Valentine's Hoops

The high school is hosting the regional basketball tournament this week, and we could get in free by taking goodies for the officials. And we did. As soon as I got home, we trudged over through sub-arctic temperatures to deliver food and watch the game. Or so I thought. Turns out our team didn't take the floor for another 90 minutes. We then walk back home through the sub-arctic temperatures, and I meekly suggest that next time we find a game schedule. It was dinner time, and we ate not a cookie as we carried them to the school, and Your Sis picks out where we could eat. Now keep in mind, it's Valentine's Day. This is when folks go out to eat, and almost any place we go is going to be crammed. And so it was as we arrived at the steakhouse. A 30-minute wait, we hear, and right back out the door we go. We go to the Chinese place to eat and eventually discuss high-school memories of Valentine's Day. And back to the school we go to watch the boys varsity team.

A few weeks ago, the newspaper staff, whom I have passively adopted as a sometime consultant, sold t-shirts they designed. It's a person's two fists side by side with "2006" and "2007" on the knuckles. The principal decided this was a gang sign and banned the shirts. Because we all know how many gang members work for school newspapers. I got my dander up about it and asked Your Sis to get me a shirt to wear downtown. Which I do. I also decided to wear it to the game. And before we get out hopes up, no, nothing happened. But there was a moment where the principal was eying me from afar, and I hoped he would say something. Still, the night was not wasted as we watched our team play just about as good as a team can. It was a clear win as they near the conference finals.

At home after, we watched "Lost" head in a definite sci-fi direction for what proved to be one of the more satisfying episodes yet. There was much eating of M&Ms as well.

Picture of the Day
Plume activity on Io, a moon of Jupiter.



In the News
Remember Tony Snow adamantly saying the administration proved the Iraqi government was supplying the Iraq insurgents. Not 24 hours later, Bush said "I don't think we know" if Iran's leaders were behind the effort. He also said "The idea that somehow we're manufacturing the idea that the Iranians are providing IEDs (improvised explosive devices) is preposterous." Which sounds very nice until we remember the ginned up evidence against Iraq.

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John Edwards's campaign has opened a storefront in Second Life, the massive online virtual reality. It's as aggressive a strategy to court voters as any other exploitation of novelties, but it seems a move inspired by Gore's famous techno-savvy. It's as if someone in the campaign asked "what would Gore do?"It's a clever move, designed to increase his profile when he's eclipsed by Hillary and Obama, but such a move could also make him look marginalized to the majority demographic. Second Life is hardly mainstream. It's not even as popular as online games like World of Warcraft.

Inherit the Wind

We're attending a basketball conference at her high school, and attendance is free for us if we bring eats for the visiting personnel. We made brownies and cookies and managed only to eat a few of each. Then we sat down for wine, soup, and bread. We finished up the last half of Inherit the Wind, and now I must read the original play. I bought it at a library sale last year, and I'm curious more than ever how the two versions differ. The film walks on much the same water as Contact, the 1997 Jodie Foster film based on the Carl Sagan book. That movie is one I always forget to mention as a favorite of mine despite its unceasing ability to get me all emotional like.

Inherit the Wind works as a great film on every level. The characters get plenty of time to develop in and out of the courtroom, the direction is clever but subtle, and the film, arriving as it did mid-century, presents both the broad theatre style of Fredric March and the nuanced manner of Spencer Tracy. This variety of style serves to further distinguish the two opponents in the Scopes Monkey Trial: March is of the country and Tracy of the city. The former advocates faith and religion above all while the latter espouses the sovereignty and sanctity of the mind. And both overstep their ground to make their cases. It's a thoroughly balanced and intelligent film that allows both viewpoints their time to shine.

It's also a pop-culture trove. Both leads played Dr. Jekyll, the accused is one of the "Bewitched" Darrens, the bad guy later played Sheriff Lobo, the judge is Sherman T. Potter, and even Mr. Roper pops up near the end.

Picture of the Day
Mars as seen from an orbiter.


In the News
The Libby trial is nearing the end, and defense attorneys are trying to present Libby testimony without putting him on the stand. The prosecution is understandably protesting. What is most surprising about the trial is that the reporters appearing on the stand all cite different people as their source for the Valerie Plame leak. Libby is on trial for perjury and obstruction; leaking the name of a classified CIA official would be a felony. But no one is under charges of that despite all this testimony that many folks did so -- the first press secretary (who copped a deal with the prosecutor after pleading the fifth), the deputy secretary of the Pentagon, and Libby himself.

Cheney is not appearing in front of this jury although he did testify to the prosecutor during the investigation. Cheney can claim he declassified the name under power of a presidential signing statement. But doing so would be an admission that he purposefully targeted her in order to send a signal to her husband, an official who discredited the Nigerian-Iraq connection Cheney needed to purse the invasion. If this name could only be known by folks with access to classified info, someone had to have disseminated her name to the various administration staffs and told them to get her name out there. If the name wasn't classified, there's no value in identifying her. The only reason then for outing her is to scare other CIA agents into going along with the Iraq-9/11 rationale for war despite evidence to the contrary.

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A government press briefing over the weekend tried to prove Iran's government is supplying the insurgency with weapons. But two things raise eyebrows. First, the ammo shown in photos displays Western numerals and letters. Second, the chairman of the joint chiefs, who was out of the country during the briefing, only learned of it and the alleged evidence when asked by reporters. When press secretary Tony Snow was asked about it, he was caught flatfooted. The following is from yesterday's White House press briefing.

Q Tony, on Iran, General Peter Pace is now saying that he was not aware that this briefing was going ahead in Baghdad, where military officers were talking about Iran's influence in Iraq this past weekend. How could the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs not know that military officers would be briefing in Baghdad?

MR. SNOW: I'll refer that back to General Pace, frankly. But I'll tell you, what General Pace --

Q But did the White House loop him in? Did the White House loop in the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs?

MR. SNOW: I believe that this was a Pentagon briefing. Again, it typically is something that when the Pentagon is doing it, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs knows about it.

Let me tell you what -- I think a lot of people are trying to whomp up a fight here that doesn't exist. I spoke with General Pace a bit this morning, as well. And there is a core of information that everybody agrees upon. Number one, there is weaponry that is of Iranian manufacture that's in Iraq killing Americans. There are Iranians involved, there are Iranians on the ground. Our intelligence indicates that the explosively formed penetrators, the EFP, in fact, are directly associated with Quds forces, which are part of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards, which are part of the government. The Quds force is, in fact, an official arm of the Iranian government and, as such, the government bears responsibility and accountability for its actions, as you would expect of any sovereign government.

And I think that's pretty clear. I mean, General Pace, again, if you go through his --

Q No, you didn't say that, though -- that's where you said "people are trying to whomp up a fight." With all due respect, it's General Pace's comments, not anyone else's, where he said --

MR. SNOW: No, go back --

Q Well, he said -- let me just say, he said, "It is clear that Iranians are involved and it's clear that materials from Iran are involved. But I would not say but what I know that the Iranian government clearly knows or is complicit." Are you saying that you, from this podium, know more than the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff?

MR. SNOW: I am telling you that -- I'm telling you what the intelligence indicates.

