What's Leftover?

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Another fun party in Lindrith, New Mexico, hosted by Todd Columbo (infamous hermit and woodworker-extraordinaire) who wants Lindrith to remain undiscovered. Please...don't tell.

Jim Terr, Host

Bill, Cameraman

Contestants, Penny, Alexa, Lucas, Aimee

Wackwords, a dictionary game show.

What's Leftover from December? An evening of laughter and songs, sung by Susan Doyle, Rol's humor, great food by Lisa and Todd and the purring of cats as they scamper around the deer feeding in the fall dusk.


What's Leftover from the game show Wackwords, hosted by Jim Terr (upper left), a very funny, intelligent actor? Words. Words. Words. Words like sanies, brimborian, glabrescente, howdah. Laughter, laughter, more laughter! Wackwords will be aired on Channel 16 (date as yet to be announced) Public Access Television.

What's Leftover is an idea. An idea for a theatre presentation concerning the consciousness of aging. Characters who are denied their freedom. Characters who are alive like you, like me.
Be on the lookout for more information concerning "Branches", a developing idea.

What's leftover from this morning? Memories of ice melting on blacktop, the sounds of classical music, an icicle dropping from the flat top roof, the butterfly bush laden with snow and Miss Pearl Foster's breathing as she dozes under the four poster bed. That is What's Leftover from this Christmas Eve's morning. May you have merry in your heart and Christmas in your soul!

What's Leftover?

What's leftover from a trip to New York, (YES, YIKES, THE New York) is a whole lot of photographs of Regina and Miranda head to head, singing songs (Holy S... Miranda's voice is so rich, Regina's stories so full) , giggles and a walk along Riverside Park. Smells of a bakery in Chelsea; memories of ripe banannas, tomatoes (probably from Jersey) and a smiling vendor singing, "fruit, fresh fruit"; The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" and dreams of angels and of men in William Blake's etching; my sweet friend Sarah Hasted waving, "Come on In" as she stands inside the Hasted-Hunt gallery now filled with extraordinary photographs that tell real stories of yes, REAL people. People like you. People like me.

A man walks his bicycle, not quite tipping over(the bicycle, that is) from the bags of cans, plastic and other items he will trade for some green. He is smiling, he is content. A mornings work is done. "Thank God for leftovers", he sings.

What's leftover from New York? Echoes of laughter from Hitchcock's "39 Steps" as performers delighted everyone with vaudeville like routines, slapstick humor and an evening of anticipation and comical moments that caused much audience participation during intermission ("Wasn't that just wonderful", "How bout' that shower curtain", "I just love to laugh, aren't they simply wonderful"). The Helen Hayes Theatre, filled with all sorts of people ready to be entertained, will be remembered as THE PLACE where under fantastic lighting, actors beautifully dressed in period costumes captivated my eyes . Yes it really happened- people went to spend a short time together, to laugh OUTLOUD, to poke one another, to walk away grinning and for a change, NOT ONE TEAR!

Subways and busses, honking drivers, clinking of glasses with Patrick at The Kettle (THE BAR), the shrill of an ambulance, a garden walkway above the city; city lights through a bedroom window, clapping feet on stairs, an infant in a carriage, a comedy routine in Central Park, An olive eyed actor called Tom who sang, "You make me feel so young..." (and boy did he ever...), the German Day Parade, a "wishing tree" on a parking space turned community spot for the day, Ed Gregory with his twinkling blue eyes as he commented on cycles of this life; the turn of the bolt on the door- all this and more is what's leftover.

What's leftover from the last day in The City is of Central Park, the flavor of a gyro, strains of music from a Julliard Trio, three comediennes shouting, "Are you gonna let them tip that, America?", and a peaceful walk through a Strawberry Field as three veiled women chanted prayers, a wave goodbye and the closing of a one train door as another opened.

What's leftover from New York is gratitude. Gratitude for Carole and Hal who made this trip possible, gratitude for Linda, Tsyndu, Evelyn and Lyn and the neighbors in "the hood" who cared for Miss Pearl Foster. That's what's leftover, gratitude, and it feels real good.

What's Leftover?

