Dear Breakfast Clubbers, Aug. 1, 2009

Gil and Jan Dorer
107 Willow Ct.
Chelsea, Mi. 48118
734 475 4300
734 649 0478 Gil’s cell
dorergj@aol.com it’s a J
Please use this email address. I don’t get them from the website the way I should.
These are the vital statistics for Dorer Studio and the two of us.

Thought I’d write on time for a change. People seem to like my stories so I’ve been thinking. When the kids were home and Jan and all were present and I said, “I’ve been thinking,” they would all moan for something weird was about to be said or happen. Thought you should be warned. Let me first say that life is progressing. I keep telling Jan and at our age it is either inner beauty or nothing. She just keeps on looking in the mirror and complaining. Talked to Cindy about taking the mirror in our bedroom off the wall but still there’s another in the bathroom not easily removed. I say don’t look at yourself for seeing you is only a problem for other people. She just doesn’t understand. Oh, well.

I’m thinking about a show in Springfield, IL. Back when I did a number of shows alone. Jan would put my costumes, as I called them, together in the suit case for easy on and off. I would get to the show tired and in the morning drowsiness I’d dress and go to set up the show or just do the showing if set up was the night before. I got to the show Saturday morning all ready for a big day. No rain, just nice weather. The day went well but I kept feeling a scratching on my leg behind and below the knee. Oh, well that’s just cheap pants, I thought. She had gone shopping and purchased some new costume items for me. The day went quite well and wasn’t too hot. Costume was ok but shirt needed to be changed so people would not notice I was wearing the same pants. Sunday went well also but that damn scratching on my leg continued I finally decided to see what the problem was. I finally found it. There was a price tag stapled to the pant leg in full visibility. No one had told me about it, neither friends nor customers, or anyone. Bet some felt sorry for the poor guy with new pants and didn’t know the tag needed to be removed. I called that night and told the story to the family. All had a ball and said, “That’s dad.” Now this is funny to me. Don’t know if you’d find it funny if it had happened to you but to me it’s hilarious.

Got one more. I guess I sound good on the phone. I had ideas for the Georgia Watercolor Society and called expressing my feelings on a couple subjects. Guess I impressed them a bit. I didn’t realize they needed workers, or officers, for struggling club. I was asked to accept the position of Vice President of the club. Now I thought that might be nice and that I could help. We lived in Kennesaw, north of Atlanta, and the first meeting was at nine in the morning in Macon. I got up. Dressed in the dark as not to disturb the Diva. Drove to the meeting and tried not to say too many stupid things the first meeting. We all sat around a long table. The meeting lasted about three hours, at least two hours longer than necessary. When we all got up the President, a lady, walked over and started talking to me. She looked down and had difficulty containing herself. I knew this for occasionally I’m somewhat in tune to others. She adjusted and we talked a little longer with me trying to sound profound. We separated and I looked down and discovered I had one black shoe and one brown shoe on the only two feet I had. Now this was the Georgia Watercolor Society. These people know something about color and that shoes are to be of the same. God, I was embarrassed. It was funny but that’s Gil. My position in the club seemed ridiculous and I slowly over the months faded from view. Some are so good at impressions and others are just who they are. My dad always said, “He does the best he can with what he’s got.” I love that statement for it is go accepting of all people even the stumble bums like me.

We have loved the “Les Miserables 10th anniversary concert at London’s Royal Albert Hall. It is so musical. Such great songs sung by the best in the world. The backup band is the London Phil. We listen to it about five or six times a year. Our VCR broke and son Bob bought a Chinese lifted DVD. It was not quality. I just bought the legitimate versions over the internet. We are not able to see this performance without tears. The magnificence of the artists just touches us so deeply. It renews our views that some people are so gifted but only become great through extraordinary effort with great success and painful failures along the way. Now this is not true only of artists of all kinds but all people who give their best to the world. Our friend Joe Scott was reared in Hamtramck, Michigan. It is a suburb of Detroit, mostly all inhabitants were Polish. Joe is afro American. As a child he aspired to become a fluent polish speaking garbage collector like his hero doing his best empting trash cans. The collector was admired for he was special having learned the language of the people. Joe had the opportunity to attend Central Michigan University. Got his doctorate from Indiana University and had a profound career helping others. Joe also did the best he could with what he’s got. Thankfully he was given the opportunity to polish his skills and become the so valuable to all. I do so hope Jan and I are someday considered successful in this respect.

Sincerely,

Gil