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Slow down, you move too fast

As Eliza Doolittle, Jessica Wagner, center, gives a powerhouse performance in “My Fair Lady” at the Forestburgh Playhouse.
TRR photos by Jonathan Charles Fox

June 25, 2014

Even though they say that “misery loves company,” I’m hopeful that most of you are not currently experiencing the kind of time-management angst that currently plagues me. I’m not even sure what my problem is, other than desiring to make hay while the sun shines. Here in the Upper Delaware River region, where each season determines how we live life, this seems to produce the tendency to want to seize the day, with the understanding that time is precious and we have limited hours to take advantage of sweet summer’s myriad opportunities, whether it be for business or pleasure. While I often acknowledge that I love what I do and how grateful I am to have those opportunities that come my way, lately I find that I’m not really savoring the moment, but rather keeping an eye on the time, concerned about how I’ll make the next appointment on my roster. The past week was a perfect (albeit unsettling) example of this notion and even as I write this, I’m frazzled.

I’m not looking for sympathy. No need for tiny violins to be played, since I hear them all the time. “Oh, you poor thing” has been said once or twice. “You have another concert to attend? Too many plays to see?” Comments from the proverbial peanut galley notwithstanding, my answer (truth be told) would be “yes,” and I’ll tell you why. I really wish I had more time to actually enjoy the ride. Oh, sure—on rare occasions, I stop, look and listen, but more often than not, instead of sitting back to be in the moment, I’m glancing at my watch, worrying that I don’t have the time to relax. “Like sands in the hourglass,” I think to myself as I take pictures and make notes, afraid that I won’t remember where I’ve been, much less where I’m going, as I jump into the truck and literally zoom off, checking my schedule, picturing Alice’s white rabbit in what’s left of my feeble brain. My desk is littered with notebooks and as I sort through them, it occurs to me that I would literally be lost without, since I’m frequently clueless as to where I’ve been. A quick glance serves as a reminder that last Thursday, I ran to the Forestburgh Playhouse ( to catch “My Fair Lady,” which is still playing. I loved it, and (if memory serves) I wrote a review the next morning, which can be read online at