It Kinda Ended

The script meeting was something we all enjoyed as the final assembly. We were given two potential season syllabuses. One was what we voted for in the last meeting; the other began with a comedy. We briefly discussed the comedy suggestion, and it won out for a variety of reasons. I'm ultimately happy about it. I like the show as a close cousin of the Neil Simon shows that were killed in the scoring rounds.

The promotional brochure will include listings for three unnamed shows. We know what they are, of course, but we're holding off that information for now. If the season schedule has to change because of costs or location, we won't be locked into infeasible productions. We can change them out with other approved shows.

We've done what we can without definitively knowing where the plays will be held, how much money the theatre will have, and what directors will be tapped. Those concerns arose in our talks, but they're not part of our mandate. We just had to pick the best plays. The result is not a season each of us would have assembled, but it's one we all like.

The question of me directing came up, and again, it was noted that they need me onstage more. Also, I was asked to co-direct a play to get my feet wet. I officially became theatre publicity director. Seems like a fairly easy job. I'll write and send press releases to the local papers. I know how that gig works.

It was our shortest meeting. We're well aware that there will be unhappy, vocal theatre folk who wanted a certain show or type of show represented. I'm willing, and probably too eager, to defend our decisions to anyone. We read a total of 60 plays. I have another one in hand to read even though it has no chance to making this season; the director wanted my opinion on it. We worked. We came up with a marketable season. With limited venues and budget, we have a solid slate of productions.

6 Rms Riv Vu
Trial of Ebenezer Scrooge
Premature Corpse
Don't Dress for Dinner
Rainmaker
Winnie the Pooh
Bell, Book, and Candle
Christmas Bus

Picture of the Day
So there.

It Shall Never Ever Ever Ever End. Ever.

While we were still squatting in your apartment Saturday, I got a call from our script chair. He wanted to talk about the committee and new developments, and I told him my brain was on vacation. I was also re-reading Watchmen. Priorities.

I called him about an hour after we returned Sunday. He has second thoughts about the opening show (a thriller) after fellow board members pressed hard for a comedy. We had all talked about a comedy, but the best candidate was deemed too dated. It was a play I advocated and grudgingly voted against when it came time to make our final choices. Also, he has found yet another script to pass around. Even if we dismiss this new script, we'll still need to rearrange the proposed season if we change the first play. We can't have three comedies for the season's beginning. We meet tonight to hammer this out and get the new script. Rah.

I think I mentioned that I was offered the publicity manager position during the last meeting. The second half of yesterday's phone call was for the new offer to be the assistant artistic director. It's a big gig. This makes the fifth offer since the murder play: script committee member, director, board member, publicity manager, and now assistant artistic director.

I worry about being seen as the director's guy. A lackey. I need to talk with more members of this theatre and get more experience before I take another position. He was very complimentary though. My pickle was buttered like never before.

We did get back OK. We did the laundry and got groceries when we ran into two students who asked Your Sister about the Clone Wars movie. One had seen it ("I left in tears."), and the other hadn't. We warned him away. We watched some Olympics and crashed early.

Because of constant rain, my garden is much larger. We have real sunflowers now. The squash vines are looking sinister.

Picture of the Day
One of Jupiter's moons, Europa. Probably the next best spot for water after mars.

We're En Route

Right after I leave work. We packed last night and led a neighbor through the care of the cats and garden. I have four books and a sketchbook, and we overpacked the clothes for fear of sand invasion. I'd like to take at least one run along the beach. I intend to swim in the ocean every day we're in the Outer Banks. I'll carry brass knuckles in case I have to punch a shark.

Mark is eager to catch the new Star Wars movie, and a post-film conversation about the franchise can go on for days.

Picture of the Day
Countdown to launch.

In Through the Out Door (Out Door)

I picked up what will hopefully be the last script last night: the musical version of It's A Wonderful Life.

It was written in 1993, and it demands you know the story before you watch the show. Significant things don't happen onstage, and the cardinal sin of "telling, not showing" happens often. The near-drowning, the near-poisoning, the high school dance, every heartbreaking moment where George doesn't get to leave town -- we miss the good stuff.

The play then is a thin scaffolding for the new songs, and the lyrics ain't nothing to write home about. It's been a while since I read a full-length musical script (probably when I was in Sound of Music) but this sucker feels awkwardly designed. The first act is 60 pages long; the second act is 30. That's a LONG first act for an audience that doesn't know the songs, and the songs don't tell the story either. They are Greek choruses of emotional definition.

I like musicals. Good musicals. Without hearing the songs, I can't vouch for this one. It seems like a bad idea. Why not do the straight play? Because a local theatre already does a radio-staging of the play. It doesn't seem smart to compete with that, especially when we have The Trial of Ebenezer Scrooge, a sterling comedy version of Christmas Carol.

We are preparing the Big Trip at home. Your Sis cooked out again, and the dinner was delish. But as I was helping her carrying food outside the house, I kinda sorta tackled the screen door. It's stuck and stubbornly moved for a while now, and last night we had to take it off the house entirely to fix it. We managed that, and now it works better than before.

We watched new Mythbusters and some Daily Show and Colbert.

I also rigged up the garden hoses for the gal housesitting for us. I attached a timer to the spigot and attached a double spout to that. That attaches to two hoses and two sprinklers. But we don't have enough pressure to power two hoses simultaneously. The timer will be useless for her, but she can flip the spout control knobs to switch from one hose to another. This will water the whole garden without her moving one sprinkler to cover the plants.

I found a great belt buckle online for my saior costume. I still need a parrot.

Picture of the Day
I can't decide if these are lame or cool.

Grab a Lunch. I'm Babbling.

We held what was supposed to be the very absolute, no-matter-what final script meeting last night, and, of course, things aren’t finished.

The problem revolves around the Christmas show, a show we were told initially we didn’t have to worry about. In the standard season for this company, there is one musical in the summer designed to include the kids between school semesters. This dovetails at times with the theatre’s youth “camp.” Also in the season is the Christmas show, and it was specifically not in our catalog of open slots to fill with our chosen scripts. Until about a month ago.

Amongst the committee members is the woman who is nominally in charge of both the annual kids’ show and the Christmas shows. The kids' show also takes place during the summer as a sort of community babysitting project. They just did Velveteen Rabbit wherein the talking horse commands the audience to chant “find the rabbit.” Your Sister and I, however, chanted “find Bob Cratchitt” and “find Bob Saget.” If either of them had appeared onstage, the show would have won 1 million cool points. Alas.