Q So is he not in the loop? I'm just trying to understand why there's a contradiction, where the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs --

MR. SNOW: I'll tell you what -- I just know that there's -- Ed, calm down. I know you're excited, your voice is rising, your pace is increasing --

Q I don't need to calm down. I'm telling you that he is saying this; I'm not.

MR. SNOW: Well, I'm telling you I talked with him. Okay?

Q Okay.

MR. SNOW: And I've talked with him --

Q Well, we'll follow up with him, as well.

MR. SNOW: You better, because I think you will find out that the intelligence does indicate, as he said, this stuff was -- let me pose you with two possibilities. But first, the intelligence indicates that the Quds forces, which are part of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, are associated with this.

Now, let me ask a second question to you. I don't know what's more frightening, the fact that the Quds forces would be operating with the knowledge of senior officials or without the knowledge of senior officials. What is beyond dispute, and what is of primary importance here -- and General Pace hasn't disagreed with it, and we don't disagree, and frankly, again, I think you'll find upon further conversation -- he's going to be in the air for about 23 hours, so give him a day -- that, in fact, we generally agree on the basics of the situation here, which is there are armaments that have made their way from Iran into Iraq. There are Iranian forces in Iraq. These weapons are being used to kill Americans; we're going to do everything we can to protect our people.

Q Right. But on the substance of it, the briefers over the weekend said that these parts are sent to Iraq with the approval of senior Iranian officials. And the bottom line is he seems to be contradicting that.

MR. SNOW: Well, I think what General Pace may have been saying -- in fact, I know what he's saying -- and this is where we get to the rhetorical question I was asking you before -- do we have a signed piece of paper from Mr. Khomeini or from President Ahmadinejad signing off on this? No. But are the Quds forces part of the government? The answer is yes.

So the question is, I think this ends up being a semantic dispute about senior levels of the government or the government. And the fact is, the government knows about it.

Q Okay. But isn't it really a question about whether or not you have strong evidence? When the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff seem to be saying something different than the White House, does that raise questions about how solid this evidence is?

MR. SNOW: No, because you've got -- you have explosively formed penetrators. He says they exist, correct?

Q I didn't see that in this particular quote, but --

MR. SNOW: Well, no -- he said that there are weapons --

Q He says that there are projectiles manufactured in Iraq.

MR. SNOW: Okay, all right. So, okay, so there's no doubt about that, correct? There are Iranians in Iraq. There's no question about that, correct?

Q Sure.

MR. SNOW: All right, so where's the credibility problem, in terms of -- are you saying --

Q In terms of the Iranian government being behind it. That's not -- nobody's disputing whether it's manufactured in Iran. That's what -- you keep changing what my question is.

MR. SNOW: No, no, I'm trying to clarify your question, because I think this is a --

Q I don't need it clarified, I'm trying to tell you -- I know what my question is, and basically, he's saying that he doesn't see evidence that the Iranian government is clearly behind it. That's my -- I've asked that three or four times. You haven't answered that. You're saying the Iranian government is behind it.

MR. SNOW: Okay, let me put it this way -- I'll say it one more time. The Quds force is part of the Iranian government. The Quds force is behind it, is associated with it.

Q Okay --

MR. SNOW: All right? Thank you.

Q Let me follow up on this, because we have a situation where right now, a lot of the American people are hearing a lot about Iran and whether the government is involved in sending the weapons across or not. And now it would appear that the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the administration seem to be on two different pages.

MR. SNOW: We're not. And that's why I'm going to let General Pace speak for himself. We're not on a different page.

Q But you talked to him --

MR. SNOW: I know, and that's why I'm saying, because Ed's question -- Ed is citing a quote that he said earlier. I'm going to let him -- he'll be able to put it all together, because Ed's not going to believe me when I tell him what my conversation was.

Q But he's in the air for 23 hours. And these are the --

Q Let's hear it. (Laughter.)

MR. SNOW: I already laid it out for you, man.

Q But it seems to be a reasonable expectation the American people can have, to get some kind of explanation for how you can have the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the administration on two separate pages.

MR. SNOW: We're not on separate pages. The explanation --

Q Certainly, we seem to be, from what was said.

MR. SNOW: I know, because everybody is trying to get into semantic --

Q But yesterday you said the administration is confident the report on Iran is accurate and the weaponry is coming with knowledge of the Iranian government.

MR. SNOW: Of the government. And I still --

Q But now you're saying that the Quds forces, which is part of the Iranian government -- you're sort of parsing.

MR. SNOW: Well, I was parsing yesterday. I'm trying to be careful about how we do this. The question is, do we know that some particular senior official signed off? No, it's an opaque government; it's not a transparent government. But on the other hand, this is part of the Revolutionary Guard, which is part of the government, and therefore you do hold the government responsible.

Q So somebody who reads General Pace's quote, and says, hmm, that's different than what Tony Snow said yesterday -- they're wrong?

MR. SNOW: Yes. Yes. And I think what's -- again, we'll let General -- here's the --

Q So did Pace retract what he said when he spoke to you?

MR. SNOW: No, he didn't retract because what he said was accurate, as well. What he was thinking is, are you trying to lay this at the feet of members of the Supreme Governing Council; are you trying to lay this at the feet of particular individuals? The answer is, no, we don't have the intelligence that makes it that specific. He was trying to be very precise in how he answered the question. And I was being careful in how I answered it yesterday, as well. We know the Quds forces are involved. They're part of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard. That's part of the government. Just not going to go any further than that.

Q A deputy assistant undersecretary of agriculture is part of the government. Would you say that that -- if somebody was involved at that level, that that's a top level --

MR. SNOW: If you had somebody who was operating with an elite military unit, operating inside the United States, committing acts of violence, would you say that the sponsor government had some -- bore some responsibility for that elite military unit? We're not talking about deputy assistant secretaries of agriculture -- cute question, but it doesn't get to the point that people have moved armaments into Iraq and are killing Americans.

Q Yesterday you said, "In that regime there are not freelancers."

MR. SNOW: Right.

Q Do you stick by that statement, and thereby drawing it to the larger --

MR. SNOW: Again, let me just -- here's your rhetorical question: What's more frightening, the notion that they are freelancing or that they're not?

Q So they might.

MR. SNOW: No, I'm just posing a question for your consideration.

Q But then how solid is the information, though? I think the bottom line question still is if the Chairman --

MR. SNOW: Ed, the information is --

Q He's expressing doubts. He's a General. He knows this better than any of us in this room.

MR. SNOW: There are two things you need to understand. Number one, you guys have been constantly -- I did see what may be the dumbest lead of an editorial I've seen in a long time today in The New York Times, which is, "We need to declare ourselves on Iran." We've declared it over and over -- we're not going to war with them. Let me make that clear. So anybody who is trying to use this as "the administration trying to lay the predicate for a war with Iran" -- no, we're committed to diplomacy with Iran. But we are also committed to protecting our forces.

Let's go back through what we understand. We understand that these weapons came from Iran, no dispute about that. We know that Quds forces have been within Iraq, no dispute about that. We know that the Quds forces are, in fact, part of the Revolutionary Guard; they're an instrument of the Iranian government. Nobody doubts that. So the question therefore becomes, who wrote the orders -- I'm not going to -- we're not going to be able to tell you who signed the orders. But we do know that the Iranian government at that level has been involved.

