Recently I wrote to the Chief Financial Officer and I thanked him for such an incredibly thoughtful gesture. I suggested that perhaps I could be an “ambassador” for Absa. He put his Head of Marketing in touch with me who said that they were working on one or two ideas and would be in touch shortly. Soon afterwards, I received an e-mail saying that Absa would like to send down three people to George to meet me and discuss a future project.
I was most intrigued.

They flew down to George and met me at my flat. A lovely, sparkling woman named Lauren, a wise, smiling and I was to discover gently, perceptive man, Hennie, and Wayne with his mop of curly hair and amused eyes that missed nothing. They took me out to lunch where we simply got to know a bit about one another. The next day, Hennie and Wayne came to my apartment and literally grilled me. Question after question about every aspect of my life. And no, I didn’t discuss my sexual proclivities with them but everything else! Eventually Wayne said that Absa would love to work with me and make a film which would be shown on their website and YouTube. They would discuss everything they had learnt about me and come up with a scenario to film. They would send it to me for my approval.

I said goodbye with a light heart. I would really enjoy working with them!

A week later, their proposal arrived. They wanted me to go back to The State Theatre and perform a poem on the Opera Stage. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. I read it once more. Yes, that was exactly what they wanted!

I began to shake as the tears started flooding my eyes. How could they expect me to return to that nightmare of a place? It was there that I had fallen eighteen metres offstage onto concrete below. It was at The State Theatre that my life as I knew it, was stripped from me completely. It was in that place that Gaynor the actress had been killed. I had lost my ability to hear, sixty percent of my eyesight, my singing voice had not even waved as it disappeared forever. I had been given the unwelcome spasticity on my right hand side, a disgusting limp and a mind that was no longer able to memorise lines. And they wanted me to to return to that stage and perform there. The only thing I felt I would be able to do on that Opera Stage was curl into a little ball and howl. Wolf howls, long and loud.

Shirley Johnston, the editor of my book My Plunge to Fame is a close friend and mentor. I sent her their letter and added my helpless fear which was now tinged with outrage. I didn’t get back the comforting reply I had anticipated.

Gaye, you will do it! I know you can and you will. You – who have been to hell and have come back to inspire others.
It will be confronting your worst fear, I am so aware of that. I believe that if you confront it, you will conquer it. I KNOW you will be just fine, especially with your strong faith to guide you and give you strength.

I think it will be so moving if you do the e.e.cummings poem, the one you recited at your 30th birthday – just after your accident. And the sentiment behind it is so uplifting and so positive and so apt for you, Gaynor, who should be bewailing your fate and cursing every day – and yet you continue to thank God for each amazing day in your new life since it changed so drastically.

Gaye, look at it as a gift you will be able to give to countless others. Those who are afraid to confront their own worst fears, those whose lives have been shattered and who are trying to find their own strength. I believe it is your destiny to help others who have had a raw deal. You have always inspired, you have never let anything crush your indomitable spirit. You will be standing on a stage which is merely a wooden floor. It is a place you have always loved to be. You will, I am sure, be able to put your mind into another space.This will merely be a building, a stage…..
I just wish I could be there! I unreservedly recommend you should go for it, girl!!!

Glory be, Shirley was certainly not saying anything I had expected. She was saying that I should go back. Back to that hell hole! I re-read what she had written. Inspirational, she called me. I don’t want to be inspirational. I want to be normal. Ah, but that normality was done away with during that State Theatre performance. Like it or not, I had become an inspiration to people. And here was this ‘Inspirational person’ not facing up to a fear that she had been carrying around for twenty-five years.

In my motivational talks, I speak of facing up to one’s fears. About not carrying around unnecessary baggage. Only then is one truly free. An enormous boulder of fear had been twined around my neck for twenty-five years. Fear of The State Theatre and everything it represented to me. It was a boulder that I was able to sling out of everyone’s sight so that no one was aware of it’s presence. No one except for me.
What a hypocrite I was! The ironic thing was that it was causing no one harm. Except me. How can one move freely with a boulder around one’s neck? It constantly bangs into things causing you to flinch from ricocheting pain.