But again, we’re back to the Christmas show. About a month ago, she decided she couldn’t make the decision by herself, and the committee was passively drafted to help. This added another show and the accompanying round of reading for each script to consider. The first was The Trial of Ebenezer Scrooge. It’s a fun play and, if we can get the rights, a lock to run this year or next. The other holiday script was The Christmas Bus which I read this past week. It’s strictly for a young audience, and I am too old and bitter to embrace it. Two Christmas scripts. Two Christmas slots to fill for this year and next. Seems like a no-brainer.

However.

Because Bus is a musical, the Christmas director said she didn’t like the idea of director two youth-centered musicals in one year, including the youth show that would run the preceding summer. This is what she said, and I have to couch it this way because what she said changed as the meeting went on, which is why I want to punch a horse.

We’re trying to mount the best season possible. We need money to renovate the new building. We want to grab the largest audience we can. That means we need shows with name power. As one of our brainstorms, we suggested that, instead of a traditional Christmas show, we instead present a show that has Christmas in it, but isn’t about the holiday. That would include Bell, Book and Candle (a witchcraft comedy), My Three Angels (a kinder Marx Brothers-style comedy), or Annie.

Now, Annie is a show that draws a crowd both onstage and off. Little girls love the show. They love to be in the show. The show is so popular that there’s an Annie Junior show designed to be easier for kids who aren’t quite ready to star in a full-fledged stage show. I know of no other show with an official tyke-friendly version. We’re talking a popular franchise here.

But the Christmas director said that the bylaws demanded a Christmas show be a Christmas show. It has to center on the holiday, she says. That drops the above three shows. But she so likes the idea of doing Annie that she’s willing to junk the summer youth show if we can do Annie for the Christmas show. She was almost giddy at the notion. But what about that bylaw? Well, that could be ignored, she supposes. Conveniently, I might add. So what about the other two plays, Candle and Angels? She doesn’t like them. Says they’re not family–friendly. I agree on Angels; it involves murder by snake. And Candle is a show for adults but hardly vulgar or shocking. It’s just not a show that will placate the children. We even considered moving The Rainmaker to Christmas. Rename it The Reindeer Maker. The Snowmaker. No, she wants Annie as the Christmas show, and we’ll shrug off the bylaw (if it exists; a quick read of regulations didn’t produce it).

But the committee chair isn’t convinced we can do that. Instead, we are now reading a third Christmas play, the musical version of It’s A Wonderful Life. No, I didn’t know one existed either. There is a problem here. One of the Asheville theatres has staged a radio version of that play for two consecutive years, and I am 80 percent positive it has become their annual tradition. Script publishers restrict the distribution of their plays. If there is one publisher of the Life script and this other show has it annually, we can’t do it. We’re too close to them geographically.

Despite this very significant hang-up, we are passing around the script. Because I leave for vacation in two days, I get first crack. I pick it up from the theatre warehouse tonight, read the whole thing by Thursday evening, and drop it off before we leave town Friday morning. I’m not happy about this. This will be my thirty-ninth script this summer. It’s a play we probably can’t get the rights for, and we already have two Christmas plays in hand to cover this year and next. We’re doing someone else’s job because she doesn’t like the regulations she agreed to nor can she be definitive about her preferences about the shows we already have.

I suspect she’s mad because her favorite show didn’t make the cut. Early on, she espoused A Perfect Wedding, a wedding farce which just happens to be dull and aggravating. It’s written by the same man who wrote Don’t Dress for Dinner, a much stronger farce, and the one I vocally advocated. She and I butted heads about this in previous meetings. But the committee consensus agreed with me, and Wedding is out.

Here’s what we picked, and this is all tentative to location, director, and rights granted by the publishers. We picked alternates for those reasons:

October: Night Watch, a fairly contemporary thriller. It would be presented around Halloween. The Mousetrap would be the back-up. Both plays have simple sets, convenient for our pre-renovation stage space. There’s concern about what shows our pool of directors will agree to, and I was asked if I wanted to direct this show if need be. I again cited my rookie status to this theatre, and there’s no fucking way I’m helming a show in a new space so desperate for repairs. This would be a situation I can write a farce around. And I might.

December: Trial of Ebenezer Scrooge or Christmas Bus or It’s A Wonderful Life. Again, all this is in the air until we either settle the bylaw debate or secure rights for two of the plays. And again, this wasn't part of our job to begin wth.

January: This would run in the gated community where we presented the spring murder show. Apparently, that audience loves farces in winter and can be depended on to buy lots of tickets. Don’t Dress for Dinner is our first choice, followed by Home Free (an affair-juggler with the rare female lead).

March: The same stage would have a mystery/thriller. The Premature Corpse (the modern-day noir) or Murder By Natural Causes would get the nod.

May: The theatre holds an annual new play competition and presents the world premiere of the winning script. Another committee handles that honor.

July: Either the youth show, the annual musical, or neither depending on what happens with the #!%@ Christmas show.

August: The Rainmaker or My Three Angels. I was told flat out that I can’t direct Rainmaker because I need to be in the show. I’m cool with that. Starbuck is a great role.

October: Bell, Book & Candle or Critic’s Choice (a sharp marriage/career comedy). This would be the first show in the completed new building. We need a show to flaunt the new digs. These would do that.

December: To be decided later.

A lot of good shows didn’t make the cut. We have been told that we’ll catch shit for shows that were promised for this year’s season by the previous committee. That’s outside their purview, but I’m sure some vocal folks will want Glass Menagerie or a similar dour drama that allows hams to yell and cry onstage. But the shows we picked have enough meat to them to satisfy open-minded actors.

We’re mostly done. We should be completely done. I’d like to start my vacation with this all behind me. That’s not going to happen now. Therefore, I shall drink a lot.

EDIT: Forgot to mention. I was asked about attending Board of Director meetings at noon (could I get off work to meet?) and becoming the new publicity director. I said I had to mull them over.

Picture of the Day
I have to cram my mouth full to keep from yelling.

Don't Take Your Guns to Town

I drove all through downtown Asheville to find costume props. The old reliable costume-rental shop under the interstate on-ramp is no more, replaced by The Daily Planet. That would be a fantastic paper name if it weren't a weekly. Which it is.