The important thing is we're trying to do this, and what's interesting is that the Iranian officials -- if they deny it, that's fine. Let's make sure that they, therefore, become engaged in trying to make sure that none of that stuff comes across the border is being used to kill Americans or innocent Iraqis.

Q It's not Iranian officials denying it -- that's not -- again, it's about General Pace --

MR. SNOW: Well, actually, Jessica -- no, Jessica has pinged me many times in the last two days saying they have been denying it on her network.

Q Okay, but, again, when we're talking about -- can you clarify, though, did General Pace -- you said he had a phone conversation with him.

MR. SNOW: Yes.

Q Was he aware that this briefing was going to happen? That his own --

MR. SNOW: I actually -- I did not ask him whether he knew -- I did not ask the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs whether he knew that a Pentagon briefing was going to take place in Baghdad. Forgive me. I didn't ask the process question.

Q Well, he's the one who told reporters that he didn't know about it.

MR. SNOW: Okay. But what I said -- I think -- I asked him about the specific -- he said he wanted to be very precise, because he did not want to be making allegations that could be construed as saying that some senior official within the Iranian government was directly responsible for signing an order. I think that's right. I think he's right about that.

Q Is any of this the reason why the briefing over the weekend became on background, not on camera, because you're concerned about how -- whether --

MR. SNOW: No, what happened was the -- no, the reason it was on background -- the reason it was background -- I'm getting my exercise -- the reason it was on background was that one of the briefers otherwise would not have been able to do it. You guys understand how background briefings work. And that was the ground rule that was laid out. Now, I'm sure that you don't want to rule out background briefings now or anytime in the future. The fact is, we went public with the evidence, and you got the pictures -- again, nobody denies the armaments, nobody denies where they come from, nobody denies the importance of protecting our guys.

David.

Q If I could just come at this one other way. Beyond the evidence of the involvement of the Quds forces, there's no other evidence of ties to the Iranian government?

MR. SNOW: I don't want to lay out -- for one thing, I don't have access to the full chain of intel. But I can tell you the intel community believes that the Quds forces was involved, and I don't want to get into any further characterizations. There I would direct you to the DNI.

Q But as far as you know, when you suggested -- the Iranian government --

MR. SNOW: As far as I'm going to say here, I'm not willing to go any further. I think that's appropriately answered by DNI.

Q Do you think that the off-the-record, low-level Iran briefing has backfired? The reason I ask that is because on the one hand you avoid the comparison with Colin Powell's presentation to the United Nations, but at the same time, what you've ended up with is the sense that no one senior in the administration seems to be willing to go on the record. And I understand that one of the people -- not all of the people, but one of the people would have been unable to brief; the other people wouldn't have been unable to brief.

MR. SNOW: No, look, again, I think what's happening is that everybody is trying to create a narrative here of something that's -- look, the problem before, nobody found weapons of mass destruction. You cannot say that nobody didn't -- nobody found explosively formed penetrators. You've got pictures of the things. You know where they came from. There is no doubt about the central fact here: that you have an explosive device that's being used to kill Americans.

So what everybody is trying to figure out now is what General Pace meant -- it's now being devolved into a process argument that overlooks the key fact, which is that weaponry made its way from Iran into Iraq and it's killing Americans, and we're going to try to stop the killing of Americans.

Q Well, isn't the key fact really not only that, but the key fact is, who is sending the weapons into Iraq?

MR. SNOW: Well, again, there is evidence that links Quds force to it. Now, again, the question --

Q Direct evidence?

MR. SNOW: I'm not going to characterize -- let me put it this way, I will push all the evidentiary questions to DNI, but the finding of the intelligence community is that it's, in fact, linked to the Quds forces.

Q That's kind of a "no."

MR. SNOW: No, it's not. It's one of those -- because what you're asking is for the nature and quality of classified evidence. I get my hands tied when I get -- I don't want to get too far in front of this, trying to give you any kind of characterization beyond what's already on the public record.

One Ring to Baffle Them All

I go shopping for Your Sister's requested ring yesterday after work. I check some websites of large jewelery franchises to see about prices, but I know what she asked for -- a square or triangle cut red stone on a yellow gold band --wouldn't cost that much. I hit the Asheville Mall and find nothing. All of the main stores are loaded with diamonds or gaudy rings with too much glitter. Imagine a nine-year-old armed with a bedazzler unleashed in a Zales or Helzberg. That's what I see in every jewelry store. Valentine's Day is when they move the blinding crap, apparently. I try the department stores with no luck again.

They have some nice stuff, just not what she asked for. Your Sis wants a ring, not earrings or a necklace or a bracelet. And if the stone I find was the right color, it was cut into a heart or an oval. Does this mean she's [Boston accent] pahticulah[/Boston accent]? Not to an unreasonable degree. The stores are clearly selling to the procrastinating male hoping cumbersome items would make them feel like they successfully pulled a winner out of their ass.

I consider the fashion jewelry, that plastic blocky stuff they don't put behind the counter. Rings and necklaces for $10. I almost buy her $100 worth of it so she could pimp out on the weekends. I even look at the kiosks selling guido jewelry, but I pass on the piled-high necklaces and wristwatches the size of a basketball.

After an hour, I leave and try the Biltmore Mall. This is a spooky place. It's depressingly empty of consumers or stores, and the flickering fluorescent lights suggest a horror movie is about to break out. The Belk's wing is virtually abandoned, and only once you approach the food court do you see signs of life. I find something close to what she had asked for at their Zales, and I take phone pictures to send to her. This is part of our deal. While waiting for her response, I go to the store across the corridor (forgot the name) and find rings that are also close to what she described. But they are larger in size, approaching diva size. I don't think she'd like that, and before I could debate further with myself, she calls to say she liked the first ring. Well, OK then. I'll go buy it, I say.

And back to Zales I go. I tell the man I'd like that ring resized to her dimension and hand him her wedding ring, given to me for just this need. He says the ring I picked is much larger (a 7, where hers is a 5 3/4), and that it would need to be sent off to be resized. They can do it in a week, he says. No thanks, I say. We need the ring Wednesday.

I go back to the other store and ask about one of their diva rings. Both are handed to me, and different discounts are mentioned. I pick one I think she'd like most, note the fair price for it, and ask for it in the size of the wedding ring. I show it to the saleswoman for another measure, and she asks how I manged to get her wedding ring. Oh, I assure her, my wife instructed me to get this right. She notes the size and says the ring I picked would have to be sent off to be resized. Stores only carry rings in one size, seven. I didn't know this. A week, she says. So it's the same as with Zales, and Your Sis would have no ring for Valentine's Day. I wanted her to have something to show the other teachers Wednesday. I know half the fun of getting gifts is the comparisons over lunch. She had to have something.

I call her and ask what she wants to do. Maybe we can buy the ring, have her wear it for a few days, and then send it off for resizing. Let's wait, she says. Let's put of this ring off for another day, maybe a birthday. I know she's backing off the request. She's telling herself the inconvenience is a sign she shouldn't have asked for it. She's falling back to monasticism. OK, I assure her, but you have to get something. A big bag of M&Ms, she says. The Valentine's kind. Are you sure? She's sure. OK, we'll skip the ring, and I'll get the candy when I can find it and be home after that. Love you, bye bye. And I walk right back to Zales and order the ring.