One thing leaped out of Shirley’s letter at me: “…especially with your strong faith to guide you and give you strength.”
I took a deep breath. And then another. Of course. I had God with me. I often didn’t understand His plan but He never let me down. He was always there. I got the impression that He was wanting me to go back. He knew that I had unfinished business at The State Theatre.
Thank you, sweet Shirley, for that gentle reminder.

With a sigh I picked up my I-Pad and wrote:

Hi there, Hennie and Wayne!
With trepidation I say: Okay, let’s go for it! If I see the stage and a feeling of unease and a dawning of fear engulf me, could we then change to the other theatre within the venue?
I look so forward to working together. We can make a film that can be looked upon as a gift to people who are afraid to confront their worst fears. Those whose lives have been shaken and are searching for the strength to continue, will be encouraged by the film we will make.
With a big smile I kiss your eyes
Gaynor

And so, it was back to The State Theatre. I felt hollow inside. Goodness knows what it would hold for me this time.
‘Lord, please stay close,’ I begged.

The post Getting into a State!!! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

“Misty, water coloured memories of the way we were…..”    

      Memories.

      That is how a person lives on once they have left this world. Joan Brickhill died on the 15th January 2014. She led a life that formed so many memories in masses of people’s lives. She is dead. But what does that word really mean? That she is no longer here? She is. She still lives in masses of people’s memory. And that is what was so unique about Joan.

       I was part of the cast of Cinderella.  One Sunday, on our day off, we went to a cast members house which led directly onto the beach. There we had a gorgeous braai. (Barbeque as overseas  people will know it!) It was a lovely get together. Joan Brickhill had joined us that day. She was older than all of us there but she had the ability to transcend age. She was able to be as silly as the rest of us!

       I remember us all going for a walk along the beach that evening. It was a grey and windy. I had a windbreaker on and had put my hands deep into the pockets and was simply walking, my toes crunching in the sand. People moved in twos, threes or simply by themselves . I was walking on my own, enjoying the feel of the wind in my hair and I was singing….You could hardly wait to keep our date this lovely Easter morning….Then a  lovely, rich voice from beside me joined in…but my heart beat fast as you came to the door for…..

       It was Joan. I laughed and we continued together….In your Easter bonnet with all the frills upon it, you’ll be the grandest person at the Easter Parade, I’ll be all in clover and when they look us over, you’ll be the grandest person at The Easter Parade…

       With my accident so many memories were killed off, extinguished forever. But this memory has remained. I am so glad that I have that memory of Joan and me walking along a windy beach in the Durban twilight, singing together.

       I had my accident and the next time I saw Joan was in court defending me. This was before my Cochlear Implants and I was unable to hear what she was saying. But I saw that beautiful figure, dressed in pink, facing that awful prosecutor with a calm and resolute air. Mum and Dad told me that she had come down hard on the State Theatre/PACT stating that the stage was lethal to anyone without a dress or tech rehearsal. I had had neither.

       I remember appearing in a show with Joan. Ian Von Memerty put on a show to raise money for The Actors Benevolent Fund. The whole cast got together in the morning for a rehearsal. We were performing that night. I went over my bit and then sat in front and observed the goings on.

      I love watching rehearsals. Ian and Joan Brickhill rehearsed their number. Joan had had 2 hip operations so was fairly frail. As a result they did their numbers sitting on two chairs – a tap routine deluxe! Hell, Joan was a marvellous performer!

      That night I shared a dressing room with Joan. What a hoot that evening was. The theatre stories Joan had to tell! It was great because most of the cast congregated there when they were not onstage.

      After having finished my performance, I then went to the front of house where I could see everything happening onstage. Mark Banks, a stand up comic, came onstage holding one of the programs. He read bits and commented. How I wished that I could hear. The audience were crying they were laughing so much. Later in the dressing room I asked him what he had been saying.  Joan interrupted: “He was tearing me to shreds!”

      “Had you prepared what you were going to say?” I asked him.

      No, he hadn’t. Glory be! Imagine being that quick with your humour. Incredible!