Also, the nature store in the Grove Arcade is gone. I need to find a parrot stand-in. Something that isn't obviously a sleeptime snuggle toy. I realized that we can use paintball and pellet-gun holsters, and they are both available at large department stores. K-mart gave us one holster, and I need another of the same kind for my musket. We're a bit worried about the weapons regulations for the city and the convention. We've seen hundreds of folks carrying weapons in years passed. The online rules say this:

Please abide by our weapons policy: All weapons must be non-working and peace bonded. No functioning projectile weapons includes water pistols, silly-string guns, and ping-pong pistols. Bladed weapons must be cased or sheathed at all times. No clowning around or showing off in the common areas. Any weapon used in an offensive manner will be confiscated and rule #7 enforced [roughly: don't be a jerk or we'll chuck you]. We expect you to use good judgment; with your help, we can continue to allow peace-bonded weapons - thanks!

We have an obvious toy gun for her and an orange-barreled musket for me. I don't think we'll have to adapt them. Also, we don't have to wield them. So long as they fill the holsters. I still need a leg-holster as the toy design commands. And of course, the parrot. We'll bury the toys in our backpacks as we move through the Atlanta subway system. We have seen Klingons carrying their cardboard swords. But they're Klingons. You don't ef' with Klingons.

Speaking of which: the Great Debate has emerged. Who would win in an all-out fight: Starfleet or The Empire? I say Empire. Bureaucracy would stymie Starfleet. Also, one borg ship almost wiped out humanity, and the Empire can make Death Stars.

The giant national comic convention a few weekends back featured some women dressed as the same character, but they half-assed it. Behold:





The gals in green are close, but they together might make a decent costume. They are both wearing jumpsuits. Your Sister, however, has a flight suit. BIG difference. She has the hat, has the pilot pin, has the holster and gloves and boots. She's going to embarrass any other Lady Jayne who might dare approach us. Also, she looks like the character. That's the superior playing card. Too many gals go to conventions dressed as vampy versions of characters. They are infidels. Hot, trashy infidels.

+ + +

I mowed the lawn yesterday in this hair-melting heat. The garden is still OK, and I'll need to stake the tomato plants before we leave for vacation. I have a splinter from a squash plant. Some varieties are packing nasty thorns for the vines to cling.

Picture of the Day
I'm eager to swim on vacation. I haven't swum since the Washington bed-and-breakfast. A year ago.

Hauling and Dolling

I rented a U-Haul truck to pick up the Granny piano on Saturday. When one calls to make the truck reservation, one supposes the truck will be at that dialed location. No. I was called Friday and told where the truck would be. This is only a problem because U-Haul charges by the mile when you surpass the initial allowed distance. The place I called was much closer to Louis's house. This new location was a few exits up the interstate.

I've driven their trucks before when I went to ECU and from houses to apartments and vice versa. It's easy once you gets used to the mirrors. And how they handle in wind. Otherwise, a cake of piece.

Mom was running the Louis yard sale, and we arrived midway through the festivities. The garage and its (literal) pile of tools was very popular, but folks were milling in the house to bid for whatever was available. We dragged out the piano with the help of some very big guys, and I spent about 20 minutes lashing it to the truck interior with cords and tarps.

Louis had a stack of great 33 rpm albums, ranging from gospel to Bill Cosby to Johnny Cash Fulsom Prison disc to music for strip-tease parties. I'm not kidding. I hovered over the albums with mom's cousin, and we tried to tell her they would sell. Sure enough, the very next guy to look at the records carried the Cash album in his hand. Louis's record-player wasn't working right or I might have nabbed that contraption.

We left the truck at his house and hit the military surplus stores in our Greenville for the DragonCon cotumes. We hit paydirt. Your Sis picked up a flightsuit and leather boots; the latter can be used with her scooter. I picked up the sailor hat. At another store, we found my navy shirt and pants and some sleeve patches we'll modify to match the toy. At yet another store, we found a pilot pin and more patches. We drove back to my hometown to meet Mom for dinner. We fetched the truck and drove back up the mountain.

Now we knew handling a piano ourselves was a big job. A huge job. But we gots the brains, and we have yet to fail at a project. Until now. We almost almost had it in the garage entrance to the house, but the garage wall angle was harsh enough to block it. I mean, we had it up the makeshift ramp, and the front wheels were tasting the conditioned air. That close. We tried to get it up the front stoop, but the angle is too high. We stopped before we hurt ourselves, either through exercise or butting heads. The piano now sits in our storage room, and we're hiring piano movers to master the last 50 feet of this project. I moved a bookcase away from the proposed piano space last night.

While I was doing that, Your Sis made alterations to the costume pieces. She tightened the large flight suit and hemmed the Navy pants. She put a lot of time into that last night while I watched the first exhibition game of the NFL season. She spent the earlier chunk of the day at school while I worked on my feeble tan.

She left home early today to sign up for the motorcycle training class, and she got in. She's giddy. She bought her helmet a week ago in preparation.


I think it's a hot look.

More Garden Stuff

The garden took a giant leap this week. I fed the plants coffee grounds from Starbucks (free most mornings; first come, first serve) and we had respectable rains for the last week. Combined, they have Garden Power! After months of not much, suddenly we could actually eat from our backyard.

The first green pepper:




now looks like this:


Also, it's officially the "first" pepper, as other tiny ones are blooming.

+ + +

Our first squash plants have come in. These look like acorn squash (which, baked with brown sugar and a bit of rum is FANTASTIC): I didn't know squashes grew from the bulb under the blossom. Once the flowers die off, the bulbs swell.



This might be butternut squash. I planted from a medley seed packet, and there's no telling what we're going to ultimately grow.

+ + +

This is the largest pumpkin plant. You can see the glove for scale. Pumpkins and other squash plants sprout vines and tiny tendrils hook them into place.

+ + +

Here's some corn stalks with the glove as scale. They have launched within this week.

+ + +

This was the patch where the wild berry bushes sat. I cleared them away to give me a decent garden corner, and I put in grass seed.



Now it looks like this. I got some ground cover mixed in, and that's fine. So long as it's not a dead swath.



Your Mom gave me grilling cedar planks for my birthday. I got my confirmation for the U-Haul rental for this weekend. We're bringing Granny's piano from Louis's house up to Mayberry. I'll need to take lessons to play it before the year is over.

Recipe

That script was indeed a quick read. I finished it in a half hour. I had plenty of time to troll about Barnes and Noble to drool over Broadway DVDs and magazines.

I made myself run for at least 35 minutes, and I think I reached a full 5k. I used the boot-camp jog to save my legs.

I made a pretty good dish last night using some of the curry your sent from Snazziland.

