Chapter 29: Opening Night and Synod

Hospital Visits

Late January, 2001

On Monday night, my mother called to say that my father was out of the operating room, and in the ICU until he had stabilized enough to be moved to one of the regular rooms. Apparently, the operation had gone smoothly, they had to use an artificial valve to replace his mitral valve, the surrounding heart muscle was too enlarged to allow the existing valve to be repaired in situ. He should be well enough for us to visit tomorrow evening, and we said we would be there around 7:00 pm, and I told her to give him our love. She seemed to be holding up well, my sister and David were there to keep her company.

The fallout from the weekend’s Federal election was to be as expected, the Murdoch press blamed ‘the left-wing media, particularly the ABC’ for waging a constant campaign against the Liberal party. Most people felt that it would take quite a few years for the Liberals to recover, considering most of their senior members had lost their seats. One name that was being floated as a potential leader was Scott Morrison – ‘Scotty from Marketing’ was the latest nickname, given his previous role as head of the Australian Tourism Commission. If that was the best the Liberals could do, then heaven help them. Paul Keating was already putting together his cabinet, as expected, Anthony Albanese was tapped for the Minister for Employment and Training. There was already talk about a major ‘housing and affordability summit’, it would be interesting to see what might come from that, and whether there would need to be some changes in how we – that is, the Ramos brothers and myself – approached our redevelopment projects.

The next evening the four of us drove up to Wahroonga and found the building where my father’s room was. He was looking pale and weak but sounded upbeat and positive about his recovery and future. We didn’t stay all that long, since he was quite tired, and we didn’t want to wear him out. My mother walked out with us, and she thanked us for taking the time to come and see him.

“I could see him really perk up when I told him you were coming tonight,” she said. “When he came out from the surgery, he was pretty down, I think having the breathing tube in his throat, and the pain across his chest from where they had to crack his breastbone. Will you be coming tomorrow night?”

“We will, maybe we will stay a bit longer if he’s up to it,” I said. “We don’t want to tire him out, he looks like he’s been through a lot.”

“We won’t be able to come on Thursday or Friday nights,” Megan said. “Thursday is choir rehearsal and is Friday the opening night for ‘Forty Second Street’, she said.

“I hope that goes well,” my mother said. “Good luck ... or because it is a theatrical show, shouldn’t I say, ‘break a leg’?”

“Either way, it’s the thought that counts,” Megan replied. “I’ll see about getting some tickets for you, once John is home and able to get to the theatre.”

“We would love that, although it will probably be at least four weeks or more before he’s able to get out and about,” my mother said. “See you all tomorrow night, kids.”

On the drive back home, we talked about how my father appeared.

“He looked better than I thought he would have been,” Michelle said. “Open heart surgery is pretty rough.”

“Yeah, I think he will be in hospital for at least another week, and then there’s two months at home, getting his strength back,” I said. “Then rehab afterwards, working to get the heart working.”

“I guess you have all that to look forward to, Will,” Lori said. “Whenever you go for your heart operation, we need to make sure that all three of us are allowed to be with you, making sure you are looked after properly.”

“When it’s time for me to have my operation, one of the considerations will be making sure all three of you can be with me, while I am recovering,” I said. “There’s not an issue for my mother being there with my father, or my sister or me ... Since we are immediate family, that’s not an issue. I think my father made some arrangements for the three of you to be able to visit, too; in the first week they restrict visitors, so as not to overwhelm the patient.”

“It’s all so complicated, the fact that society doesn’t want to recognize what we’ve got, because it’s not ‘normal’ or ‘acceptable’,” Lori said. “I think that some hospitals are moving to a system where each patient provides a list of people who are allowed to visit them, it’s not restricted to immediate family, because there are some people who have close friends – not necessarily romantic partners – but friends who they want to be told their health status, and to see them in hospital.”

“That seems to be a far more sensible approach,” I said. “I can imagine some people may very well NOT want family members visiting them in hospital.”

“At least there’s a few years before you’ll be going through that, Will,” Megan said. “Who knows what changes might have been made in that time.”

