The Farewell Tour

One of the chapters-or the Preface- of the FONT GOD will be 'Scenes from a Marriage'.  I am going to confine my involvement with Mike in that one place.  I construe 'marriage' to encompass first meeting, dating, marriage, divorce, post divorce legal wrangling with Apple Computer, disease to-if God wills- death.

It is so peculiar.  As I've been writing the personal stuff-and continuing to assist Mike through his Alzheimer's-I have been having flashbacks, memories, and dreams of another great, long-dead love competing for my head time and making demands for his own story to be told.  Is this my own dalliance? At this stage of my life, my men want me for my mind, not my body! All those 1960s Feminist marches and consciousness raising groups, the demands I had in my 20s: satisfied in my 60s. I look back and laugh. Actually, all those rolls in the hay weren't bad either. That long ago 'he', who so lovingly traced the appendix scar of my 18th year, would now have dozens of surgery souvenirs to ponder-so many he would wilt from fatigue before we ever got to 'the Deed'. There's the twist of fate. This solitary life of a writer sure holds its own set of complications and intrigues - all staged in my frontal and temporal lobes.

I protect Mike from things that may terrify him but I refuse to sugar-coat the reality of his present situation. As we shopped for new pants, shirt, tie, dress socks, and 'spit shined' his dress shoes, I referred to this Manhattan trip as his "Farewell Tour". I wanted to impress on Mike's diminishing memory that this trip was the last we would ever make. It was going to be not a romantic adventure but rather a sentimental tour of beloved places and treasured friends by a couple who are now Friends Again. Mike's been making noises that:
"My 'best ex' and I are back together again".
"No, Dear. That's not so. But, I'll help you through the rough patch."

Mike and I at the airports were a sideshow, I'm sure.
Tuesday morning, April 5:  I had to be in a wheelchair because of my inability to walk very far and my nearly useless left shoulder. I was constantly looking behind my porter to be sure Mike was right behind us. I told the porter to walk more slowly. When he would revert to speed walking, I shouted behind to Mike to answer me, Marco Polo fashion, until the porter got the idea if he did not slow down, there would be no tip. I believe he got that idea because I said it. Getting through security was complicated but surprising pleasant. I was obviously damaged and with just a discreet 'Alzheimer's' whispered, three TSA folks assisted us through the process.  Jet Blue seated us early. Confusion was minimized. I gave Mike the window seat.  The weather was relatively clear so he announced our location-my personal GPS-all the way to Kennedy.

When we got to Kennedy, I wanted to take a Carey Coach into town only to find out there is no more Carey Coach from Kennedy. I hate when the sands of time shift on me like that.  When I checked out anther shuttle-as Mike stood by just staring-they said it would be another forty minutes before it left again and there would be a number  (emphasis on the 'numb') of stops. "Screw It, " I said to Mike. "We are forking over for a cab."

Mike was pretty quiet on the way into the city. Even though he used to live on Long Island and Brooklyn, nothing looked too familiar.  He was also very tired.  I was eager to get to the hotel.  We checked into the Wyndham Garden on 36th St West and I got Mike settled in his room as my room was not yet cleaned.  The Assisted Living Facility had packed him a box lunch.  I told him it was okay to eat it in bed. He was ready for a two hour nap.  I went downstairs to have lunch in the Wyndham Cafe.  I then went next door to the Type Designers Club to let Carol Wahler know we made it down okay. I wanted her to know we would be on time on Wednesday at Noon for Mike's interview and filming for the archives.

I awakened Mike in time to have a spot of dinner before we went to the Met. I rushed him at dinner because he was lingering. It was as though he was trying to make every minute last for five.  I saw a flash of his old temper, " I will finish soon. Just be patient." I responded, "Mike, the opera tickets were very expensive and if we are late, we will not be seated.  I've paid the cafe bill. While you finish, I'll hail a cab." As soon as I left the table, he scampered to join me.  I noticed how nervous he was to be left alone. New York was strange to him; that it was, was strange to me. This man used to own the City. We were able to get a cab and get to Lincoln Center in time to pick up our tickets and be seated for a few minutes before the program began. The fabled 'Parker Late for Everything' has ended.