Here's how it works:

1/8 teaspoon of ground ginger
1/8 teaspoon of ground cumin
2 teaspoons of a curry powder
1 medium onion
2 pieces of meat (steak, pork, chicken)
1 cup sour cream or yogurt
1 cup of pineapple chunks

With a smidgen of oil, warm the meat for 15 minutes over medium heat. Drain the oil. Add the onion and 2 teaspoons of water. Sprinkle meat with salt. Heat to a boil and let simmer for 20 minutes. Remove the meat and keep warm. Add the cumin, ginger, curry, pineapple, and 1/4 cup of water. Bring to a boil until the majority of water is gone. Turn the heat down to simmer and add the yogurt/cream just until it gets hot. Remove and pour over chicken. I also added rice.

It's filling and yummy. I used the Tiakka curry.

Art News of the Day
New X-ray Technique Unveils Art Under Art

AMSTERDAM, Netherlands (AP) -- A team of European scientists unveiled on Wednesday a new method for extracting images hidden under old masters' paintings, recreating a color portrait of a woman's face unseen since Vincent van Gogh painted over it in 1887.

For years, art historians have been using x-rays to probe artworks hidden underneath other paintings, a technique resulting in a fuzzy, black-and-white image. But Joris Dik, a materials scientist from Delft University, and Koen Janssens, a chemist from the University of Antwerp in Belgium, combined science and art to engineer a new method of visualizing hidden paintings, using high-intensity x-rays and an intimate knowledge of old pigments.

The pair used the new approach on "Patch of Grass," a small oil study of a field that Van Gogh painted in Paris while living with his brother Theo, who supported him.

While not exact in every detail, the image produced is a woman's head that may be the same model Van Gogh painted in a series of portraits leading up to the 1885 masterpiece "The Potato Eaters."

The new method will allow art historians to obtain higher quality and more detailed images underlying old masterpieces. In Van Gogh's case, it could reveal details of works that were painted over. For other works, it could provide new insights into the studies that the artist built a painting on.

Dik and Janssens used high-intensity x-rays from a particle accelerator in Hamburg, Germany to compile a two-dimensional map of the metallic atoms on the painting beneath "Patch of Grass," which is part of the large Van Gogh collection in the Kroller-Muller Museum in the Netherlands.

Knowing that mercury atoms were part of a red pigment and the antimony atoms were part of a yellow pigment, they were able to chart those colors in the underlying image.

"We visualized - in great detail - the nose, the eyes, according to the chemical composition." Dik said. Scanning a roughly 7-inch square of the larger portrait took two full days.

Though his paintings are now worth millions, Van Gogh was virtually unknown during his lifetime and struggled financially before committing suicide in 1890. He often reused canvas to save money, either painting on the back or over the top of existing paintings, and experts believe roughly a third of his works hide a second painting underneath.

The painting under "Patch of Grass" adds weight to the theory that Van Gogh mailed paintings from the Netherlands to his brother Theo, and, after moving to Paris to join him, found the old works and painted over them.

Teio Meedendorp, an independent Van Gogh expert in Amsterdam, said the underlying woman was probably painted between November 1884 and March 1885, while Van Gogh was living in the Dutch village of Nuenen. In that period he painted a series of heads in what Meedendorp called "oil lamps and candlelight," followed by the famous "Potato Eaters" of April 1885.

Both Dik and Meedendorp were excited about the prospect of using the technique to probe paintings by Van Gogh and other famous artists such as Rembrandt and Picasso.

"I was really surprised by the quality of the image, which is really promising for the future of research," Meedendorp said.

However, scanning other paintings may be difficult since the technique requires a particle accelerator, and few exist in the world and none in the Netherlands.

Dik and Janssens' scientific paper was published online Wednesday in the Journal of Analytical Chemistry.

Apply Forehead to Wall. Repeat.

Last night's script meeting was a whole bunch of not much. With just two weeks to go before we have to announce at least the first show of the season, we were asked to select the top six shows among the handful of genres for us to produce. Six people, 36 picks in total.

Here was my personal list of finalists and the picks I announced last night and the number of votes they received last night.

Drama
The Glass Menagerie -- famous downer (4 votes total)

Dram-edy
The Rainmaker -- midwest romance (4 votes total)

Mystery/Suspense
The Mousetrap -- the most popular mystery play ever (3 votes total)
Premature Corpse -- modern noir (6 votes total)

Comedy
Bell, Book and Candle -- witchcraft romance (2 votes total)
Six Rms, Riv Vu -- Barefoot in the Park with cheating spouses (2 votes total)

At the end of our announced votes, we had named 15 shows. By next Tuesday, we have to whittle that down to six. We really and truly needed to become bloodthirsty this week. Ruthless and cruel. It was rough making my picks from the potential shows, and we all expressed surprise at what shows didn't make our cut.

In fact, some of us were so surprised by omissions that they insisted their favorites get a full reading by the remaining committee members. So, now, with one week before we make our final choices, we have, by my count, nine plays to be read by five members.

In addition, there are new considerations for the theatre renovation, and we still don't know exactly where our season will be performed. That will affect which shows we choose; about half our shows would be disqualified because they can't fit on the existing stage. Other shows we had already dismissed would be back in contention because they are easily staged. We simply aren't informed enough to confidently make the final list. We're stymied.

I've made a list of six shows that can be staged minimally AND can draw an audience. But I'm hitting opposition from a committee member who can't wrap her head around script adjustment. She said she dismissed one play because it includes a typewriter, and no one uses typewriters anymore. I was dumbstruck. We can do period shows. We can also update shows to a modern setting. We have options. That lack of creativity baffles me. I'm now worried about how many shows we've lost to this type of handcuffing.

I had high hopes for this week's meeting, and I'm deflated. I have one slim script to read as the 2009 Christmas show possibility. I think I'll be able to read it during lunch today. I won't be available to meet after next week. I believe we have to make our picks on Tuesday, the 5th. I hope we pick well. We're already braced for the backlash from the theatre regulars. But those folks can sign up for the committee next year.

Picture of the Day
My list is the best list since this guy came along.

Thinking Ahead

I found a website that sells surplus military equipment, and it could provide as much as half of our costumes and props. I also signed u up to walk in the annual DragonCon costume parade. It strolls through downtown Atlanta, and it consistently features hundred of costumed people.

I drove by the local surplus store and noted items we could use and the prices. Sometimes shopping for the stuff is as much fun as assembling the costume. Your Sis might use costume boots from the surplus store as part of her state-mandated motorcycle outfit. She's looking at helmets and jackets today while I'm at work.