It's a good price for a good stone and setting. I'm happy with the find, satisfied that I finally found it after all the searching, and proud that I'm doing a good thing. She'll be surprised, and the ring will only be a week late. And as I sign the receipt the salesman says, oh by the way, the ring will take two weeks. The guy who picks up rings for resizing only comes on Mondays, and he already left.

You goddamn monkeyfucking bastard. I say in my mind, of course. Out loud, I say, OK, I understand, sure. But next week's a federal holiday. No problem, The Monkeyfucker says. The courier doesn't skip on federal holidays. I'll have the ring on the 26th, he says. The 26th, I repeat. Yes, he says. I thank him, internally curse his genitals with flying pliers, and leave with ring paid for and ordered at her size.

I find the candy at Ingle's, arrive home to find a mug of beer waiting for me for all the trouble, and I tell her abut the ring, including the fact that I ordered it anyway. She's shocked, in a happy way. I tell her about Monkeyfucker, and we agree that this makes three times jewelry stores have fucked us over. All different, but each changing the purchase details once the order has been made. When I bought her engagement ring, the downtown Asheville store demanded all the payment before I could take the ring home, despite what the saleswoman told me. When she bought my wedding ring, the downtown Mayberry store jacked up the price as she arrived to pick it up. And now this.

I assure her I'm divorcing my frustration with them from her request for the ring. I don't want this to discourage her asking for specific things. Next time, I ask, tell me earlier what you want. And why doesn't a jewelry store employ someone who can resize or transplant stones on site? How many sales are lost because of this? My grouchy-sense suspects they pretend to send away the ring so a cheap replacement can later be handed to me. The store sells plastic crap for the price of the stones and never loses the expensive inventory. But I'm a cynical man, and the beer goes to my head quickly. And I'm hungry for the M&Ms.

We eat the weekly buffalo wings (made this time with honey, and they're good, ja), watch "Six Feet Under" and Colbert, and call it a night.

Picture of the Day
This person makes art out of Rubik's Cubes. I assume he has to rotate the block sides, although he could just remove and replace the stickers.

Feast Weekend

It began with a pub dinner as all weekends should. On Saturday, we went in for haircuts followed by breakfast downtown at the bakery. We then drove to Asheville's new used bookstore, possibly Your Sister's new favorite haunt. She piled up on books and I found a horror DVD. I discovered they keep the graphic novels in the Hobbies section with gaming manuals, and this only makes sense if you rename Hobbies as the Things Teen Boys Like section. But that omits the geek girls and adults, and then you realize the store owners can't be bothered to file the material correctly, and it should then be the Stuff We're Too Old To Relate To section.

We headed back to the airport plaza, and Your Sis, upon being asked about Valentine's gifts, admitted she wanted bling. Yes, bling. She described the ring she wanted but couldn't find it at the stores we tried. I'm hitting the mall after work to find it. I'm glad she managed to find something to ask for; normally she perpetuates a monastic refusal of luxury. This I can find and buy before Wednesday. At Best Buy, she got me the first Guitar Hero game, and now I have both to torture her with. She's thinking of a laptop to replace her PC. The school handed out stripped-down laptops to some teachers, but they have no reader drives. No 3.5 discs, no CDs, no DVDs. Nothing. It's a hermit computer. If you don't have a network cable or a jumpdrive, you're screwed.

We got home and had lunch at the new spot in town, The Square Root. It's swank and affordable, with a wood theme. The floor is made up of 6,000 cross-cut wood blocks. The bar is a felled tree. And the food is good. But if you get the bison burger, hold the fried jalapeños. Trust me. Afterward, I wrapped up the mash-up CD for Travis. The get-together was great, and I met again some folks from the Halloween race. They inspired me to get going on the exercise again, and I did a small routine the next day. They also shared a buffalo wing recipe I'm gonna try tonight.

On Sunday, we had a big lunch, shopped for groceries, and she took her second long nap of the weekend. I worked on the comic story and finished up the laundry. We caught the first bit of the Grammys, just enough to see the reunited Police, and watched half of Inherit the Wind, which is quickly becoming my favorite movie.

Picture of the Day
The party attendees were all eager for 300, news that warms the heart of this lifelong comic geek.

In the News
The Dixie Chicks owned the Grammys with five wins, including song, record, and album of the year. Maybe most galling for their detractors is their win for country album of the year, the third album in six years to win despite little to no country-radio support (Johnny Cash and Loretta Lynn are the others). They won in every category they were nominated. And in other news sure to make Bill O'Reilly unhappy, Ludacris won for best rap album and rap song. The Police sounded sharp last night, and I hope they tour in this area later in the year.

A Quiet Night

Your Sis overdosed on chocolate and went to bed about a half hour after I got home. I had hoped to take her out for dinner so I could tell her about the new comic, but that will have to wait for sometime this weekend. While she was in her coma, I stayed in the workshop to finish Travis's CD (see below) and start research on that comic story. I have an idea that can easily fill the three allotted pages, and now I just need a deadline.

The blog labels aren't showing up on the posts although the blog database is cataloging them. I also can't get the archives to use the date format I prefer. Still, the blog offers what I most require for now.

Picture of the Day
The Travis mash-up CD. The pic is a desktop image I found online.


1. Killing in the Boom - Shaggy/Rage Against The Machine
2. Dirty Girl - Christine Aquilera/Redman/Jet
3. When God Breaks - Led Zeppelin/Johnny Cash
4. Only Boogie - Nine Inch Nails/Kool and the Gang
5. Superstitious Jolene - Dolly Parton/Stevie Wonder
6. They Might Be Starting - They Might Giants/Will Smith/Pink
7. Sweet Country Grammar Nelly/Lynyrd Skynyrd
8. Put On The Super Freak - Police/Rick James
9. Black Sabotage - Led Zeppelin/Beastie Boys
10. Take Me Without - Franz Ferdinand/Eminem
11. The Tide Is Not Unusual - Blondie/Tom Jones
12. Big Time Dare - Gorillaz/Peter Gabriel
13. Free ADIDAS - Tom Petty/Run DMC
14. Crazy Logic - Supertramp/Gnarls Barkley
15. Surf Wax Off Your Shoulder - Jay-Z/Weezer
16. Get Rhythm - Johnny Cash/Wu-Tang Clan
17. Regulate the Dust - Warren G/Kansas
18. Rush Where It's At - Big Audio Dynamite/Beck/Green Day
19. Always With You - Willie Nelson/U2/MARRS

In The News
Let's be clear on Anna Nicole: She was an air-headed, drug-addled, attention-needy strumpet. I've seen comparisons in the last 24 hours to Marilyn fucking Monroe, and that analogy works only in the most shallow of ways (blonde, centerfold, dead). She's not a sad poster girl for desperate dieting, a Little Girl Lost in the depravity of Hollywood, nor a symbol of our consumer times. She's a third-generation Xerox of Pamela Anderson, and that's it.

+ + +

The new Secretary of Defense claims weapons in Iraq are coming from Iran. What can't be proven is that the material is from the government of Iran, just that they may be are Iranian in origin. The movement for attacking Iran is not new, but the debacle of altered evidence against Iraq has to minimize that anti-Iranian effort. Right?