The next night we were up at the hospital again, my father seemed to be a little better than he had been the evening before. Apparently tomorrow, he would be able to get up and try walking – under strict supervision and assistance from the nurses, of course – and they would see about helping him to have a shower.

“The thing that really gets me is the pain from my breastbone,” he said. “They’ve given me this heart-shaped pillow, and if I have to cough, I am meant to put it against my chest and fold my arms across it, to help take the strain. I also have this torture device – an ‘incentive spirometer’ – that I have to use every hour to strengthen my lungs. I have to take ten really deep breaths, getting the little piston up to 1,000 – whatever that measures, I don’t know – so my lungs can open up again.”

“I have to keep reminding him to use it,” my mother said. “He says that when he takes a deep breath in, his chest hurts from where they had to break the bones. But that’s the only way his lungs will expand and get back to normal; they have to squeeze all of the air out of them as part of the open-heart surgery.”

“That’s sounds like it was a pretty brutal operation,” Michelle said. “I’m glad I was completely out of it when I had my hysterectomy!”

“I know what you mean, Michelle,” my mother said. “I had one, about six years ago; they just put me out with the anaesthetic, and I woke up a few hours later with a big scar across my abdomen, and that was it.”

According to his nurse, my father was progressing well, his vital signs were encouraging, and tomorrow they would remove the two wires protruding from his chest that were there attached to his heart, in case they needed to use a defibrillator for any reason. After about thirty minutes, my father said he was feeling tired, and we dimmed the lights in the room so he could sleep; we went outside in one of the family sitting rooms. I asked my mother how she was holding up.

“It’s very stressful, I know John’s in good hands, the doctors and nurses are all very good and caring, but it’s been such a strain on his body,” she said. “Having your sister here during the day has been a huge help, that gives me time to get outside and get some fresh air while she sits with him. I’m not saying that to try to make you feel guilty, I know you can’t get away from work at the moment, he’s so happy to see all of you each evening.”

“We will try to get over sometime on Saturday, all going well,” I said. “I’ll call tomorrow evening and see how everything is going.”

“Okay, Will, that would be good,” she said. “Thanks for coming, kids, drive home safely.”

We drove back home; I had mixed emotions, I was happy that my father seemed to be improving, but worried that he was still getting tired very quickly. As Lori said, he had been through major surgery, and it takes the body some time to recover from the trauma of invasive surgery like he had. I wished that it was possible for me to get over to the hospital during the day to see him before he got too tired, but that wasn’t going to possible during the week when I was at work.

Thursday night Megan was at the final dress rehearsal, while I went up to the church for the choir rehearsal. Before I went up, I spoke to my father, he was feeling quite upbeat, since he had been able to get up and walk around his hospital room, before two of the nurses helped him have a hot shower. The shower was very refreshing, he said, and made him feel relatively human again. Tomorrow there would be more physical therapy, all aimed at getting him to use his muscles, do some deep breathing, and making his heart work again.

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” I said to him, knowing that he liked to overachieve; if they told him to walk two lengths of the hallway, he would to three lengths, just to do more than was required.

He assured me he wouldn’t try to do too much, only doing what the nurses told him to do. He said that his doctor had been around earlier today, and was happy with how things were progressing, his lung function was improving, and they would be doing an echocardiogram tomorrow, just to see how well the new valve was doing.

“Well, that’s the whole purpose of the operation, I guess,” I said. “The new valve should be pumping without any leaking, otherwise, what was the point, you aren’t any better off.

“That’s true, from what he could tell by just listening to my heart, he said it sounded good, but the echo will confirm just how well the new valve is performing,” he said.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, just before dinner, to see what they said,” I told him. “We are off to the opening night of ‘Forty-Second Street’, Megan is at the final dress rehearsal for it tonight.”

“Your mother and I are looking forward to seeing that,” he said. “As soon as I’m able to get up and around, we’ll be there.”

“Okay, talk tomorrow,” I said. “Keep on recovering, without overdoing things.”

