I've Got No Strings...

It's Take Your Girlfriend to Work Day! (Or an ordinary Monday in Los Angeles.) Today, I accompanied my boyfriend to the theater he works at. We rounded the corner to see a news crew van parked outside. I excitedly wondered who the reporter would be on the scene.

Upon walking in, we immediately headed to the workshop to get situated, and I, admittedly, not wanting to be a distraction, I remained quiet and tried to be invisible. As I was setting up my laptop on the work bench, I heard a very familiar voice, which caused ripples of memories to flow into my mind.

I was suddenly seventeen again, watching the evening news on KTLA with my parents during dinner. The contralto tone of the reporter at the front of house and was instantly recognizable. In a flash, I envisioned stories that she reported on over the many years of our family's viewership, and recalled that she presented stories of human interest and the arts in Los Angeles.

My boyfriend, R*, came into the workshop, after speaking to the newscaster. He had Googled her, and showed me her image on his phone. It was exactly the person I thought it was. The LEGENDARY Gayle Anderson. I began tearing up as I recollected my memories of her to R*. I decided that a brief glance at the goings on disguised as a water refill was in order, and I headed to the front of the theater, hoping to have the opportunity to just watch Gayle doing her thing.

She was sitting in a theater seat, gathering her purse and cane. I turned to R*, who had followed me out, and giggled like a little girl. I was downright giddy as we reached the lobby, where the water dispenser is. R* gave me a little directed nod toward my left, and I turned to see Gayle standing there.

I sheepishly approached her and told her that I have been a fan since I was a teen. She feigned annoyance at the mention of that and laughed. She thanked me, and we talked about how she has been a supporter of this theater for decades, after she was tasked with presenting a story about "this weird little theater with their weird little puppets." We talked for a few brief moments, and R* and I walked back to the workshop.

I thought this would have been one of those cool events that I would have loved to have shared with my parents. I texted my brother, instead, knowing he would appreciate the encounter. He responded to my text with an unusually enthusiastic, "OMG! I LOVE HER!" I like to think my parents would have had the same reaction.

Later, someone is coming in to shoot a music video. I don't know who the artist is, yet, but I am looking forward to finding out. There is always a flurry of activity here. Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers was here two weeks ago, and Paris Hilton made an appearance for a meeting of some sort a month ago. Never a dull moment.

When I am here, I mostly do my own thing on my laptop while R* works. Sometimes, I am able to sit in what they call the Puppet Parlor, which is an area with adorable painted metal chairs, with the backs forming twisted heart shapes, white, with bubblegum pink seats. There is a full view of the stage, with heavy maroon velvet curtains, and three crystal chandeliers hanging just above the top of the curtains valance at the center.

This theater is over one hundred years old, sitting in the midst of the ever changing neighborhood of Highland Park, in Los Angeles. The Bob Baker Marionette Theater moved to this location a few years ago, after being in their previous location since 1963.

The founder and master puppet builder, and theater's namesake, Bob Baker, died in 2014, at the age of 90, but his art and work live on through weekly performances here at the theater, as also at events in and around the Los Angeles area, reaching and entertaining over ONE MILLION children in their many years of operation. Every year, the theater throws a celebration, called Bob Baker Day, where they take over Los Angeles State Historic Park. Last year, I had the privilege of attending the event with over TWENTY THOUSAND others, where we enjoyed performances, vendors, and food trucks. It was quite a spectacle to behold.

To say this place is magical would be an understatement. Sure, the atmosphere is something out of a whimsical dream, with it's daisy dotted flooring, to the various marionettes on display in the lobby and theater. But really, the magic lies in the hands of the many passionate members of the staff here. From the puppeteers, to office staff, and the people who are entrusted with fabricating and repairing the marionettes themselves, the entirety of the group is a testament to Bob Baker's vision of bringing the art of puppetry to the masses. My boyfriend is the senior puppet builder here, and his talent for bringing ideas to life astounds and amazes me on a daily basis.

Everyone here is so lovely, truly. Their mission statement itself speaks volumes, as the core beliefs incorporate inclusivity and optimism, and also acknowledges and honors the very land that the theater inhabits, which once belonged to the Tongva and Gabrieleno people. The staff here has made it their mission to amplify the story of those who were the native caretakers of this area.

I am so blessed to be able to be here, soaking up the positivity and enchantment that this place extends to all who enter it's doors. If everything works out the way we want, it will also be the setting of our wedding, hopefully happening on my 50th birthday in June.