When I was 11, my grandfather (a Greek man in his late 60s) took me, at my request, to the traveling show of Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake (which, by the way, is having a revival this December in London if anyone wants to come with me). Ten minutes into the show, Pappou turned to me and said, “Sweetheart, I don’t think this is meant for me. I am going to wait out in the lobby. Holler if you need anything.”... Read more