During the choir rehearsal, my mind wasn’t really on the rehearsing, I was worried about my father, hoping his replacement heart valve was working correctly, and that he wouldn’t overdo the physical therapy. Despite that, I felt we were ready for Sunday’s service, at least Megan would be there on Sunday morning to lead us; while I was okay with running the rehearsal, I didn’t really have the ability to lead the singing, directing all the different vocal parts.

Opening Night

January 25^th, , 2001

“Has anyone seen my gold cuff links?” I called out from the closet. “They aren’t where they normally are!”

“Have you looked in the top drawer of your dresser?” Michelle called back. “Look in that little wooden box.”

They were where Michelle said they should be; I got them from the little box and attached them to the cuffs of my formal shirt. I was wearing my dinner suit for the opening night, the next task was to tie the bow tie, and then I would be ready. I was smart enough not to ask Michelle or Lori when they would be ready to leave; the more I asked them if they were ready, the longer it would take them to be ready. We still had plenty of time before we had to leave to get to the theatre before the show was scheduled to start.

About twenty minutes later, both Michelle and Lori came downstairs, they looked absolutely stunning. They each had on long gowns, with the necklaces that I had given them for Christmas, their hair had been done, and they had makeup on, they were absolutely beautiful.

“Wow!” I said, just staring at them.

“Close your mouth, Will, before your tongue falls out!” Lori said. “Shall we go?”

We headed up to the garage, I opened the doors for each of them, Michelle got in the front passenger seat, while Lori got in behind her; I backed out of the garage, and drove across to the theatre in Ultimo, parking in the parking garage opposite the theatre. We walked into the lobby, showing our VIP passes, getting glasses of champagne before walking into the main part of the theatre, and finding our seats. We were seated just behind where the orchestra was located; we saw Megan standing there, and I gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“You are looking rather debonaire,” Megan said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you dressed up like that!”

“And you are looking rather stunning yourself,” I said. “I called my father a bit earlier, he’s doing well today, did some more walking up and down the corridor. They did an echocardiogram, the new valve is performing very well, no sign of any blood regurgitation, which is good.”

“That’s fantastic news, do you think we might have time to make a quick visit tomorrow morning? Provided I am back here by 1:30, that will be fine.”

“Assuming we can make a move around 10:00, we can do it,” I said.

I had a quick look at the main sound control board, and spoke to the engineer running the system, telling him how complicated it looked.

“Well, it’s not as bad as it looks, it’s all computer controlled,” he said. “Everything is pre-programmed, all I have to do is monitor it, and make any minor adjustments on the fly. One advantage of a fully digital system, equalization, effects, all of that are programmed into the controller.”

“A far cry from what I used when I started playing professionally, I think we had a small eight-channel mixer, feeding two forty-watt speakers,” I said.

“Still, I guess that did the job, and that’s what is important,” he said.

“Well, I’ll let you get on with your job, thanks for letting me see everything,” I said.

I moved back to my seat, between Lori and Michelle, they both held one of my hands each. We had an excellent view of the stage, right in the centre, and a clear view over the orchestra pit. After a few minutes the house lights were dimmed, and the curtain opened slowly, revealing the feet, and then the legs of the dancers, for the opening number. The sound was excellent, and I could easily see Megan directing the orchestra. The dancing was full of energy, they were perfectly synchronized, the costumes looked great. After the opening number, the stage cleared, and it was into ‘Forty-Second Street’, with the bulk of the cast entering from the aisles before getting onto the stage. It was stunning, I was particularly impressed by the music, and the sound quality. I was amazed that they could do such energetic dancing, and still be able to sing, there was no way I could even attempt that! Then ‘Peggy Sawyer’ entered, and she and ‘Billy’ did their number, ‘I’m young and healthy’. They had followed my suggestions on tempo and pitch, it sounded very good. In fact, the whole first half of the show was excellent, Megan had done a great job with the musical direction.

During the intermission we stood out in the lobby and helped ourselves to the complimentary champagne. We saw Megan, went over to her, and told her how fantastic everything sounded.