Starting today I'll be writing about my favorite subject, Leftovers! After all, I'm leftover, you're leftover, it's all leftover so why not shout about it.

What's leftover from yesterday's writing is the beginning of a new program for children! BBBB, Building Bridges By Bartering is an idea conceived by Piojo Rojo and designed by his "Academia de Piojo Rojo". It is an interactive learning adventure for children ages 6-11. Piojo Rojo came out of the dumps. You can learn about him by reading The Dump Chronicles I posted on my web site.

What's leftover from last nights acting studio is an idea for the rewrites of an old performance. Acting buddies, Kevin, Sylvia, Me and Deb in photograph taken after my performance in Albuquerque this past July.

What's leftover from this morning's cacophony of sounds, a glorious sunrise and a hungry dog called Miss Pearl Foster, is a lot of enthusiasm for this day. It is what it is!

What's Leftover

Eleven pm and thinking about what's leftover from this evening. Jesus, a waitress, a peg leg and a love song for a new grandson- You guessed it, the music of Terry Allen, Bukta Allen, Lloyd Maines,and one helluva banjo player named Richard Bowden for a crowd of locals who came together to listen to soulful, foot tapping, hand clapping, music. Music about the heart, music about every place and any place, music about you, music about me! A Rabbi dancing with his walker, toddlers holding hands, twirling about, a couple waltz, dinner on the ground, cheers and applause- the echoes of good laughter among friends- that's what's leftover from this nights "Bandstand music on the plaza" in Santa Fe, New Mexico. And it's great, it's just really great! Thanks Darby from Jackalope for being one of the ones to make this night possible for all of us to enjoy being just where we are!

Leftovers in Albuquerque

Yikes! Can you believe it? I sure as hell couldn't when I was invited to perform a twenty minute piece of my Santa Fe Performance, "Leftovers, dirty panties, bones and fish sauce",
at the First Annual "Sol-O-Fest" in Albuquerque, at the Filling Station Theatre this past July!

So what did I do as soon as I got the invitation? I called Maura Dhu Studi, writer, acting coach and director and said, "You're not going to believe this" and then begged, "Is there time to help me with rewrites, etc. etc..." And the rest was history. After two weeks of intense meetings, rewrites, etc. (and a whole lot of encouragement from Sarah Lovett) the show was ready to go-and so was I! Well, almost. My hair was now limp- I thanked the hair angels for Dee Dee Adams, designer and stylist in Santa Fe who not only works miracles with hair, but teaches you how to make it look good thru age transitions!

I've always searched for a meaningful definition of the word value. This show challenges a cultural assumption that leftovers have no value-this assumption being applied to relationships, experiences and material objects.


"Leftovers, Taking Turns", is a leftover from childhood. It is what it is: a story about a daughter's father and a father's daughter; of an incident, a period of silence, a moment of reconciliation.


This piece is a study of contrasts, of the importance of memories and an acceptance of what is. By composting a jambalaya of emotions; by sifting through the leftovers, I discovered what IS leftover IS something new.


Having the opportunity to perform this piece at the Filling Station Theatre was both a humbling and exciting adventure. This being my second performance experience, my first out of town in a strange theatre,I had not considered the "technical" aspects of the performance. So when David, Lighting and Sound Technician, asked, "How do you like this light, we have several options, what about this...",all I could say was, "Whatever you think- but, is there something wrong with the lights? I mean, David, they're so bright, I don't think I can see everybody and are they supposed to be this hot?" David, in his kind manner, laughed and said, "Welcome to the theatre baby."

What a great welcome it was. From the moment I stepped into the silver "Performers" trailer, to the adventures of working with other performers, I constantly was in awe of the process. I had an opportunity to share in the "transitions" of performances by moving a set piece. Gosh, people are soooooo patient. No one got angry when I fumbled in the dark, bumped into a pole, said excuse me to the pole and then forgot my prop, leaving it on stage for the next performer. Thanks John Wylie for having a sense of humor! Almost forgot to mention the last minute clothing improvisation. So what do you do when your custom beaded dress, designed and created by Linda Storm, Santa Fe artist, gets caught on an object and the lovely beaded hem unravels? You do what any dump-collecting, leftover shopper does, you borrow the blue painters tape and recreate what is leftover.

