Yesterday morning, for the first day of my entire life, I woke up into a world without Stephen Sondheim. I cannot say that I like it better than the world I have known every day before that. It feels somehow bereft, stolen, less than, without…

Things looked pretty much the same. The Sun was shining 

…”I think about you.” 

There was Sky 

…”I remember sky.” 

The proletariat was going to and from the subway station 

…”and another hundred people just got off of the train.”

So you see, it is woven into the fabric of my being how he helped me see the world. 

…”Take me to the world that’s real. Show me how it’s done.” 

Like so many legendary icons of Show Business, Stephen and I had a few direct contacts but he would not have known me. I do remember when he came to see Richard Maltby’s THE SIXTIES PROJECT. I was seated diagonally in front of him. He was so quiet and polite and unassuming, yet I could not keep my eyes from darting over my right shoulder. 

Just to be in his presence… 

…”All I know is, the minute you turn
And he’s suddenly there,
There won’t be trumpets!”

It got back to me that his only comment on the show was