We went by the lawyers this morning to update our wills. My Mom is about to hand Louis's house back to the bank instead of dealing with remaining payments and property tax. Her name isn't on the deed, and she has no financial obligation to it. We're driving down Saturday to pick up Granny's piano. It sat in his house after she died, and then I had it when I rented a house, and it went back to him when I moved into an apartment.

Man, I miss my first apartment. It as swank.

Anyway, I still have to go to the banks with Mom to sign off on account transfers. That will happen after our Outer Banks trip.

Picture of the Day
We all need naps.

We Have Plans

We avoided Belle Chere for another year. We instead drove to Hendersonville and watched the second Hellboy film. It took me a few years to like the first one; it veered far from the comic and injected a needless love story. The second movie hammers us with more love stories, and if not for a scene that rivals Mos Eisley for creativity, this film would be utterly disposable. It's a shame. We missed X-Files and Mama Mia for this. We were forced to drown our sorrows in fresh doughnuts before driving home.

Your Sis bought rope lights to attach to the deck railing, and she spent the weekend screw them in place. They look nice. She loves any excuse to use the power tools. I pruned the garden and applied Starbucks coffee grounds to the plants. She worked a lot at the school again Saturday and Sunday, ealving me with bachelor time. I polished off another play before Tuesday's meeting.

The big news is that we're going to DragonCon again, the annual geek fair in Atlanta. And we're going in costume as G.I. Joe characters.




We have staked out two local Army/Navy stores to find our costumes and props. I'll also hit toy stores for the parrot and musket. Your Sis will have an easy time assembling her outfit. The last time we attended DragonCon, we dressed as Lost characters. We always have a blast and return home ex-haus-ted. This will be a good little break between the first few days of school and the shank of the semester.

We've spent much couch time watching Mythbusters and MASH.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Haltingly. Sporadically.

I've noticed bug bites and black growth on the leaves, but some plants are doing well. Your Sister suspects they plants have too much water, but I'm disagree. It's just slow going.

My first intentional tomato




My first squash blossom




My first bell pepper

Script Out of Nowhere

And after all that, I'm getting another script this weekend. The committee chair got his hands on a script he's been curious about for a few weeks, read, it loved, it, and arranged for it to make the reading rounds before the next meeting. One person will not be able to read it -- the tired pessimist -- and I'm sure she'll be ecstatic to read a new play in the last week of deliberations. Thrilled. The chair says it's a quick read, one set, and can fit on the small stage from the Spring murder play. This means, of course, I must destroy it with my score.

I made my initial six picks this morning of the plays I prefer -- my own personal theatre season -- and I'll revise it each day until the meeting.

This is the finalist list. My initial picks are in bold.

Drama
A Trip to Bountiful -- downer
The Glass Menagerie -- better-known downer

Dram-edy
Crimes of the Heart -- Southern domestic travails
The Rainmaker -- midwest romance

Mystery
A Murder Is Announced -- Agatha Christie play with kooky maid
Murder By Natural Causes -- modern doctor murder plot
The House on the Cliff -- old-fashioned gothic play
The Mousetrap -- the most popular mystery play ever

Suspense
Night Must Fall -- English psychological thriller
Night Watch -- American '50s psychological thriller

Comedy
Bell, Book and Candle -- witchcraft romance
Critic’s Choice -- drama critic's wife writes a bad play
Home Free -- woman juggles two lovers
My Three Angels -- a kinder Marx Brothers
Six Rms, Riv Vu -- Barefoot in the Park with cheating spouses
Take a Number, Darling -- New York comedy of errors
The Trial of Ebenezer Scrooge -- Christmas Carol in a courtroom

Farce
Don’t Dress for Dinner -- spouses trade partners, try to hide affairs during dinner
Perfect Wedding -- the groom cheats in the bridal suite

Glass Menagerie and Rainmaker may be too similar; the daughters pine for love but don't know how to get it. I'll probably switch Rainmaker for Crimes of the Heart. It calls for more women in leading roles, and our theater can manage that.Yeah, we have to shelve the better plays because of our locale, audience, and capability. It sucks a bit.

Picture of the Day
An ad for opaque pantyhose.

Script Meeting

After a much easier interim period when I had just one play to read, we met last night to begin the wrap-up sessions. We've read from about 55 plays. Some were dropped after one person read them and scored them low. That's what happened this week. My play wasn't worth further consideration, and it was shelved. It's the best tact; we have to sort the plays we all like and choose our overall winners. We need to pick six plays in some combination of murders/suspense, comedies, farce, drama, and light drama. At the end of the meeting, we were given a list to score the remaining 25 plays. That gives us a week to individually choose the plays we prefer, and we'll meet next week to compare the lists.

Unfortunately, we have to consider the capability of the theatre for each play. Can we cast it? Can we mount it? Are there too many props or costumes? One of us, who just finished directing the annual kids show, is exhausted to the point of nihilism. She doesn't see much hope in the plays other than the ones she espouses (a drama and a farce). We've already butted heads over her farce choice. I think it's the weaker of two similar plays. She also continues to focus on how recently we've performed a play. She thinks we risk boring our audience with a recent rerun. However, we're also considering a recent survey where audiences told us what shows they wanted. The top vote-getter, The Moustrap, was performed eight years ago. Do we bring back a crowd-pleaser even if it's a relatively recent production? I say yes. Eight years offers a lot of audience-member turnover, and we need to make money this year. We need to do high-profile shows, and Mousetrap is the most popular mystery play ever produced.

The problem is we probably can't mount it until the end of the season when construction on the theatre space winds down. That space construction weighs heavily in our debate. The current building is essentially a shell and a floor. We need to replace everything -- wiring, stage, curtains, floors, bathrooms, etc. Because the season has to start soon, the above person wants to announce a comedy to start the season. And with a shrinking window to find a director, cast, rehearse, and perform the play, she wants to pick now. Luckily, we have a play that needs the barest of sets: an unfinished apartment. When presented with this, she plays the casting card. Who would act the roles of the young leads? I volunteer to do it. She's surprised. I unintentionally make a speech. In for a penny, in for a pound. If we like a play this much, we have to see it through. We have to pitch in. Also, it's a fun script. Why wouldn't I do it?

She did this last week too, calling my bluff on directing a play, and again I jumped at it. She's pooped. She just ran a play loaded with kids. We're not adversaries; I'm new enough to have an optimism unmolested by bureaucracy and backstage carping. We are on the opposite poles. She suspects a show can't be done. I suggest how we could.