The performer's trailer was fun! Snacks, taking photos, laughter, helping each other quiet the nerves and so much comraderie. Yikes, Hell yes I'd do it again tonight if someone invited me to do another performance.


Yikes, can't forget the friends that supported me. People like Todd and Susan driving from Lindrith; my Tuesday acting buddies: Kevin, Deb, Laura and Sylvia, taking time from their scenes; Leona driving solo after a long day of work in Santa Fe; Carole, my friend and manager cheering me on; my "Gourmet GirlFriends" Evelyn and MaryJane always supportive with lots of hugs; smiles from artists, Nicole Barosi and Charlie A., the other performers being so gracious and helpful AND finally, a high five from David and Beth, gracious owners of the theatre and producer of this Sol-O-Fest! Oh yes, I would do it all again. Mmm...this sounds like what's leftover is the beginning of another monologue.
(for a peek at the other photographs, take a look at my album, Leftovers,
on Facebook)

Filling Station Theatre Hosts "Sol-O-Fest"

The Filling Station Theatre, Albuquerque's newest theatre located at 1024 4th St. SW hosted "Sol-O-Fest, their First Annual weekend of 8 solo pieces. The theatre, an historic garage on Route 66, dating back to the 30's houses a 1600 sq. ft. blackbox theatre. Solo pieces were presented by Linda Rodeck, Sleam, Deborah Finkelstein, Judith Shotwell, Penny Sinone, Ryan Jason Cook, James Koskinas and John Wylie with Tim Edwards and Kevin Morgan providing great music. Check this theatre out! They also have an artists gallery, and showcase other artists as well as visiting performers. For more information about the Filling Station Theatre, visit with Beth Bailey and David Sinkus at www.fillingstationabq.com

The Dump Chronicles Day Eleven

The creature turned around quickly. The boss man was now sitting behind the glass door of a crane with a large bucket. On the bottom of the cranes oversized bucket, the words El Toro, “The Bull” was painted. Another man who was dressed in jean coveralls with big pockets, wearing a large straw hat, standing on the back of a 1966 yellow, paint peeling pickup truck, shouted to the boss man.

“Did you see that,” he said? The boss man on El Toro laughed. The truck driver kept pointing, “Look at that critter with the trash can lid on its head, standing near that pest, Piojo Rojo. Let’s get it.”

The Dump Chronicles Day Ten

“Stranger, what makes you think I’m a stranger?” said the creature.

The skinny red man ignored the creatures question. “See that guy over there, the one picking up that bag of cans? He thinks he’s the boss around here. He calls me Piojo Rojo, ‘the red cootie’.

Can you believe it? He thinks I don’t know what he’s saying a lotta times cause I don’t speak his language, but I can tell when he’s talking’ bout me- I ain’t stupid. He tried to get rid of me one time. Almost ran me over with his bucket machine but I got away cause I sprayed him with a sweet smell that I get whenever I want to. All I have to do is lift my leg and it works! Ha!”

He started to lift his leg when a loud crunching noise drowned out his words. “Hurry, you’d better move before his machine buries you.”

The Dump Chronicles Day Eight

The Creature dropped his hands and turned around in disgust. He saw that the skinny red man behind the voice was about the same height as himself, very red and had four arms. The two lower arms dangled past his knees. The skinny red man had snow speckles on his face, which made him look funny to the creature.

“Wipe that wish off your face,” the creature said to the skinny red man.

“What are you talking about?” the skinny, red man snapped.

“Wish, wish- that wish on your face and in your hair” Cappy said.

“Wish”, the skinny red man barked back at him,” you mean this?” He wiped the snow from his face and began to laugh.

“Yes” said the Creature.

“You sure are bossy-- especially for someone who’s a stranger, said the skinny red man.”

The Dump Chronicles Day Seven

Everywhere he looked the creature saw mounds and peaks and small hills of snow sculptures that glistened in front of his eyes as the sun slowly rose. “It must have wished during the night”, he thought, referring to the snow. He heard noises, smelled something strong and felt all sorts of things against his person. Birds were flying above him, squawking loudly.