Sushi and Comics

I made my house-famous stir-fry last night, and we ate it using the sushi bowl set Your Sis got me for Christmas. I discovered we still have sushi rice leftover, and that immediately reminded me of the "It's a Wonderful Tuna" night we had. I'm hesitant to make sushi again because I'm sure it can't be as good as what you made. We polished off the merlot last night, making a suddenly spooky four straight nights of alcohol. That's not a pattern this Irish-German-Cherokee needs to establish.

"Lost" was good last night, thank God. Time and a weak fall run has made me suspicious of the show's direction. This new episode had definite movement and development, and that's what we loyalists need. Once again, Sawyer brings the pop-culture references, and he and Kate recreated the Star wars prison rescue.

I talked to the guy who published the comics anthologies again, and I'm in early talks to make another short comic for Free Comic Boom Day. This is a new annual event where publishers and stores hand out special issues. It used to coincide with a summer blockbuster comic-movie adaptation, but this year, I think the day falls between such releases. Regardless, I'm gonna make another comic story in addition to the mini-comics I'm making for him to sell at conventions.

Picture of the Day
It's a small closet made to look like a socket. In college, I had a fridge made to look like a bank vault.

"Guys, Where Are We?"

Your Sis made a handsome sausage spaghetti dish last night, and we cracked open some imported Vampire merlot. We started our long slog through "Six Feet Under" episodes and tonight -- oh, tonight -- "Lost" is back. It's on now at 10, the third time slot ABC has given it for Wednesdays.

I'm playing with Blogger's upgrades, mainly the ability to post a header image. This is something I will play with quite a bit. The archives and links look a tad different, but no content has changed. In fact I may add a fleet of links along the bottom right corner. There's also the ability to add labels to the bottom of each post which then provide indexing according to category. Most people who do this make smart-ass labels, which is of course why I added it to the blog.

I'm making two mix CDs this weekend, one for Your Sis and the other for Travis, who's enjoying a birthday next week.

Moving Picture of the Day
A new Beatles musical of which I just learned, made by the director of The Lion King stage show and the film Titus. The musical numbers look good, but the story looks oh-so corny.

The Day After

Still not feeling the expected lack of burden from the show's close. My lines haven't vanished overnight; I can still recite them in under five minutes. I spoke to a college student on one of my message boards who just got cast as Gooper and offered words of wisdom for any character insight. Not that he needs it; the part's clearly delineated on the page. It's one of those roles where you should try to not get in it's way. Just read the words aloud and let the playwright do the heavy lifting. I say this now, of course, after months of worrying over inflections and motivation. I have the Buddhist contentment that only comes after the work is done.

Last night was gloriously ho-hum. We watched "Six Feet Under," talked about our workdays, and I gobbled wings while Your Sis went to bed. Much like the rest of the nation, we are in the depths of winter. It's shockingly cold out there. I thoughtlessly left a newly purchased bottle of frappuccino in the car for the next morning and discovered when I got to work that it had turned into ice cream.

Picture of the Day
This is Hyperion, a moon of Saturn. As moons go, it's puny and ugly and nothing you'd want to take to bed. But as extraterrestrial objects go, it possessing the natural beauty of a thing we can't make. It reminds me of sea sponge mixed with honeycomb, and that kind of collage analogy underscores the poetic nature of astronomy.



In the News
This kind of ugly love story is only unique because it involves astronauts. Having just finished reading The Right Stuff, I can tell you Wolfe paints a picture of martial indiscretions given unspoken approval by their spouses. With jobs that stressful, one-night stands were a given for the married, noble air soldiers. This is no way dilutes the early judgment that the arrested lady is cuckoo for Cocoa-Cocoa Puffs.

+ + +

Rudy Giuliani's presidential campaign is doomed from the start unless he can convince the GOP majority to accept his moderate social ideas. He's pro-choice and pro-gun control. You almost have to be to win the New York City mayoral job. The party needs a new direction after the neo-con administration, but it may reflexively rally around a hardline social policy to counter the centrist Democrat candidates. And make no mistake, Clinton and Obama and Edwards are not the hardline lefties pundits may wish you to believe. They're gonna follow the Bill Clinton stance of government (smaller, compassionate, proactive) because it worked well and remained popular despite his inexcusable fling with Monica.

+ + +

The trail of 1st Lt. Ehren Watada began yesterday. He's facing four years for refusing to serve in what he calls an illegal war. The judge ruled yesterday that the legality of the war cannot be argued, a statement that may directly defy the Nuremberg rulings involving soldiers following illegal orders. Not that we should bandy about World War II precedents easily; it's bad enough when folks toss in a Hitler comparison to make their shrill points. But the judge's decision does allow early appeal room for whatever verdict is handed down.

The Plays

I started doing plays, oddly enough, in church; the parents in my Baptist church would use a kids-only nativity play to themselves play matchmakers. I'm still convinced, decades later, that I was supposed to marry the girl who played Mary to my Joseph. But that was years after I worked my way up from a sheep to a shepherd to a wise man. I don't think I ever played the Roman soldier who reads the tax decree that sent the parents-to-be to Bethlehem in the first place. Maybe I left the church before then.

There were also school plays, the kind of mindless pageants excruciating for parents and kids alike. I include in these the obligatory chorale presentations where boys are directed to sing falsetto for an hour, even during the John Denver medley. I can still sing "Thank God I'm A Country Boy" because of that, surely doubling my market value on the streets. There was the Court of Queen Arithmetic in fifth grade where I played Sir Problem, the brusque, snarky character given to me no doubt because I was an insufferable motormouth at the time.

In middle school, I remember doing a reader-theater production of Sorry, Wrong Number for one class, and that was as much fun as I could imagine back then. We did it as a radio play, complete with ringing phones and recorded train noises. We may have even gotten cassette recordings of our final performance. If we did, mine is lost to the winds now.

In high school, I joined the advanced drama class for two reasons: a good number of my friends were in it, and we would travel across the state to compete against other school groups. That was it. Performing had very little to do with trying out for the class (my first audition). I got in, we indeed went here and there and won a nice chunk of awards for our work. I even got a individual trophy in the kind of surreal moment that made me feel like a homecoming queen. And my best friend at the time got the same honor (this was for a contest-wide all-star ensemble), so I had the chance to be incredibly egotistical and equally magnanimous at the same time. We had no senior production that year on account of a snafu involving the school beauty pageant, so the trophy was the highlight of my school drama class. Well, that and watching that cheerleader change clothes backstage.

I did some college plays -- The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail, Look Homeward Angel, and It's A Scream -- and went into community theatre after I graduated the university.

The Student Prince
Broadway Bound
Barefoot in the Park
The Curious Savage
The Glass Menagerie
Black Coffee
The Sound of Music
Tintypes (stage manager)
The Odd Couple

And I think this is where the blog entries can take the narration baton.

