My Name Is Aldonza


I love the Man of La Mancha. Not that dreadful movie version: the stage musical. I have collected quotations all my adult life, and in that show, every few lines, there is a collector’s item.

Over at Miguel’s blog, which is excellent in every way except that he seldom posts, his last piece (far too long ago, so please update, Miguel dear) mentioned the fabulous Raul Julia, and the heartbreaking fact that we can never go home again.

I have long been a fan of Raul Julia, from Spider Woman to The Addams Family and in between, and Miguel’s beautiful and musical description of standing before the poster advertising Julia in Man of La Mancha, and having not enough money to see him in it, and then Julia died and it was too late and he would never see him doff Senor Quijana and take on Don Quixote de la Mancha, broke my heart in a breathtaking way.

Miguel is like that, you see. He writes about these things, and as you read, suddenly there is music, and wonderful roses. . . .

Why don’t you all go over there and tell him so?


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