“What kind of a dump is this, anyway?” he questioned, annoyed. He sensed something very familiar about this place, yet he could not recognize anything in particular. The sun was hot, melting the snow, revealing bright pieces of blue and green glass, papers with faded photographs, tinsel clinging to plastic trees, a large, wrinkled, shiny can without a lid, a Tonka Truck, a torn bathrobe, a checkered table cloth still in its original package, a large stuffed pony minus the tail, a child’s left foot sneaker, a wooden picnic basket, and many other things.


“Hey, you don’t belong here...” a voice said from behind the Creature.

“I belong wherever I am,” the creature answered without thinking as he tried to remove his hat. As he touched his hat, his collar changed colors again, this time from white to a shimmering rainbow of colors. He blended in with his new environment. He shook his head, he wiggled his body; the hat moved when he moved and stopped when he stopped. The hat was now a part of him. Once again, he heard a voice.
“What are you doing with that trash can lid on your head? You look silly, you look like...”

The Dump Chronicles Day Six



When he awoke, the creature was alone, his head hurt and he was weary. “I feel like I’ve been asleep for a long while”, he said out loud. By now, Gramma Brown would be wondering where he was. She would be unhappy that he missed his lessons and his chores. Who would be there to help his Gramma gather food? He knew he had to find his way home soon. Slowly he stood up on his hind legs and moved along the shaft until he came to a cavern where a brilliant light from above bounced off the walls, almost blinding him. He looked straight up at the light.

“If I climb up, maybe I’ll reach the hole where I fell in and I can find my way back to Glory” he muttered aloud. The creature started to climb. The walls of the cavern were crumbly in spots so he had to move slowly. It seemed like he had climbed for a long time. He started to worry that he would not reach the hat. But just when he thought he could go no further, he reached the top and pushed his head up, hitting the light above him. Nothing happened. Holding on to the cavern walls, he pushed his head once more, only this time tasting dirt as he thrust his head through the light.

Squinting, he looked up and could see that what he thought was a light, had been a large, shiny, wrinkled hat now stuck to his head. He touched the hat, his eyes widening as his collar changed from black to white. “Grampa”, he called out, “What’s happening? Where am I?” he asked aloud as he looked around, pulling the rest of his body out of the hole. But there was no answer.

The Dump Chronicles Day Five

Suddenly, lightening struck a nearby tree, creating a loud boom and igniting the wood. Frightened, he jumped away from the tree. He could smell burning wood and see smoke billowing everywhere. The creature searched frantically for a way to escape the raging fire that was rapidly enveloping the forest.

Looking down he saw the opening to a mine shaft. Shaking, he climbed in, falling into darkness. As he was falling he thought he heard the voice of his Grampa Brown calling after him, as he would often do, “Remember, you belong wherever you are”. Then, with a big thud, the creature hit the bottom of the shaft and passed out.

The Dump Chronicles Day Four


Quite early one Sunday morning stories circulated in the village about Grampa who had been gone for several days. Maybe, the village creatures said, he was captured, had gotten himself in trouble or was burnt up during the great fire. Probably, some people thought, Grampa Brown was stolen by the forest devil. After many years had passed, the stories got to be legends. Grampa remained missing and the creature began to wonder just what had happened to his “Grampa Brown”. So this particular morning, he set off on his own to find his Grampa Brown. Before he left on his adventure he told his Gramma he would return with something special. “You be careful child and remember your Grampa” Gramma said tenderly. “I will, Gramma”, said the creature and off he went.

The creature did not know where to look for his Grampa so he started walking straight from the Village Glory to the Forest Green. Surely, he thought, he would find his Grampa. With these thoughts in mind, he searched everywhere along the path hoping for a clue that would lead him to Grampa Brown. It wasn’t long before he found a cave and crawled in but no Grampa. Climbing out, he noticed some pinon nuts on the ground so he helped himself to a meal. Next, he found a camp site with a large, black bag. He tore the bag apart rummaging through crumpled white tissues, nibbling on pieces of crusted bread. For hours he wandered in the Forest Green, peeping under trees, behind rocks, and calling out “Grampa, Grampa” but to no avail. Finally, feeling full of goodies, the creature stopped near a very old Juniper tree. He leaned against the tree and closed his sleepy eyes for a nap.