Cat On a Hot Tin Roof

The Audition
Called Back
Six Hours Til The Callback
Anxiety, Humiliation, Doubt
I Got The Call
Day One: Reading It Through
Day Two: Act Two
Day Three: Reading Act Two
Day Four: Talking It Through
Day Five: Blocking Act Two
Day Six: Act Two Redux
Day Seven: Reading Act Three
Day Eight: The Da Gooper Code
Day Nine: The Laying On of Hands
Day Ten: Pictures and Pages
Day Eleven: Onstage
Day Twelve: Memory
Day Thirteen: The Quickie
Day Fourteen: The Lines
Day Fifteen: Act III Anxiety
Day Sixteen: Let's Just Get It Right
Day Seventeen: Molding the Gooper
Day Eighteen: Goopercalypse
Day Nineteen: There Is Not A Doctor In The House
Day Twenty: Back to Words
Day Twenty-One: Getting Technical
Day Twenty-Two: We're Ready When You Are
Day Twenty-Three: Socks
Day Twenty-Four: Our First Audience
Day Twenty-Five: Calamity

Performances

Day Twenty-Six: Opening Night
Day Twenty-Seven: Second Night
Day Twenty-Eight: The Show You Saw
Day Twenty-Nine: Brush-Up
Day Thirty: Back to Work
Day Thirty-One: A Spreading Plague
Day Thirty-Two: Cast Party
Day Thirty-Three: The Cast Gift
Day Thirty-Four: Slapstick
Day Thirty-Five: Dinner and A Show
Day Thirty-Six: Curtain Call

Night of January 16th

Auditions
First Night
Second Night
Third Night
Fourth Night


Rehearsals

Marking the Floor
Readthrough
Walking and Talking
Cramming
J'Accuse
Script Work
'Go and Do Likewise, Gents'
End of Second Week
Line Trouble
Dusting Off Act One
Act Three Lines
Our First Friday
Getting Serious
Drama!
Eggshells
Friday Through Sunday
Act Two Redux
Punching a Cop Is Bad, Right?
My Big Speech
Clock is Ticking
Countdown: Seven Rehearsals
Countdown: Six Rehearsals
Countdown: Five Rehearsals
Countdown: Four Rehearsals
Countdown: Three Rehearsals
Extra Drama
Countdown: Two Rehearsals
The Last Rehearsals
Biding Time

Performances

First Show
Second Show
Third Show
Rehearsal Party
Fourth Show
Fifth Show
Last Show

The Murder Game

Audition
Day One: Starting Up the Play
Day 2: Blocking Act One
Days 3 & 4: Blocking Act Two
Day 5: Back To Act One
Days 6 & 7: Act Two Details
Day 8: Act Two Again
Day 9: Act One From Memory
Day 10: Pictures and Lines
Day 11: Act One Fragments
Day 12: Act two Fragments
Day 13: Stumbling
Day 14: Scattered
Day 15: Conquering
Day 16: A New Stage
Day 17: The First Sunday
Day 18: She Needs to Calm Down
Day 19: We Can't Dance
Days 20 and 21: Tech
Day 22: Costumes
Day 23: Finding a Groove
Day 24: An Audience
Day 25: First Show
Day 26: Second Show
Day 27: Third Show
Day 28: Last Rehearsal
Day 29: Fourth Show
Day 30: Fifth Show
Day 31: Last Show and Cast Party

The Trial of Ebenezer Scrooge

Auditions

Rehearsals One and Two

Rehearsal Three

Rehearsal Four: No Shows

Rehearsals Five and Six: Change and Concern

Rehearsal Seven: Hello Again

Rehearsal Eight: A Bad Night

Rehearsal Nine: Cold Comfort

Rehearsal Ten: What the Hell?

Rehearsal Eleven: The Absolute Nadir

Rehearsal Twelve: Toil

Rehearsal Thirteen: Stagecraft

Rehearsal Fourteen: Bad Move

Rehearsal Fifteen: Sick Sick Sick

Rehearsal Sixteen: Tech

Countdown: Four Nights

Countdown: Three Nights

Countdown: Two Nights

Open Dress Rehearsal

First Show

Second Show

Third Show

Refreshing

Fourth Show

The Last Two Shows

Mama's Almost Birthday (directing)

An Offer

Almost Beginnings

Sign Me Up

Another Page Done

Officially Official

New Music and Directing

Small Stuff

Wonder Women

Making Notes

Almost

Auditions

Making the Call

My Brain is Dumb

Back On Track

One Step Back

The Weekend Before

Readthrough

Developmental Work

Fixing the Books

First Rehearsal

Second Rehearsal

Prop Shopping

Third Rehearsal

Sudden Hopes

Oh, Right

Crash and Burn

The Curtain Comes Down

Game Face

Long Weekend

Home Stretch

Rage

All We Did Was Kick Ass

So Much Occurs

This is Why I Don't Teach

Almost Done Almost Starting

Theatre Doings

Starting With a Readthrough

Keep It Moving

New Technology

Lots of Much

One Rehearsal This Week

Working Holiday

Glee and Gratitude

Smoothing the Fur

Not My Job

Someone Had To Do It

Only Nine More Times

Getting Better

A Day Off

Last Rehearsal

First Show

Second Show

Third Show

Mid-Week Rehearsal

Showdown

Tranquility

Day Thirty-Six: Curtain Call

It's snowing like mad when I drive into town, and my first concern is a possible postponement of the last performance. Will I have to delay the much-needed haircut? Will we do that show this week? But no, the show goes on.

A teacher buddy of my wife asks to use one of our complimentary passes, and when I try to explain this to the lobby volunteer, it's like a Groucho Marx skit. She's old and ornery. She thinks I'm scamming her. When I tell her the guy's last name, she asks me to spell it and then gives me shit for pronouncing it wrong. I tell her that's how he pronounces it. She gives me the eye. This is the face of the theatre for the community? Granny McAsshole? No wonder we can't sell out the show. Then when I tell her I'm in the play, oh, how her tenor changes. So now she's politely condescending. I mentally debate whether I'm willing to perform with blood dripping from my hands as I head backstage.

The stage manager points out the Spider-Gooper sketch on the wall and shows me her Spidey t-shirt. It's exactly like one I have. A hundred cool points to her. After warm-ups she asks us to sign cards to the stage, lighting, and costume designers. She also gives the cast personal notes and birthday candles to commemorate each day. It's a nice gesture, and her words are humbling. To fill out my obligation to the art board, I draw the Incredible Hulk as Big Daddy. It goes over well. There's a sad note of ending to everything. As we apply our make-up, we pack the items away. As soon as we're onstage, the assistant costumer takes away our extra hangers. We're closing up shop as the show moves along. Daddy calls this the "evaporation show," meaning the lines vanish as we say them. I don't know. I remember bits from my previous plays, and if I had to re-learn a character, I think I could do it within a week. Maybe not, though.

Backstage, the littlest girl mentions my weird eyes and I do the lazy-eye trick for her (I can switch which eye I'm looking through, and the other rolls off to the side.). She thinks it's cool and demands I show it to the other Gooper daughter. That one's trying to act like a teenager and pretends to be disinterested. The reverend and the doctor almost miss their cue for Act I offstage lines and practically run to the wings. It's a sizable and responsive crowd for a Sunday. Not a dominance of bluehairs. I wonder how many of them tried to reach through the box-office window and slay the ticket lady.

In Act II, Daddy repeats a bit of dialogue, and it sounds like he jumped the gun. Maybe he's feeling a little loose because it's the last show. It doesn't feel like the last one, personally. Except for the cleaning business backstage, there's no sign that this is a grand finale. I'm used to doing 12 performances in a run, not 9, and I only possess a notion of relief that I'll have my weekends free again. I know I'll miss working with this cast. We didn't get close personally, but we were a tight corps onstage.

