wet-behind-the-ears” me. I had never heard of one of the most prestigious, private all-girls schools in the country. She went on to say that the school’s motto was: “Fortiter et Recte”. I understood that. Six years of Latin will do it. It means: “Bravely and Rightly”. Just before I left, Carol handed me her card. It was a business card that said: “Shakespearean Tutor.” As I headed back into the theater, I thought, “Just what I need, a Shakespearean tutor!” Now, if Carol’s card had read: “Expert Handicapper” or “Sex Therapist.”

About two weeks go by since our school’s visit to the Shakespeare Theater. I recall I was cleaning out my wallet when I remember noticing that my Boston Public Library card had expired. It was then that I spotted Carol Livingstone’s business card.

I decided to give her a call. Our conversation went something like this: “Hi Carol, remember me, Walt, the Long Island history teacher. We met at the Shakespearean Theater. I’m calling to see if you’d like to go out Saturday evening.” Carol replied, “I’m available, but there’s one wrinkle.” Carol went on to say that from between 7 to 9 p.m. she was having a meeting of her Shakespearean discussion group. She then suggested that I come to the meeting to meet “her friends” and to take part in the discussion. I remember her then saying, “Afterwards, we could go out for a repast.” Repast. Give me a break! (What she didn’t know was that I was in inner-city Boston kid who - as Joe Pesci might have said – spent his “yute” in pool halls).

Yet, despite my misgivings, I decided to take Carol up on her Shakespearean discussion group offer and the “repast” that followed. Before she hung up, she told me that she lived in a Manhattan apartment at 995 Fifth Avenue. I subsequently looked it up. The apartment building overlooked Central Park. Posh.

That Saturday evening I arrived at Carol’s apartment building (I remember there was a doorman). When I entered her apartment. There were a half-a-dozen other people there. I have to assume they were all Shakespearean aficionados. Carol introduced me. “Everyone, this is Walt. I met him in at Stratford’s Shakespearean Theater.” At that moment, I half-expected to hear someone to call out: “Hail fellow, well met!”

One by one, each of Carol’s friends introduced themselves. They were all nattily attired. One guy had on an ascot. Frankly, I felt out of place, especially from the clothing standpoint. I was wearing a blue broadcloth shirt (my mother did buy it at Brooks Brothers), neatly-pressed slacks, and loafers.

I remember that one woman in the group was named Natalie (I use mnemonics to remember names). Natalie bore a passing resemblance to the actress Natalie Wood. I easily recalled her name. One down and five to go.

The meeting was now getting under way. The topic for that evening was “Romeo & Juliet.” One of the participants got the ball rolling (I believe his name was Chauncey). He said, “Why don’t we begin by discussing “the balcony scene”? “Who’ll get us started?” he asked. “I’ll start,” Carol said. She began by saying that she felt that the “balcony scene” was the most beautiful scene in the whole play. She goes on to say that, metaphorically speaking, Juliet is the sun and Romeo is the moon. Carol continues by saying that this light/dark motif is a thread that runs throughout the play. I must admit that at this moment I was ready to head for the nearest NYC OTB betting parlor.

Everyone, in turn, was asked for their comments. Yet you’d have to have been an English Lit. major with a strong background in Shakespeare to have really appreciated it. I’m not. Now if the group were to discuss who was the greatest racehorse of all-time.

As the discussion went on, I made the best of it. I believe it was Natalie who asked me my thoughts on Shakespeare. I told her and the group that I had read some of his plays in both high school and college (more like reading the Cliff Notes). I then added that the musical, “West Side Story,” was based on “Romeo & Juliet”. Duh! I believe everyone in the group already knew that.

It was then that a fella named Rex picked up on my Boston accent. He says, “Did you go to Harvard?” I said, “No, BU.” “Baylor,” he said. No, Boston University. At that moment, I couldn’t resist doing my Harvard Yard parody. I said: “Pahk yah cah in Hahvahd Yahd.” I then added, “When you make a turn, ’remembah to uze yah blinkah.’” Rex laughed. Yet, seconds later, Rex, a Princeton grad, said, “If you’re not careful, I’ll sing you my version of “Old Nassau.”

Mercifully, at least from my standpoint, this Shakespeare meeting was coming to an end. Carol and I were now free to enjoy, as she had put it, “a repast.” Carol recommended we go down to what she called a “tea house” that was on the southern end of Central Park; it was near Madison Ave. She went on to say we could have a “spot of tea” and some petit fours or scones. We finally arrived at the “tea house.” I looked at the menu. I thought to myself: pricey. Whenever I had a cup of tea, I’d drop a tea bag in a mug and add hot water. Here they charge you $2 for the privilege. The petit fours and scones were also quite expensive. This is quite a step up for a guy whose usual fare is a school lunch, or when school is not in session, Wetson’s (Long Island’s version of McDonald’s) hamburgers.

As we sipped on our $2 teas, I asked Carol where she was originally from. She said she was born right here in Manhattan. She added that her father was a direct descendant of Robert Livingstone. She went on to say that Robert Livingstone was one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. She further mentioned that she had gone to college at Bryn Mawr.