What we're thinking now is this: We produce Bell, Book, and Candle for the October show. It's a comedy about witches and would run right at Halloween. Then we present the Trial of Ebeneezer Scrooge for the Christmas show. That's two light, fun shows to start the season. We save the drama for later in the season.

There's an arithmetic at work here, and I think we are, in general, trying to make the best season instead of pushing our personal faves. We've each seen a handful of advocated plays fall to the junkpile. We're very near to finishing this committee and cranking up the theatre machine. I have one play to read this week, and I'm halfway through. The others are exchanging plays to pad out the scores. I have read virtually everything already. I can take it easy.

I'm sincere about hopping into that apartment comedy if need be. There's even a role or two I could try in Bell, Book, and Candle. I'll be involved somehow in most plays this year. Just a question of how.

Picture of the Day
They're rehearsing the opening ceremonies in Bejing.

A Tidbit

Your Sister, upon watching a truly wretched Gary Oldman movie from the late '80s, said that my resemblance to him is "spooky." So it's Commissioner Gordon for Halloween, then. Or Dracula, Beethoven or Sid Vicious.

But Gordon would be easier.

You might remember the oft-told tale of the Target employee yelling that she loved my movies a few years back. That's what started the Oldman notion.

Muppets and bats and rabbits

We watched the theatre's annual kids show Friday night. It was The Velveteen Rabbit, a story I only know via Your Sister. The play featured all kids, none over 15 and ran 90 minutes. It was a long haul for those kids and generally they did a fine job. The auditorium's air system made them scream their lines, and it was just like watching the Montford Park Players. You watch a broadly gestured recitation at full volume. There was a horrid five-minute fairy dance featuring the youngest kids stumbling through the dances -- the clear low point of the show. I'm impressed with the kids' effort. The set looked good, and the shift from stuffed toys to kid actors worked well. My courtroom director was running the sound, and I said hi and hugged her. It was pleasantly un-awkward.

We drove to the other Greenville Saturday for a one-two shot of Big Shows. I bought our Dark Knight movie ticket the day before, and thank God, I did. You probably know by now that the film had the biggest opening in the history of the universe. Even our early afternoon show was packed. The line for the 4:30 show looped around the lobby. I hadn't seen that in years and years.

The movie itself is exhausting. I marvel at it. It's intelligent and deliberate and unafraid to go for spectacle on various levels. Ledger gets all the attention, but everyone is good and hitting all cylinders. It's airtight, and you crave the sequel immediately. I turned to Your Sister and said "now you know what it was like to watch Empire Strikes Back in the theatre." She was not amused. But she was satisfied with the film. We both were. It's the goods, and it sets a new standard for comic films. It makes Spider-Man look dinky and childish in comparison.

After the film, we changed clothes at the library and watch Avenue Q. I downloaded the soundtrack the day after the show on the Tonys back in 2004. The hall was only half full, and I suspect the show's relatively low profile and high concept kept casual audiences away. We, however, howled. Because tickets were plentiful, I managed to snag box seats along the left-hand side of the theatre. That was a first. The show is as good as advertised, worthy of stealing the Best Musical awards way back when, and it hasn't dated at all. It's not distracting to see mic'ed actors work puppets, and the show flew by at 2 hours. We made our regualr late-night drive back up the mountain. It's a ritual I enjoy every time.

I went to a farewell party for my fellow actor from the murder play a few months back. He got into the governor's school, to no one's suprise, and his mom put together a party in Hendersonville. Thank God some local theatre people were there because I knew nobody else. We talked shop. Your Sis stayed home to wrangle schoolwork. I took her back some leftover party food. I tried a new drink: half unsweet tea and half Sprite, and it's more fun to order than to drink. I don't recommend it.

I got my framed theatre photos for the bathroom, and it looks sharp. Now I need to rifle through my personal theatre collection to find something else to frame on the other wall. Then I buy towels. This first framing was the largest part of this decorating project, and it came out better than I figured. I may not screw this up after all.

Because we're heading to the Outer Banks in a few weeks, I'm determined to get into better shape for our windsurfing and surfing lessons. I dusted off the exercise ball and twisted myself all up while I watched a taped MMA event. It's good incentive.

Picture of the Day
This is Vampira, the inspiration for Elvira. She sued the latter for infringement and lost. She started off hosting horror movies on a California TV station and later became an Ed Wood actor.

But What I Really Want to Do ...

The script meeting last night included some real progress. We have a list of more than 50 potential plays, and we whittled that down to about 20. This followed debate about the plays we just read. We have to choose 6 shows. The theatre will produce nine total including a musical, Christmas show, and a debut play, all of which we don't choose. No we're trying to decide the formula for the season. We have one hard drama, A Trip to Bountiful, and because we have a director lined up for this show already, it's in. That leaves five slots for comedies, mysteries, farces, and a category we made last night, a light drama.

After reading The Rainmaker and Crimes of the Heart, I argued that we need to offer a drama that counters the traditional theatre perception of dark, depressing shows. Audiences won't flock to a three-hour bout of dismay. But both of the dramas I read this week are more than comedies with depth. They are dramas, and that genre is more than sad endings. I made such an argument for Rainmaker that I was asked if I wanted to direct it. Actually, I don't I'd rather act in it. But I won't turn down the chance. And I said yes. It's nothing binding. In fact, I said later that I should assist in directing before I helm a show with this company. They don't know me well enough to give me the reins. The actors have no reason to listen to me or trust my notions. I have to pay dues and thread roots. But, still, the path to directing was laid last night. I would like to tackle Inherit the Wind and I suggested in June how it could be done with a reduced cast and set). If the script committee considers it again next year, maybe I'll get that chance.

I was given one new script last night; everyone else is reading plays I've already graded. We should finalize the season in two weeks. We'll have to take into account the commercial appeal of the plays, our ability to cast and produce them, and the type of season they would create as a whole. It's been fun, but I'll be glad to end this.

Moving Picture of the Day
In front of most showings of Dark Knight will run this trailer for Watchmen, the adaptation of the most significant comic in the past 30 years. It's the Moby-Dick of comics. In comics history, there are Superman' descendants. Spider-Man's descendants, and Watchmen's. They establish their specific eras. Watchmen wasn't the first dark comic by a long shot, but it heralded a new depth to comics. Arguably, nothing has lived up to it since its mid-'80s debut.

The trailer looks good and suggests the film will cling close to the comic. I like what I see so far.