Act III swims along, and we get a partial standing ovation. Mae and Daddy gesture to the light booth to acknowledge their efforts for making the show work. The curtain closes, and we say our mutual congrats. The cast presents Brick with a joke book backstage. During his big Act II monologue, he admits to the closeness of his friendship with Skipper. He mentions how they used to hug, how they would reach across the space between hotel beds to shake hands goodnight, and he says "maybe one or two times, we --" before Daddy cuts him off. Mama and Maggie started a notebook of what he may have been about to say, and cast filled it with filthy innuendo. Thats our gift to him.

In our dressing rooms, we start to disassemble the roles, and trade notes on new projects. Brick is working in Waiting for Godot. Mama will direct 'Night, Mother. I never learn if Mae got a part in Fourth Grade Nothing. Me, I 'm gonna make mini-comics, go back to the gym, and make that painting to fill the living room wall. I've cleared out space in the garage to paint, and my wife bought me a swank easel last year to get me started.

But before we leave, we have to strike the set. It doesn't take long at all. Maybe 90 minutes, and the majority of that is taking apart the set walls. The crew hand out drills with screwdriver attachments, size up the abilities of the cast volunteers, and point us to appropriate jobs. I move 12-foot styrofoam columns, which I learn came from a movie set. I help to take apart doorways and remove brick facades, separate the columns from their bracings, take apart wall molding, and move pipe weights out of the canvas drop behind the stage.

I've got the Super Bowl on TiFaux, and some pals are coming over tonight to watch. They won't start the game til I get home, and when I see that it's 7 p.m., I have to go. Luckily, we're essentially through. The next play stage construction will start soon. I thank the designers for letting me help, and they thank me for staying. That's when I notice I'm the only actor left. The set designer tells me about the season-ending comedy play coming up; his friend wrote it and it sounds good. The stage manager asks me to come back for more shows, and I tell her the comedy sound like my next best bet. We hug goodbye, I run backstage to get my stuff, and run out the door to get to my car, drive the hour home, and start the game with Your Sis and pals. I got beer, snacks galore, last-performance notes to share, and a a full evening of TV. It's a good ending to the day, a good ending to the play.

And to this journal, I suppose.

Previous entires
Day One: Reading It Through
Day Two: Act Two
Day Three: Reading Act Two
Day Four: Talking It Through
Day Five: Blocking Act Two
Day Six: Act Two Redux
Day Seven: Reading Act Three
Day Eight: The Da Gooper Code
Day Nine: The Laying On of Hands
Day Ten: Pictures and Pages
Day Eleven: Onstage
Day Twelve: Memory
Day Thirteen: The Quickie
Day Fourteen: The Lines
Day Fifteen: Act III Anxiety
Day Sixteen: Let's Just Get It Right
Day Seventeen: Molding the Gooper
Day Eighteen: Goopercalypse
Day Nineteen: There Is Not A Doctor In The House
Day Twenty: Back to Words
Day Twenty-One: Getting Technical
Day Twenty-Two: We're Ready When You Are
Day Twenty-Three: Socks
Day Twenty-Four: Our First Audience
Day Twenty-Five: Calamity
Day Twenty-Six: Opening Night
Day Twenty-Seven: Second Night
Day Twenty-Eight: The Show You Saw
Day Twenty-Nine: Brush-Up
Day Thirty: Back to Work
Day Thirty-One: A Spreading Plague
Day Thirty-Two: Cast Party
Day Thirty-Three: The Cast Gift
Day Thirty-Four: Slapstick
Day Thirty-Five: Dinner and A Show

Day Thirty-Five: Dinner and A Show

Brick has a line in Act III when he walks back onstage and pours himself a drink. He doesn't realize for a while that everyone has watched him silently. He looks around and says "I'm sorry. Anyone else?" It's a small joke line. Today, we arrive to find he has given us all small Maker's mark whiskey bottles with his line taped to them. It's a good idea.

Your Sis and I eat dinner at The Noodle Shop a few blocks over from the theatre, and I overhear the waiter talking to another patron about Brick. I pipe up to say I'm in the show, and the waiter, it turns out, has worked with Brick and our director at the Asheville theatre. We trade some shop notes during the dinner. Your Sis is catching Romeo and Juliet tonight, and we have a dessert date for after our shows.

I put in my order for the official pictures. Only three: two of Gooper and one cast photo. I brought The Power Of One, a South African novel with me tonight. The stage manager assures us backstage that the stereo feedback problem won't happen again.

It's a big and responsive crowd tonight. Maybe our best yet. One of Mae's real daughters demands I add to the art bulletin board. She's slapped up a dozen drawings, and I only have two. I post up a Spider-Man sketch and given him some Gooper dialogue. She also assures me later that the magnets can count as new art. During Act II, Victoria has to leave suddenly, and she's replaced by one of teh backstage assistants. I show him what page we're on (the first time Ive looked at the script in about a week). About ten minutes later, Big Mama fails to make her third entrance of the act. The offstage managers can't leave to find out what's wrong. I walk around the green room, and I don't hear anything amiss. Sounds like she's in the dressing room. She just missed her cue. The actors onstage handle it smoothly.

Act III goes much better than last night, and the crowd is awfully appreciative during the curtain call. You can tell who has family in the crowd when they take their bow. Maggie, Mama, and Daddy walk out, and the audience seems to double in size. Even if it weren't family and friends out there, they deserve that kind of response. They worked hard tonight. The curtain closes on us, and Mama tells Daddy and Brick how she missed her cue. All I can think of is "just one more time." Then I change quickly to meet my honey for cake and beer.

Previous entires
Day One: Reading It Through
Day Two: Act Two
Day Three: Reading Act Two
Day Four: Talking It Through
Day Five: Blocking Act Two
Day Six: Act Two Redux
Day Seven: Reading Act Three
Day Eight: The Da Gooper Code
Day Nine: The Laying On of Hands
Day Ten: Pictures and Pages
Day Eleven: Onstage
Day Twelve: Memory
Day Thirteen: The Quickie
Day Fourteen: The Lines
Day Fifteen: Act III Anxiety
Day Sixteen: Let's Just Get It Right
Day Seventeen: Molding the Gooper
Day Eighteen: Goopercalypse
Day Nineteen: There Is Not A Doctor In The House
Day Twenty: Back to Words
Day Twenty-One: Getting Technical
Day Twenty-Two: We're Ready When You Are
Day Twenty-Three: Socks
Day Twenty-Four: Our First Audience
Day Twenty-Five: Calamity
Day Twenty-Six: Opening Night
Day Twenty-Seven: Second Night
Day Twenty-Eight: The Show You Saw
Day Twenty-Nine: Brush-Up
Day Thirty: Back to Work
Day Thirty-One: A Spreading Plague
Day Thirty-Two: Cast Party
Day Thirty-Three: The Cast Gift
Day Thirty-Four: Slapstick

Day Thirty-Four: Slapstick

It's a gamble to skip a line-through between performing weekends, even if you've been off-script for a month. I believe it's been a month to the day since we started rehearsing without the scripts. The concern isn't so much that you'll forget lines (although it's inexcusably possible) so much as you'll forget the rhythms. I mentioned last week that even though my brain could accept that no time had passed between performances, my muscles knew better. Tonight is a night we must chalk up to five days away.