The Dump Chronicles Day 3

Episode One
“In the dumps”

In the Forest Green, a three-foot-tall, furry, brown creature with large black eyes was moving quickly. The hour was getting late and he had wandered very far from his home in The Village Glory. He hadn’t meant to be gone so long- he just wanted to have an adventure.
The trees in the Village Glory were thick and tall. It was between the base of two such trees that the Grandpa had made their home. And it was there that the creature had first heard his Grandpa talk about The Forest Green and the wonders of the world.
For, just as long as he could remember, he had heard stories about his Grampa- how Grampa had taken off by himself, “just looking” Grampa would say. Grampa would be gone for hours and just when Gramma thought he was a goner, Grampa would show up with some story to tell. With a grin on his face, Grampa would recall his unexpected meeting with a very tall, pale man and would recount the fight for his life; saying how the critter grabbed Grampa by his furry collar, tried to drag him away but how Grampa tricked him, played dead until the man dropped him and Grampa took off. Often, Grampa would embellish his stories with tales of people hiking in the woods leaving all kinds of goodies to eat; of prospectors around camp fires that burned long into the night; of strange objects streaking across the sky that made crackle like sounds as they lit up the forest. Gramma would shake her head and tell Grampa that one of these days he was gonna get eaten up or something if he didn’t stay away from places he didn’t belong. But Grampa would laugh, and say, “Gramma, I’m Grampa Brown and I belong wherever I am.”

The Dump Chronicles Day 2

In the darkness a single flame struck a branch, igniting a wood of green trees and creatures of the forest. At the same moment, a train was passing thru. The train wrecked—sending the inhabitants fleeing into the burning woods.

Some passengers and creatures of the forest, seeking shelters in protected areas, survived.

Excerpts From "The Dump Chronicles" Day1

For the next few weeks, I will post excerpts from my work in progress, a childrens' environmental adventure series titled "The Dump Chronicles".

The story begins with Cappy, who is wandering in another world, underground, trying to get home.

Seeing a light, he follows it upward, thinking it leads home. Breaking through, he finds himself in a trash dump! The light, it turns out, is a shiny trash can lid, which he ends up wearing on his head.

Cappy doesn't like all the smells and odd colors of the dump, so he decides to go back the way he came. Unfortunately, the hole has now been covered by a giant El Toro trash masher!

"Leftovers-dirty panties, bones and fish sauce

"Just A Dollop, Darling"

Photograph by Barbara Benzaquen

Leftover from week of March 23

What is leftover from this past week is a dilemma:
What will Dirty Sally write for her next performance? Perhaps, "Dirty Sally Studies Buddhism", or "Chops", or "Hitting It Big". Keep checking her blog in the next few weeks to see what is developed!

LEFTOVER from opening night, February 20, 2009

What's leftover from the opening night performance of Leftovers: Dirty Panties, Bones and Fish Sauce

A check for Las Cumbres Community Services.
Recycled Programs and Tickets
Dirty Sally's Prop Trunk

Dirty Sally Productions
Thanks everyone who showed up to support this wonderful community service organization!

"LEFTOVERS" Performance February 20,21 - 27,28 2009

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The first Dirty Sally Production Company event,

LEFTOVERS:
dirty panties, bones and fish sauce!
(see POSTER - click here)

written and presented by Penny Sinone,

directed by
Tanya Taylor Rubinstein of PROJECT LIFE STORIES.

This premier event will be at
the Santa Fe Railyard Performance Center
in Santa Fe, N.M on
Feburary 20,21,27,28th,
at 7:30 P.M. each evening

First Night Will Benefit:

The mission of Las Cumbres is to provide quality services, public awareness, and integrated community supports for children, adults, and families facing social, emotional, and/or developmental challenges.

Tickets $15- at door or
Order from KICKS : 505-982-9277
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