Bex started “school” today. It’s really a very cool arrangement. For a set fee, there is a tutor on site in the conference room at the Oakwood Apartments, Monday – Friday from 9:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m. The Studio school guarantees a maximum of a 5:1 ratio, and they will bring in special tutors for subject areas, as needed. So we met with Joanne, and Bex finished up the last of her Science Olympiad class from Short Term – which there was absolutely not a moment to do last week! – and we started to settle into a routine.
Bex came home and reported that the little kid in the room has ADHD (which I figured after watching him for about 2 minutes) and the tutor has no idea how to manage it. So – you’ll love this – Bex offered to give her some pointers about how to help him. I love this kid! In any event, she’s feeling clear and confident, and that’s a great way to start the next semester tomorrow.
Tonight Bex went to class, and I drove over to Beverly Hills for a very LA evening. First, I circled a tiny parking lot with an attendant on duty, in a mini-strip mall, where the oversized Mercedes and SUVs took the compact parking spots, waiting for a parking space – still the easiest parking at 5:30 in Beverly Hills. The attendant eventually stewarded me into a 15 min only parking spot, greasing the sides of Mama Jett so I could squeeze into this tiny space between two white cars (you know, where red paint can really be visible!)
About an hour later, through the coffee shop window, I saw the attendant walking away, and I took it as a sign that it was time to move on, just in case. So I drove to the classic Saban Theater on Wilshire Blvd, where every Monday evening Marianne Williamson teaches a class from the Course of Miracles. It was a wild adventure: part cult, part Christian tent revival, and part New Age support group. I sat near a woman who was an unbelievable piece of work – perfectly put together with fabulous Salt and Pepper hair, a Red sweater on and her decorative shawl draped to prevent anyone from sitting right next to her, perfect lipstick, looking somehow both nearly natural and well coiffed. I later learned that she is an “Image Therapist” – a title and career of her own creation. Hmmmm… To my right were others, engaging in conversation as the room slowly began to fill, including an Energy Worker from Atlanta, visiting her son in LA, who happens to know Diane. Go figure!
I don’t think I’d go back again to that particular course – one evening of a nice Jewish girl talking about the Christ within was enough – but I was thrilled to be there, to hear a wonderfully intelligent lecture, and to be surrounded by others who were engaged and stretching themselves to follow her heady philosophical discourse.
That kind of evening is hard to find in Atlanta, for sure!