I didn't look at the script since last weekend, and only then because my mind somehow forgot the word "eventualities" while I was reciting lines backstage. I don't like looking at the script as my mind takes new photographs of the script pages and erases what I had saved and used before. This smooths over the grooves in my head that allow my mental record-player to produce the lines. I also haven't run my lines since Sunday's show. My mind would start them during the time away, and I would turn the channel to anything else.

When I awoke today, though, I knew I needed to dust off those grooves, and I hit the shower and ran my first two acts' worth of lines. This takes less than two minutes. I didn't want to go through my Act Three lines until I was backstage and repeating my normal performance routine. Don't jostle the jukebox. Don't reinvent the wheel. Acting is habits.

After a surprise dinner date with Your Sis at a local burger joint, I went to the theatre and handed out the magnets. They went over well, I think, and people asked how I made them. The kid wrangler stated I had too much time on my hands. Yeah, I s'pose. The time away had left the kids with a surplus of energy, and they are virtually exploding with antsy volume. I feel pretty blase about going back onstage to start this last weekend. I feel no anxiety nor do I feel senior-itis to end the run. If I had more to do, I might feel the pinch of obligation. Even without reciting my Act III lines, I can feel them at the ready. You know the gangster movies where someone thumbs through a stack of bills and feels confident all the loot is there? That's what I feel like. But the time away, like I said, can make old movements feel awkward, and things go awry.

First, Big Mama has a door problem. She makes her appearance by trying to barge into Bricks bedroom. She grabs the doorknob and complains that it's locked. Before Maggie can unlock it and let her in, Mama walks around to the other bedroom door to enter. But tonight, Mama grabs the knob and the door jumps open on her. She doesn't manage to wiggle the knob in place. I'm standing offstage with her for my shouting lines, but I can't see any of this. I only know something's off when she tip-toes by and whispers "the fucking door came open." When she comes back offstage, she says it ruined her concentration, but she sounded fine to me. I try to reassure her.

When I get onstage in Act II, I see just how small a crowd we have. The snowy weather has kept folks away, and this is our smallest crowd since we opened. I get my lines out, carry the cake OK, and get off with no problem. I even finish my Tom Wolfe novel. But the crowd is detached from us, or rather we don't have the zest to win them. Big Daddy doesn't get the usual reactions. Our timing feels off, the show feels slow. Mae slips a line and says "Did you call for Big Gooper, Daddy?" That leads to some off-color jokes. When Brick falls to the floor in Act To, his glass breaks for the very first time. Daddy scoops up the pieces without missing a beat, but Victoria asks me to warn everyone backstage to be careful. We're somewhat used to watching the floor by now; we've stepped over ice puddles for two weeks now. By the time Act III rolls around, it feels like we're wearing Jacob Marley's chains.

First of all, someone in the sound booth goes crazy with a microphone and fiddles with the volume. This causes waves of hum feedback coming from the fake radio onstage. It's obvious to everyone in the theatre. We're practically yelling over it. We're all shooting looks to figure out how we can walk over to improv a reason to disconnect it. It's all we can do to keep ourselves from stopping the show cold and asking them to fix it. No one does, and eventually it dies down. But it rattles Mama, and she drops a line. Mae covers well, and we move on. But the show feels like it has no life despite our proper projection and emotional marks. And when we take our bows, and the curtain closes, I'm ready for hard liquor.

I do have to mention though that the reverend and doctor nailed their lines tonight. It made the murmured onstage banter between the three of us a little lighter.

Day One: Reading It Through
Day Two: Act Two
Day Three: Reading Act Two
Day Four: Talking It Through
Day Five: Blocking Act Two
Day Six: Act Two Redux
Day Seven: Reading Act Three
Day Eight: The Da Gooper Code
Day Nine: The Laying On of Hands
Day Ten: Pictures and Pages
Day Eleven: Onstage
Day Twelve: Memory
Day Thirteen: The Quickie
Day Fourteen: The Lines
Day Fifteen: Act III Anxiety
Day Sixteen: Let's Just Get It Right
Day Seventeen: Molding the Gooper
Day Eighteen: Goopercalypse
Day Nineteen: There Is Not A Doctor In The House
Day Twenty: Back to Words
Day Twenty-One: Getting Technical
Day Twenty-Two: We're Ready When You Are
Day Twenty-Three: Socks
Day Twenty-Four: Our First Audience
Day Twenty-Five: Calamity
Day Twenty-Six: Opening Night
Day Twenty-Seven: Second Night
Day Twenty-Eight: The Show You Saw
Day Twenty-Nine: Brush-Up
Day Thirty: Back to Work
Day Thirty-One: A Spreading Plague
Day Thirty-Two: Cast Party
Day Thirty-Three: The Cast Gift

Snow Day

A forecast of heavy winter stuff all across our section of the state ended with a whimper Thursday. While Mayberry got a nice heaping of snow, Asheville didn't. I go to stay home with Your Sister anyhow. We had Mexcian lunch and a snowball fight after a quick trip to the school to attend to her classroom. Then she slept. And you are shocked.

I fiddled around in my workshop for a bit before he hunkered down on the couch to watch TiFaux material, including Jeffrey, the adaptation of Paul Rudnick's early-90s play about a gay man terrified of dealing with AIDS. It's got a great cast, filled with Hey-I-Know-Those-Guys. Then we finally saw the Scientology episode of "South Park." Your Sis is slowly being converted to this show.

As the play wraps up this weekend, I'll tackle some back-burner events like going to the gym again and working on mini-comics and the big painting. But Sunday night is for the Super Bowl, which I'll TiFaux and watch in toto.

Picture of the Day
I want this shirt.


In The News
The Aqua Teen Hunger Bombs is a pretty big story in my online communities. You've heard far more about it than I have, I'm sure, but the consensus among the level-headed geeks is that the sign-placers should have gotten permits, and the larger company should have expected a reaction like that of Boston, but the Boston authorities are playing the indignant "national security" card to cover their zealous paranoia. Granted, Boston is the home to Logan Airport, and if any location has a right to be a bit jumpy, it's Logan. But this didn't happen at Logan. In fact, it happened all over the country, and Boston is the only place to call in the bomb quad for the equivalent of Lite-Brites. The lesson: Everyone was a little stupid here.

Bad Business

Some of the laminated cards are coming apart again. I could call the company to complain, but they already have my money, and I won't accept their offer to redo the cards. They don't deserve a third try to get it right. A member of one of my message boards works at a local office supply store and informed me they can provide me decent laminated cards quickly, and they're right down the street, conveniently enough. So I'll call him at work today and order a batch to replace the failed cards.

That first company is an offshoot of a printer we use at work, and I'm going to suggest we --

Hold on, I got my dander up explaining this. I just called the parent company to complain. I called them on the cell phone and talked to a project manager who works with us. I told him that I was calling as me and not a representative of our office. I explained what happened, told him where I was taking the cards today, and suggested they look at the lamination process. He was good about it, and he wants to see the bad cards so they can determine what went wrong. No hard feelings with the parent company at all. But I'm still going to OfficeMax to get new cards, and it might all be done before I head back home today.

I'd also like to take this moment to register my astonishment over magnetic tape. This -- I just -- MAGNETIC TAPE.

Picture of the Day
This is so foul and alien as to be strangely alluring.