Lucia Frangione

My Cross Fit club has a fundraiser for their kids at risk fitness program that my coach heads up. It seems like a worthy cause, I’m just up the street, so I decide to slip into my Ralph Lauren magenta cocktail dress and black pearls and make an appearance. I enter and swish around, looking terribly terribly interested in the silent auction items because I don’t know a soul in the room. I am gregarious on the page but in person I prefer to be the quiet observer and let others hold court. I will step up if the room…

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I’m studying ancient Rome right now, specifically 45-35 sort of era: Julius Caesar, Cleopatra, Marc Antony, Herod, Octavian and Octavia. Because Chris Britton played Caesar in the Julius Caesar I starred in as Portia, he has been the one galloping through history with his laurel leaves and purple robe in my mind.   I’ll have to stick to a cast of two though: Antony and Cleopatra – so  I can tour it. Marc Antony I’m writing for Aleks Paunovic. Seriously. Can you think of anyone more perfect to march the Roman empire into Parthia? I’ll probably have to get a…

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Today is my second day at Cross fit. Peacock struts by and Charlie asks him how old he is and he shouts with pride, “Fifty two”. But something tells me he’s lying. That’s okay. It’s probably hard for him to say fifty two, let alone sixty two.   I warm up beside Charlie’s apprentice. I didn’t catch his name but he’s Puerto Rican in military gym strip: could be a rapper, could be a soldier, could be a hip YWAM. Whatever he is, he’s a believer. He helps me with my form, nice guy, and I ask him how long…

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How does a person keep the faith when they are in prison for twenty-seven years of their life? How do they emerge out of that dark pit of injustice and brutality and go on to rule a nation successfully through very difficult years with temperance, reconciliation and relative peace at the age of seventy one? How do they keep this activism up well into their nineties, particularly regarding humanitarianism and AIDS? It is never too late to do something remarkable. Nelson Mandela is the first face of peace for me, and perhaps for my entire generation. What an honor it…

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Mother of pearl am I sore today. And it isn’t all Charlie’s fault. Though the thought of seeing him tomorrow at Cross Fit frightens me a little. Today, I cleaned the smallest apartment I’ve ever cleaned with a rather significant Texan trying to live there. I will call this client Tex. Tex is terribly incongruent in this Yaletown one bedroom designed for a teacup poodle who fits inside the tiny Gucci purse of a tiny Tokyo fashionista. Tex should be in a sprawling rancher, horses, cattle, fields of oil. Tex has a voice strong enough to yell over two sections…

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I circle the graffiti marked cross fit building off of Clark like a buzzard in my black gym strip until I find an entrance. It says something akin to Cross Fit Mad lab – be prepared for cardiac arrest – leave your ego at the door. I tremble in my Lulu Lemons, “You’re a long way from hot yoga, Toto.” I open the door and enter into a large simple rough manly lair of a warehouse gym. This is a real gym! It isn’t some gym posing as a hair salon or a juice bar. It’s a real gym with…

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We strap our leggy Douglas onto the roof of the mini (the tree larger than the vehicle) and put-put our way home, giddy with excitement. Nora and I are having Christmas early at Grammy and Poppa’s because my brother is in town so I thought we’d get into the whole spirit of the season early. We also have the Algerians here, shining a fresh light onto the whole beautiful absurdity of the season:   1)   Cut down a large tree from the forest and bring it into your house 2)   Gack it up and light it within an inch of…

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Last night we closed Except in the Unlikely Event of War. We had two large audiences who whooped it up and we ended with an awesome young band featuring Zac Youssef’, (not sure if it was the Bank Dogs or just some of them – they were great https://www.facebook.com/events/722956794398624/ – and good friends stayed after for a little party. I came home and fiddled around until two thirty. Why? Well, I don’t think I wanted to wake up to being a maid in the morning.   But by this afternoon…   The sun is shining through the Westend apartment and…

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What an immense day, and beautiful, as always, because that is how I choose to see it.   This week, a former flame was in our audience. I hadn’t seen him since a very abrupt and painful breakup over a betrayal about a year and a half ago. He is a magnificent lover and a great mind and wrote beautifully. Seeing him brought back a flood of feelings. I sort of wanted to hug him and kick him and make love to him and mostly, I just wanted to fall asleep. It was too much. So, yes, indeed, I just…

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Night Riding   Today is so balmy for winter I pull on my fuzzy blue sweater and ride my bike to work for the matinee for fun. Plus, parking is six bucks and I need the exercise. For those of you who don’t live in Vancouver, our mayor has been adamant about putting in bike trails (unlike Rob Ford in Toronto who demolishes bike trails, but that’s a whole other story) and it is now very easy and safe for me and others to cross the city.   I get to ride through the lovely heritage part of Strathcona, skooch…

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