After the “meal,” we went back to her place. As we’re riding back, I really don’t know what to make of this situation. I’m out of my league. A “blue-blood,” I ain’t. I’m the grandson of immigrant stock. Carol, on the other hand, probably has a family tree filled with descendants who came over on The Mayflower, or who are Daughters of the American Revolution, or F.F.V. (First Families of Virginia). One thing I will say, she was very attractive.

When we get back to her apartment I wasn’t sure how I wanted to play this. I could just say: “good-night,” or I could try for what I call “extra-curricular” activities, e.g., petting, necking, etc. I decided to go for the latter, especially when Sarah invited me to sit down on the couch next to her. Yet, as soon as I made the slightest advance, she backed off. However, I had one more card to play. I knew I had to pull “a rabbit out of a hat”. It called for an unusual approach.

I began (I had studied up on this in preparation for the Shakespeare discussion group): “By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself. Because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word.”

Carol responds: “My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue’s uttering, yet I know the sound.
Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?”
(At this moment, I move closer to Sarah. She not pulling away. I put my arm around her).

I reply: “Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.”
(I then kiss Sarah on the cheek; she’s receptive).

Carol replies: “How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.”
(Sarah kisses me on the lips).

I say: “With love’s light wings did I o'erperch these walls.
For stony limits cannot hold love out.
And what love can do, that dares love attempt.
Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.”
(Soon, we are kissing, passionately).

Carol concludes: “If they do see thee they will murder thee.”
(We’re locked in an embrace. Our passionate kissing continues).

In the end, that was about as far as it went. No carnal knowledge. It was fun while it lasted. We simply ran out of lines.

As a postscript, I never saw Carol Livingstone again. The gap was just too great. And, besides, I wasn’t about to start memorizing lines from Shakespeare’s plays to have an amorous relationship.

Exeunt.

Merry Christmas!
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Last edited by Teach; 12-24-2020 at 04:19 PM.
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Old 12-24-2020, 04:26 PM   #2
Greyfox
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Thanks Teach.
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU AND YOURS"

By the way,
"Where the bee sucks, there suck I."


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Old 12-24-2020, 04:29 PM   #3
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But did you get to the nearest OTB before closing time?


Nice story Teach. Thanks for sharing.
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Old 12-24-2020, 05:11 PM   #4
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Great story and well written.
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Old 12-24-2020, 09:03 PM   #5
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Teach, at the end of the evening I would have switched to Hamlet and given her a "Nymph, in thy orisons, be all my sins remember'd."
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Old 12-24-2020, 10:48 PM   #6
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So you missed out on a potential threesome then? Carol, Sarah and you?
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Old 12-25-2020, 01:15 AM   #7
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I grew up in Stratford.

Merry Christmas, Teach.
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Old 12-25-2020, 06:36 PM   #8
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Very nice Teach..Merry Christmas
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Old 12-25-2020, 07:40 PM   #9
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Teach View Post
The only line that I know from that play is: “What Fools Ye Mortals Be.”
"What fools these mortals be."
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Old 12-25-2020, 08:16 PM   #10
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Well now she's back in her world and I'm still stuck in mine
But I know I'll always remember the time
A cowboy once had a millionaire's dream
And Lord I love that lady wearin' tight fittin' jeans


---conway twitty
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Old 12-25-2020, 08:31 PM   #11
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"Hear my soul speak: The very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service." -- The Tempest (Ferdinand to Miranda)

Brush up on your Shakespeare, Walt. A horseplayer in search of "love" has to try TWICE as hard.

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Old 12-25-2020, 08:49 PM   #12
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Here you go, Teach - Cole Porter said it best in this iconic scene from "Kiss Me, Kate."

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Old 12-25-2020, 08:53 PM   #13
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I missed where Sarah entered and Carol was there and Sarah was there and Carol left and.......

What did I miss here? Because I was kind of interested, and then I was REALLY interested, and then Carol became Sarah and Sarah was already Carol and.....

So, was she a dual personality, or did it just get kind of crowded?

You never saw Carol again, but did you ever see Sarah again? She sounded a bit more "interesting" than Carol, if you know what I mean.

Last edited by ultracapper; 12-25-2020 at 08:56 PM.
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Old 12-26-2020, 08:04 AM   #14
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This is, by and large, a true story. Only the names have been changed to protect the guilty. Frankly, I don’t remember if her first name was Carol, or if you prefer, Sarah. All I recall was that her last name was Livingstone. I believe when I first wrote this article, years ago, I used Sarah because I thought it sounded more “blue blood.” I used Carol (I forgot to change “Sarah” to “Carol” in the last couple paragraphs) because it sounded more Christmas-like. “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Then there was the time that I got involved with computerized dating (that also occurred when I was teaching on Long Island) only to find out that my date was a “cross-dresser”: “The Her Who Was A He”
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Old 12-26-2020, 10:20 AM   #15
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I've got the perfect movie clip for that, too, Teach.

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