      I looked across at Joan who had finished her performance. She had a bottle of vodka open and was calmly sitting drinking vodka and apple juice. I joined her! Then when she offered me another I very firmly said no. “We have still got our curtain call, Joan. You could get away with a drunken stumble because of your hips but I couldn’t. Although with my brain damage…hmmnnn…..?”

      I didn’t have another.

      The evening was a resounding success. A standing ovation.

      Now Joan Brickhill, the woman who could walk down a theatre staircase like none other is dead. Ashleigh Sendin who played the title role in Brickhill’s production of Annie says: “She had so much room in her heart for so many.”

      That remark says it all. Joan leaves a void that will not easily be filled.

      Memory is a preserver of life. It keeps people alive.

      But…I will miss her.

 

The post Just Joan! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

Before my accident Elzabe Zietsman and I put on a cabaret in which we sang and performed short sketches. In one, I told the audience a true story about me and Tobin Shostakovich. Great name, huh? Tobin Shostakovich! But he was known as Toby or Tobe. If I had had my way, he would definitely have remained Tobin. Admit that has a far more romantic nuance to it!

I was ten years old and Tobin Shostakovich was twelve. He was our neighbour and what a neighbour! Toby was already starting to broaden out in all the right places.  He was tanned this golden brown and his voice was starting to break. That was something I, at the advanced age of 10, found tremendously attractive.

We were sitting round the side of our house, well out of the way of any prying adult eyes. Tobe turned to me and said in a very nonchalant manner: “Hey…do you want to smooch?”

The Gobstopper that I was sucking was just about swallowed whole. “Smooch?” I squeaked.

“Yeah, you know…..do ya..er…want to smooch?” he repeated.

I did know! I had seen people smooching in movies and it looked…it actually looked…cool! The womens lips always looked full and succulent. Certainly not stained by Gobstoppers! I took mine out and threw it into a nearby bush.  “Okay, let’s…let’s smooch!” I finished a little breathlessly. After all this was a totally new experience for me. I had never been smooched before! We were sitting opposite each other and Toby attempted to put his arms around me.

“Move a little closer to me,” he said. I did so and licked my lips attempting to get them full and succulent. “No, come closer still!”

Why didn’t he move? I thought as I edged closer. I shut my eyes, anticipating his “smooch.”

“A bit closer,” he croaked. My excitement must have been intense for as I eagerly moved forward so I let out this enormous…FART! Toby moved pretty quickly then. He jumped to his feet and took several steps backwards. “Ahhh, sheesh…!” was his response.

And that was the last time anyone attempted to “smooch”  me until I was sixteen!

As you can imagine, the audience simply rocked with laughter at my “smooching” tale.

Time moves on and in July 2010, my sister, Liz, was renovating her flat. She had decided to put in beautiful sash windows in the lounge. She had looked in The Yellow Pages and found the number of someone who would give her a quote. She was measuring things when the car pulled up. I went outside to greet the “window” man. A good looking guy got out the car.

“Hi, I’m Gaynor Young, Liz’s sister,” I said my arm outstretched to shake his.

A big grin spread across his features. “Gaynor Young,”   he said  beginning to laugh as he grasped my hand. “ I am…Tobin Shostakovich!”

My comprehension was slow. “Tobin….no, oh…no!” I cried also beginning to shake with laughter. Liz was standing just behind me and had cracked up as well.

“My secretary came to see your performance in 1987 and I never lived that story down in the office! Then you had your accident and I wanted to write to you but I wasn’t sure you’d remember Tobin Shostakovich”

“I have forgotten a lot since my accident but fortunately my experience with Tobin Shostakovich has remained crystal clear.”

“Do you know that three years after “our incident” I met the girl who I would ultimately marry. Who knows what we would have been to each other if it wasn’t for that…for that one hellishly loud fart!” he said cracking up once more.

He gave me his card and said that some time I must come have dinner with his wife and…Tobin Shostakovich!

Big smile.

Closure to my tale!

Disclaimer: To protect privacy some names in this story have been changed

The post First Kiss! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.