“I was amazed watching you lead the orchestra,” Michelle said.

“That’s good,” she said. “I was so nervous before the start; I was worried that I would not be able to conduct like I had before, I was a bit out of practice. That was despite all the rehearsing, there’s so much pressure when it’s an actual performance, the lights go down, as the curtain started to go up, I could feel my pulse racing.”

“You did a pretty good job,” I said. “I was watching you at various times, the way you directed the different sections of the orchestra, it was great to watch.”

“We should call you ‘Maestro’ now,” Michelle said.

“Noooo!” she exclaimed. “That’s the same as Will not wanting people to call him ‘Professor’!”

“Whatever, the point is, you’ve been doing a fantastic job with conducting the music, Megan,” I said. “I’ve really enjoyed the first half, and I’m looking forward to the rest of the show.”

“Excuse me, may I take your photos?” a women asked us. “I’m Susan O’Connor, from the Sydney Morning Herald, I’m taking photos for the social pages in this coming Sunday’s Sun-Herald.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Megan said to her.

We lined up for a photo, my arm around Megan, with Lori next to her; Michelle was on my other side, and I put an arm around her waist, too.

“It’s Will Morris, I recognize you from when you were in that rock band,” she said. “You and Megan performed together, back in the later 1970s. Can I get the names of the rest of you, please?”

“Lori Earle,” Lori said.

“Michelle Jones,” Michelle replied.

Susan took several photos; I guess she would pick the best for publication.

“Thank you, the music is fantastic, Megan, by the way,” she said, before moving on.

“I guess we’ll be in the society pages,” Michelle said. “We’re famous!”

Megan left to get ready for the second part of the performance, and as I was walking with the other two towards the doors, I heard someone call out my name.

“Will Morris! Fancy seeing you here!”

I turned around to see Malcolm Turnbull, and his wife Lucy; I wasn’t surprised to see them at the opening night performance.

“Malcolm! Lucy, good to see the two of you,” I said, shaking his hand. “Are you enjoying the show?”

“Yes, it’s fantastic,” he said. “I assume you are somehow involved in the musical side?”

“Only through association,” I said. “Megan Winters, the musical director, is an old colleague of mine, we performed together back in the late 1970s, and we still work together. She had asked me to sit in on some of the early rehearsals, to give my thoughts on how things were sounding.”

“Well, I don’t know what your advice might have been, but it sounds terrific. On another subject, I hadn’t realized you had left WTM, and were back at your university job,” he said. “I called to speak with you the other day, I had a business proposal that I thought your company might be interested in; I ended up speaking with Mary Beth Murphy about it, it looks like we – that is, WorldCom, who now owns what use to be Ozemail – and WTM might combine to provide ISP services to a range of small and medium sized businesses. A shame you’re not there anymore, I was hoping to get your involvement and thoughts on the proposal.”

“That’s interesting, I’m sure Mary Beth will give you a fair hearing,” I said. “My time away from the hallowed halls of academia finally came to an end, I have been recalled to run the School of Computer Science Engineering at UNSW. There’s a bunch of challenges facing me, that’s why I also took Michelle Jones, who you probably remember from WTM, as my executive officer.”

“Well, congratulations, I’m sure you will do a great job there,” he said. “Give me a call, I’m back at Worldcom full time now, here’s my card...”

I took his card, and gave him one of mine, and suggested that he give me a call around the middle of next week.

“Enjoy the remainder of the show, it was great to see both of you,” I said, as we continued into the theatre.

“What was that all about?” Michelle asked me. “I wonder what his proposal is?”

“Well, I can only assume that now he’s out of his job in Parliament, he’s back at his old company, Ozemail – they got purchased by Worldcom, around the same time we picked up part of their UUNet operation last year,” I said. “I think they are trying to work out how to get into the small / medium size enterprise customers to expand their ISP services. They have probably realized that trying to service home customers isn’t worth it, there isn’t the margins there, and the support overhead is crippling. We – that is, WTM – worked out how to best support small and medium sized businesses with our ‘internet in a box’ and VPN offerings, and I’m sure he – and Worldcom – wants a piece of the action. I’m sure Mary Beth is aware of just how untrustworthy Worldcom is, they are doing some pretty dodgy things – accounting and tax law wise – in the US, and I think we would be smart to keep away from them.”