One Huge Section on the Opera: Skip if you are not an Aficionado 
And, what a program it was. Le Comte Ory.  I had never heard of this Rossini gem.  The story, like most opera, is implausible but the music was gorgeous. I will quote from the somewhat bitchy Opera Today revue, because in essence I agree with the writer, John Yohalem : "The hero may be a rogue-in fact rogue is his job description- and may even be  cutthroat or worse, but he is a lovable fellow for all that. And he almost never gets to home-plate with with the ladies whose hearts he flutters; the censors would not have stood for it. Thus the joke of Gilbert and Sullivan's spoof in The Pirates of Penzance: Their chorus-full of reckless rogues lust "to be married with impunity" to the bevy of helpless females they are about to abduct. (Is it coincidence that most of the sexy scoundrel operas are French? Non!) The censors would not have stood for it then, but there are no censors now, and opera directors are all for full disclosure. This mars Barlett Sher's colorful if bare-bones staging of Le Comte Ory for the Met. Consider the final trio: Ory, our scoundrel, has disguised himself as a nun in order to enter Countess Adele's bed in her darkened chamber. Unbeknownst to him (but obvious enough to us) Adele's young suitor, Isolier, is also present, and in fact the Count is embracing Isolier as Isolier embraces Adele. If this seems a bit racy for 1828, even in Paris, ne vous-inquietez pas: Isolier is played by a mezzo-soprano. Audiences did not mind watching a man fiddle with a boy so long as the boy was obviously a woman. (The first time I saw this opera, Lucky Pierre- sorry, Isolier- was played b a counter-tenor; he seemed to be enjoying himself.)
But, in Sher's production, all three persons scramble around each other among the bed clothes as if this were an ordinary three-way with no story to tell, and it is impossible for the count to not to be aware he is in bed with two other people. Adele, too, should not be aware of what is going on; here she is a merry participant. It may seem a small point, and everyone around me found the slapstick hilarious, but the premises of farce must be taken seriously for the mad machine to work properly. Either Isolier (Joyce DiDonato) is a man or she isn't; if she isn't, why does Adele hope to marry her? If she is, why does the skirt-chasing Count enjoy being in bed with him? It is as if Lucy schemed to divorce Desi and demanded custody of his Band: It violates the clear farcical contract for which we have been so carefully set up.
Sher, as in this previous Met shows, Barbiere and Hoffman, is always willing to dump the plot to insert a dumb joke; this was also true of his disastrous staging of Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown. He seems only capable of theatrical discipline if the piece is, like South Pacific, sacrosanct, guarded b those who keep him in line. He has no theatrical clarity of his own. Is this the sort of anything-for-a-laugh mayhem what Peter Gelb means when he refers to a "new realism" in the opera house?
The singers have been encouraged not to play this charming piece straight. I would find the evening pleasanter (and probably funnier) if Diane Damrau, a fine singer as well as a fine comic actress, sang the dizzy Countess's fruity tunes with a bit more attention to proper line and with fewer wildly mugged high notes, and if Juan Diego Florez's nasal tenor, never the most sensuous of instruments, were not quite so dry. He is choosing roles lately that do not exhibit his extraordinary virtuosity, and his is not and instrument to make it in bel canto otherwise. There are far prettier tenor voices around.
What I wonder, would Rothenberger and Gedda have made of the bedroom trio? With, say, Teresa Berganza as Isolier? I can't help thinking they'd have each contrived to keep one foot on the floor , in the old-time Hollywood fashion, but they still would have been funnier than Sher's staging, and they would have sounded like a glimpse of heaven.
Joyce DiDonato, As Isolier, is a lovely performer who does not let her farce-making get in the way of torrents of beautiful Rossini, as heartfelt as they are pure. She is the reason to visit Le Comte Ory and the reason to linger to the very end. Suzanne Resmark revealed a most attractive alto voice with more to display than was evident in the Margaret Dumont-like housekeeper role. Michele Pertusi was all that could be desired as the Tutor and Stephane Degout filled our grateful ears with dark baritone during his drinking song. Mauriaio Beneni kept the orchestral sound low so as not to interfere with the singer's audibility, though as sher (as Usual) pushed them all to the edge of the stage apron, this was probably unnecessary. in the old days, and not very old either, singers could fill the Met from mid-stage and revel in the filling." So that was Mike's last visit to the Met. He was confused, charmed, amused, baffled and overall, loved it. Opera Section Done.

On Wednesday April 6, I let Mike sleep in until 9:30.  We had breakfast and then dressed for his Archival interview and filming at the Type Designers Club. Nick Sherman, typographer and active member of the Type Designers Club and ATypI was the interviewer.  He had really done his homework and asked many incisive questions.  The interview was to have lasted one hour but it went on for two.  Mike replied "I can't remember." more times than I could count.  I was concerned there was not enough to make a good tape but Nick, graciously said he had enough to work with. Mike and I took Nick back to the Wyndham Cafe for a late lunch. I was trying to get mike at ease to give Nick more background that would aid him in the slice and paste for the archives. After that, I settled Mike for another long nap. At 5 PM both Harry and Joanne arrived. I woke Mike to get dressed.  Once again, in atypical Parker fashion, we were early for the ceremony.

Diego Vainesman talked for a short while then introduce Cyrus Highsmith who gave his recollections of working with Mike.  He introduced David Berlow who described Mike through the Linotype, Bitstream and Font Bureau years.  David always has a wry sense of humor and this time had the pictures to accompany it. David then introduced Carol Wahler who presented the TDC Medal to Mike.  He was very anxious and planned to just say Thank you.  However, at Carol's urging, Mike agreed to say 'a few words'. Jo, Harry and I held our breath. However, It was as though Mike tapped into a deep groove in his memory.  He first talked about the process he went through to get Matthew Carter to join Linotype in America. There was even a bit of humor.  Matthew and Mike had been friends since Matthew's father, Harry Carter, had been instrumental in getting Mike the 18 month assignment with the Plantin Museum in Antwerp.  For nearly a year, whenever he traveled to London on Linotype business, Mike stayed at Matthew's flat even though Matthew worked for competitor, Crosfield.  This would have been considered an untoward arrangement- if known -so Mike kept his accommodations secret. This was a source of rumor within Linotype that Mike had a London girlfriend.  When he was finally successful at recruiting Matthew, " I revealed my 'girlfriend' was Matthew."
Mike, then, described what had to happen to get Matthew to accept.  Mike described his design skills as good, but Matthew was far above whomever was considered #2.  In essence, he told Matthew if he would join Linotype, Mike who had been both designing and serving as Director of Typographic Development would no longer design, at all.  Matthew would be able to choose the assignments he wanted.  And, as Mike wrapped this story up, he kept his word about not designing typefaces until just three years ago, Based on the Times 54 design of Mike's Times Roman protagonist Starling Burgess, Mike designed 'Starling' which is sold by the Font Bureau.  Mike had brochures of Starling at the door for distribution. He then Thanked Everyone and Sat down.  He pulled it off in fine fashion.  We were surprised and delighted for him.  Mike's last appearance at a Typography function ended on a HIGH NOTE.