A Very Long Argument About Satire

I'll spare the blow-by-blow. Suffice to say Your Sister didn't think it was funny, and we threw down on comedy, intention vs. reception, satire vs. propaganda, and media commentary.

I don't think I'm an odd duck for listening to conservative radio. It amuses me. I laugh at it. Not with. At. Your Sis can't stomach it; she's repulsed by the image of the fringe zealous audiences. She's unable to mock the hosts. Me, I live for it. We agree that nothing deflates the earnest diatribe like laughter. And I truly find the crap singing from my radio rib-tickling. The local preacher who uses his daily Prayer Time show to rant about communists and environmentalists? Hysterical. Limbaugh continuing to claim that the Bush Administration failed because of a shadow government of ex-Soviets employed by the Clintons? A hoot. Michael Savage claiming Iranians set the California fires just a year after he said Al Qaeda did the same? This is better than primetime sitcoms.

Your Sis screams with rage. I scream with laughter. We're wired differently. But we went to bed after a truce, and that's all that matters.

I've read my 34th script, and I'm desperate to pick up a novel. Suddenly there are piles of books I'd rather read. There's a new Chuck Palahniuk out there. Somewhere. Lost in the wildnerness.

Picture of the Day
Still dying to see the new Batman film.

A Very Quick Lesson in Satire

This is funny:


This is why:
It gives light to the bigoted paranoia on the fringe right. It exposes the hollow rabble-rousing of the talk-show hosts desperate to create scandal. It deflates the simmering fears of those influenced by either.

Anyone who pretends to be outraged is either trying to get on TV or stands revealed as a muckraker. All those people who still harp on Barack's middle name? This is for them. All those people who claim they don't get the joke? Idiots and liars.

The magazine struck a nerve and plastered the conversation on their cover. Audiences have to confront what they profess. This is what good print journalism does.

+ + +

I ran some more and may have hit my limit on sun intake. My nose is all ouchy. How did you manage in Swaziland?

Drinking Like a Radio

Your Sis came to Asheville with me Friday, but she didn't test-drive a scooter. She's on the waiting list for the safety-course at a community college, and she's disheartened about the potential time before she becomes a student. This isn't a midlife crisis; this is her annual summer project that hit a speed bump. She hoped to drive to work on her new scooter when the school opens next month. We drove to a parkway restaurant next to a hotel. This hotel was the scene of some memorable college drama for me in the winter of '92, and it amuses Your Sis to no end.

We hit the farmer's market on Saturday to make veggie kabobs for that night's teacher party. Again, we grilled. We've become master grillers of late. The party was good -- not too much shop talk and the mood was much more relaxed than during semesters. I also drank an entire bottle of Syrah, but I was assured I wasn't an ugly drunk. I never am. I'm a polite drunk. A charming drunk even.

Your Sis did school work over the weekend, and we took turns working on our tans for the August vacation. We watched the first Hellboy movie last night to prepare her for the sequel. I didn't like it when I first saw it -- it veers hard away from the comic's dark tone -- but time and old age has helped me grow to enjoy it.

Picture of the Day
I found this kids book in Malaprops. It's hysterical, and the author has a few other books out, including one where zoo animals pester a girl for supplies to make a getaway car. We don't need kids to buy these books. But, I have to admit and I urge you to say nothing to no one, I'm warming to the idea of being a parent.

I also found a comic book that details the creation of an episode of This American Life, and it may be my favorite comic book ever. It's a smidgen outdated. It predates podcasts, and the advice on getting on amateur radio is almost quaint now. Then again, I used to make fake radio broadcasts in my bedroom as a kid. I had tapes and tapes of my radio station.

The Phantom of the Drama

You might remember the director of the courtroom play, and the horrible backstage shit that she sparked. She has returned. She's working backstage on the annual kids show. I can only assume this is a test to see if she's salvageable.

I had little problem with her during rehearsals, but things fell apart during performance week. She lost her shit over an actor who wanted to direct, and she took it public in emails, and she went nukulur on the stage managers. We had a coffee chat a few weeks after the show closed, and it was pleasant enough when she wasn't harping on the stage-light debacle. She gave me prints of DVD captures to show other cast members and prove her argument. It was my understanding that she alienated a good stage-manager team, a number of actors, and the president of the theatre. Maybe this is a one-time deal.

Actually, as I think on it, the director of the kids show was the script-committee member who gossiped about her the most. Now they're working the same show, and I wonder if the director had any say in the matter. Getting tech crew for this theater's shows is often a struggle. Perhaps she was desperate for help.

I've been asked to compile my list of script preferences for tonight's meeting. I've read 30 scripts so far, and hopefully, we'll only get a few more to read; I know we're asked to consider The Rainmaker as a drama.

Picture of the Day

Decor Concerns

Bed Bath and Beyond carries this wall plaque, and it cries to join my theme bathroom:



Might be too much. I'd like to cobble together some pictures and souvenirs from my previous shows and hang them in a display box. I couldn't find any fancy towels and bath mats to fit the theme, so I'll have to settle for color coordination.

The script meeting was bumped to later this week, and we once again fired up the grill to make burgers. We've grilled four times within a week. Your Sis is almost getting the hang of it.

We Scrabbled again under customized rules. It helps her stay competitive. You'll be shocked to hear that she's going to school during the week.

Decorating the Throne

Your Sister received a motorcycle learner's permit so she can legally test drive scooters. If she takes a community-college driving class, she can skip the driving test for the license. I think that's how it works.

I decided to start the redecoration of my bathroom. I've tossed around a few ideas, but I focused on colors taken from pages of Vanity Fair. It's a good source for fashion and modeling photography, and I've clipped pages for years now. Recently, it started running full-page images of Broadway casts. I decided to frame three of them for the room's largest object and base the towel colors around that.



These are two of the images, minus the print accessories, and I like the look of the printed pages more. They have a standard section headline and decorative word boxes. That's Young Frankenstein up top and Gypsy below it. I also have a photo from Boeing Boeing.

I have a star-shaped bank from my decade-ago production of Barefoot in the Park, and I'll see how tastefully I can push the stage theme. Now I have to figure out what to do with the leftover Vanity Fair images.

I got the frame and matte board at Michael's, and that store will assemble the whole thing for me. Yes, I finally got someone from their framing department to talk to me. The clerk also showed me how they attach frames to paintings, and that will be my next little project.

Summer has become busy with vacation plans, doctor's appointments, teacher parties, and movie releases. We made a deal to see Mama Mia the same weekend as Dark Knight. We also have tickets for Avenue Q that Saturday.