“You don’t think it’s an area where WTM could expand into?” Lori asked.

“Back last year, we looked into everything that UUNet was doing – and Ozemail as well – Michelle said. “The consumer level stuff that was Ozemail’s bread and butter was very low margin stuff, with a very high support load; it wasn’t a good fit for the way we did our business. Mary Beth and I felt that it wouldn’t be worth trying to integrate that into what we did. The UUNet work, on the other hand, was more in line with how we operated, the same client base, we could really combine their work with ours, and gain a lot. They – Ozemail - are realizing that they can’t really grow their existing business, not without a major injection of capital – which is hard to get these days. A lot of the ‘dot com’ businesses are close to going belly up, they overextended themselves in the boom times, and now ... well the business growth that they thought would keep happening is drying up, investors are wanting to see some positive returns, and are starting to ask very pointed questions.

“WTM is in a pretty sound position,” I continued. “A diverse customer base spread over a range of industry sectors, strong cash flow, minimal debt. There are real, tangible assets, products that people want to buy, no ‘pie in the sky’ promises of how fantastic the business will be once things take off. All a result of a conservative approach, making sure we know what we are getting into, making sure the financials make sense. I suspect what Turnbull is pushing is something that will probably go bust in a year or two.”

“I bet you’re glad you don’t have to worry about those things anymore,” Lori said.

“True, but it’s my name on the company door,” I said. “I am still concerned about the ongoing success of the company, because so many people – people I care about, good friends of mine – depend on the company remaining in business, remaining profitable. I don’t want to see things fail and those people ending up out of a job.”

“I’m sure my sister has everything under control, she’s probably the best person you could have found to run your company,” Lori said. “That’s interesting what you say about Worldcom, I’ll check on some of my sources back in the States, some of the business and technology reporters, see what they know.”

We took our seats, just as the main lights started to lower, the second half of the show was about to start. I was watching Megan, seeing how she directed each section of the orchestra, she seemed to have a ‘secret code’ of gestures and signs that she would give specific musicians, when they were to play louder, or softer.

“Does she have everyone’s part on that music in front of her?” Michelle whispered to me. “That must be so difficult to follow.”

“That’s why she so good at what she does,” I said. “She’s been doing that for a long time, it’s just one of those skills that she has developed.”

The second half of the show was just as good as the first half, and the finale was very impressive, at the end of the show, the standing ovation lasted for over two minutes. Each of the main characters were introduced to the audience, then some of the production staff, including Megan.

We stood around waiting for Megan at the end of the show, eventually she came out from the orchestra pit, and asked if we would come with her to the cast party, at the Covent Garden Hotel, in Haymarket. It was only a few blocks away, just a ten-minute walk, so we all headed down to the pub.

“Honestly, how do you think it went?” Megan asked us.

“Honestly? It was absolutely fantastic,” I said. “I couldn’t find a single fault with it, everything was great.”

“The singing, the music, the dancing, the sound quality, it was all first class,” Lori said. “I know what makes for a great audio production, the guys on the sound desk didn’t miss a single thing. Everything was clear, there was the right balance between singing and music, the equalization was spot on.”

“How they can dance and sing at the same time is beyond me,” Michelle said.

“Chalk up another successful show, Megan,” I said. “Very well done, I am proud of you, I was very impressed.”

“Well, we will see what the reviews say, and maybe the season will be extended,” Megan said. “Ticket sales have been strong, so far, which is a good sign.”

We arrived at the pub, a few people were there already, some of the production crew, the sound engineer, and the guys from the lighting console. Everyone seemed to be pretty pumped up, I knew that feeling after a great performance. After a little while some of the cast members started to come in, the person who played ‘Billy’ came over to me and shook my hand.

