A Tribute.

My dear friend and colleague passed away the other night.  I've been grieving and couldn't put words to my feelings.

His name was Frank Bayer.  He was more than a friend, he was my mentor.  I spent 20 plus years with him at the Taper (C.T.G.) in Los Angeles at the Music Center.  He looked out for me, he hired me and he protected and taught me all those years.  But after 2005, for reasons better left out of this blog, he returned to NYC.  All our lives were in upheaval that year.  All of us were left homeless, career-wise.  He took it all with good grace, prosaic always.

I remember we ate at California Pizza Kitchen constantly.  If it was just the two of us, we'd split a chinese chicken salad and some dumplings.  If Jimmie came with us, they'd split the Bolognese Pasta and we'd all share some dumplings.  (I'd eat the tequila fettucine.)  The three of us would always order the iced tea.  Jimmie would say, "No lemon, please."  Invariably his tea would come with a lemon wedge.  Jimmie would say..."OH! There is lemon in my tea!  I didn't ask for lemonade, I wanted TEA!  Don't just take it away and take out the lemon... pour me a new glass!"  Frank and I found this incredibly funny.  (Sorry Jimmie, but we did.)  Jimmie would then explain to us, each and every time why this was unacceptable.  Every time Frank and I went to CPK without Jimmie and we'd order our usual iced tea, we'd look at each other and say, "Oh, there is LEMON in my tea!" We'd laugh.  Silly, but it delighted us both so much.

I remember when Frank had just come off heart surgery and was a little weak.  We were doing BLADE TO THE HEAT.  I was Jimmie's assistant.  Frank and I reveled sitting onstage with all those beautiful men boxing.  Thanks, Oliver!  Thanks, Jimmie for calling that show so beautifully you made me HOT!
Frank thought that was incredibly funny, but understood.

Thank you Frank for telling me "this too shall pass."  You may have said it to me many times before, but the time it really took was on CIDER HOUSE RULES when I was so miserable backstage.  You stood up for me and helped me do the best work I could do in a show where I felt at a loss about how to help.

Thank you Frank, looking out for me all those years, assigning me to ANGELS and JELLY'S LAST JAM.  You had a confidence in me that I was later to develop for myself.  You gave me the really big shows.  Thank-you.

Oh, Frank, you cried with me.  When my husband was so sick with MS, and I was housebound taking care of him, you convinced me he could do without me for a couple of hours and threw me a dinner party, just to get me out of the house.  What a gift.  I don't know if I ever thanked you enough for that evening.  You served cold carrot soup.  New to me and so wonderful!

You made me laugh every time you had a cast party.  We'd be done at, oh, 10:45 or so, and arrive at your home around 11pm.  You'd throw everyone out at midnight.  "That's enough.  Go home."  Of course, I'd stay.. to clean up and visit.  But, you'd still, ultimately throw me out too.

I will never forget when I lost my assistant to another show... okay. it was Jimmie again... you took over and assisted ME!  It was Steven Wadsworth's Marivaux play.  You were the BEST assistant EVER!
We had so much fun!

I called you last week.  Someone answered the phone, a woman.  She said you were resting.  Oh, Frank, you were dying.  I will miss you for the rest of my life.

My dear friend.  You gave me my career.  You taught me how to keep it. You reminded me we are all gypsies and go where the work leads us. You had no pity when things went bad, instead reminded me that we are stage managers and we take care of the show at hand.

I'm crying.
How can you be gone?