“Thank you so much for when you came during our rehearsals, those suggestions really made things a lot better,” he said. “You made me listen to some of those older singers – Sinatra, Tony Bennett, guys like that – and to analyse how they sang songs. I learned a lot from listening to them, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, when I was starting out, I was given lots of advice from some of the real experts, people with stacks of experience, musicians that I admired,” I said. “I’m just paying things back, just doing what others had done for me. I think you did a great job tonight, you sang and danced really well.”

“Thank you, we rehearsed really hard – that Megan Winters, she’s a slave driver! Although I guess you know that, didn’t you and her perform together back in the 1970s?”

“Yes, and she really helped me, teaching me how to find the emotion in a song, and how to express that in my singing. She really knows her stuff.”

“I’ve done a few stage musicals; this was probably the biggest role I’ve had, but she’s been the best music director by far, she’s great to work with.”

Sally – the young woman who played the role of the ingenue Peggy Sawyer and had put moves on me during the rehearsal – came over to us.

“So, Will, are you still interested in doing some more rehearsing with me?” she asked. “I’m sure you’ll find me healthy enough for you, if you get my drift.”

“I don’t think so, Sally,” I said. “I would hate to see my current partners have to beat you to a pulp.”

Lori heard my comment, and almost choked on her drink; Michelle turned to her and said, “do you think the two of us could take her?”

Sally took the message, and headed off, making some derogatory sound, and flicking her hair.

“I don’t think that she’s had a guy turn her down before,” ‘Billy’ said. “She thinks she’s something special, some sort of hot stuff. She’s not my type ... I’m not into vaginas.”

“And I’m not into skanks,” I said, causing both Lori and Michelle to burst out laughing.

“That was a big unkind, Will,” Lori said. “Just because she’s generous with her ... um, her charms, doesn’t make her a skank.”

“No, but the fact that she still put her moves on my while I was clearly with my partners makes her a skank,” I said. “Why would I want to jeopardise what I have just for some potentially fun times with her? I do have some taste!”

“She would be pretty flexible, all that dancing,” Lori said.

“And what good would all that flexibility be for me?” I said. “I’m still the same middle-aged guy, with body aches and all that.”

“You are flexible enough for us,” Megan said. “I’m sorry about Sally’s behaviour, I’ll have to speak with her tomorrow, that’s not acceptable behaviour from someone in the cast. She should have known that you and I, at least, are a couple.”

We continued to celebrate with Megan, talking with other members of the case and production, until we felt it was acceptable to head off home. I congratulated people, telling them just how much I loved the show. We walked back to where I had parked the car, and we drove back home. Time to get undressed, have a quick shower, and get to bed.

Friday, being the Australia Day holiday, we could all sleep in, and we didn’t surface until close to 11:00. Breakfast / lunch was a cooked meal, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, home fries, and toast. We discussed the previous night’s show, just how good it was, I was amazed at how the cast could sing while doing some very energetic dancing.

“You have to admit, the storyline is pretty corny,” Lori said. “But it was a lot of fun, everyone involved is very talented. So, Megan, this will be your life for the next four weeks?”

“Yes, maybe even longer if our season gets extended,” she said. “The cast – at least the main characters – all have understudies, so on Saturdays, when there are two performances, they swap our some of the main cast for their understudies, just so they keep on top of the songs and dances.”

“Do you have a substitute?” I asked her.

“There is an assistant musical director, he can stand in if I can’t make a performance for any reason,” she said. “Today, I will have to be there at 3:30, we are having a post-mortem of how last night’s performance went, any issues that we need to address, what might have gone wrong, what wasn’t up to an acceptable standard.”

“I didn’t think anything went wrong,” Michelle said. “It all sounded so good!”

“There were a couple of parts where musicians missed their cue, or were late coming in, and other parts where the sound balance was off,” Megan replied. “Nothing all that major, just some little things; I suspect I was probably the only person who noticed, but, still, we need things to be faultless.”