Mom has an appointment with a therapist friend with the legal wrangling calms down. I'll have to drive back home to sign some credit papers for Dad's materials. She's starting to wonder what to do with the rest of her life; she and Dad had specific retirement plans. She could still pursue them, in time, but she needs to stick around people she knows for now.

July 4 Weekend

We got an early start as I stayed home Friday and slept late. Scattered rains allowed me to sleep in and ignore the garden, at least until Saturday. We watched Wanted Friday afternoon because Your Sister was dying to see it.

"It looks just like The Matrix, I said.
"And would that be so bad?" she asked.

So off we went. It's more like The Matrix, meets Fight Club, and no, that's not so bad. It has some nice photography choices too. This director could make some significant movies in the near future. The movie has little to do with the original comic, and that's to the film's advantage. It wasn't a great book.

The town held its annual holiday street fare, which I hate and despite and detest and loathe. The sounds of synthesized pan flute covers of '90s ballads overpowered everything else, and this is why there's a waiting period to buy guns. The festival also makes leaving town a protracted exodus.

We accidentally met up with some teacher buddies and had a leisurely dinner. A last-minute drive to find decent space to watch fireworks was for naught. We even scaled the high-school bleachers to see them, but the fog obscured them. No big deal. We went home and watched the various holiday specials on TV. I was horrified to see Keith Lockhart direct the Pops through a country version of Life Is A Highway, and I almost reached for the salvation of beer to dilute the pain. We didn't sleep well that night; the neighbors shot their fireworks until 2:30.

I fertilized the garden Saturday morning. Everything looks good. The corns is spindly, but we should get a few good ears before fall. We will have tons of squash. I may have planted the garlic upside down.

A quick haircut followed, and we drove to Greenville for the wedding of a former co-worker. He was my editor at the weekly, and I knew his bride from before I moved to Mayberry. I met up with them once in Boston during New Year's in 2005. This was our first wedding since we were married; we must have attended a half dozen when we dated. The little flower girls sparked another conversation about kids (survey says: no), and the new husband suggested I contact him at his new paper for possible illustration work. It was a lovely and cool wedding. They used the theme of Hawaii for the groomsmen (they lived there for two years while he worked for another paper), and bride designed her own dress (just like Your Sis). It rained buckets immediately after we got into our car to to drive to the reception.

It continued to rain most of Sunday. We tracked down documentary DVDs at the local movie shops for Your Sister's AP class and watched the men's final of Wimbledon. It lasted approximately three weeks. We also spent much of the weekend watching Olympic trial coverage, highlighted by runners diving across the finish line to make the team. We ended the weekend with Scrabble for the first time since, I think, we moved in the house. I'd like to play more of that. Or Guitar Hero.

We're now scheming a weeklong vacation around your ECU ceremony, and we're looking at doing touristy things at the Outer Banks. We might take surfing lessons. But we first must work on our base suntans, lest we turn lobster. Also? We might eat lobster. I don't think I ever have. You, Mark, and we will get together for a meal during that week. And, no, I'm not trying to set you up with him. Honest.

Mom is OK. I continue to have weird Dad dreams. I told Your Sis that I'm still digesting the past month in case she thought I was mad at her about something.

Picture of the Day
Dying dying dying to see Dark Knight.

Scoots and Bleeds

I left work early to give blood. They weren't equipped for the apheresis this time, and I was little disappointed after preparing myself for it all day. Seems like the Red Cross would push for a centralized donation archive so regular donors like me wouldn't have to identify themselves and provide medical history every time. It's not likely that I've spent three months in England in the 56 days since since my last donation. I have to explain my middle-school heart murmur each time. I assume they have me in their system more than a dozen times. Also, my files don't transfer from South Carolina even though the Red Cross uses SS numbers for each pint. And, in closing, Red Cross shirt designs stink.

Your Sis made stir-fry on the grill again, and it was delish again. She is aggressively shopping for a scooter. She looked at local Vespas and a brand called Aprilia. She even has the manual to prepare for a motorcycle license. She's committed to this. She rarely drives out of town nowadays, but I worry about how we could get a scooter to the nearest dealership if it goes kaput. It won't fit in the back of our Matrix.

Picture of the Day
On the march!

Talking Scripts

The script committee now has until August to choose the plays. We also need to pick more of them. Instead of the original four, we need to pick seven. Because the board isn't sure when and where the next season will run, it wants extra choices in case we produce more shows to make up for lost ticket sales.

We're in the home stretch for play consideration, but we're still getting new scripts. I just finished The Trial of Ebenezer Scrooge, a small show I was given yesterday. I have three more before next week's meeting. We have plenty of good shows to choose from, and now we're building consensus.

I went head-to-head with another member over two farces written by the same guy. They're very similar, and one, I think, is clearly superior. She wanted the other one on the grounds that the theatre already performed the script I liked. My point was that the theatre made that choice for a reason, and the other script shouldn't be presented just to be "fair" to it. This is a show she really wants to do, though. I agreed that a play so similar to the one I prefer can't be all bad, but it's clearly inferior. It's much like a bad episode of "Three's Company."

The committee is wary of doing dramas. Every theatre thinks dramas are the least-commercial choice to present and the hardest shows to cast. I don't agree. I think you're likely to get more actors when they don't have to sing. We might do Glass Menagerie, a show I did in 2002. We're also going to look at The Rainmaker. We can't just offer comedies and mysteries. We need meatier stuff, and I think a good show will bring in audiences, no matter what genre it represents.

Your Sis is trying stir-fry made on the grill. We have a new porous wok, and we're grilling corncobs give to us by Your Parents.

The recent funerals are giving me weird dreams. Last night, I dreamed I was one of the few survivors of a planetwide disaster. I scavenged and set up residency in the remains of My Parents' house. Last night, I chopped an onion, and it almost got me weepy for real. I'm obviously affected by recent events, and I'm not sure how to wring them out.

Picture of the Day
David Cronenberg and Placido Domingo are making an opera version of the former's The Fly. That was a remake of the original '50s grade-b horror film. Opera is desperately trying to remain relevant and bring in younger audiences. This -- and the hit London Jerry Springer opera -- is the right path.

Running Out of Time

Your Sis pruned the front walk yesterday and probably gave herself a massive sunburn despite the cloudy skies. It looms much better now, and the bushes don't loom so carnivorously. The garden has made another leap because of the rains.

This cooler weather encouraged me to run for the first time in a month. I ran around My Parents' neighborhood while waiting for Dad's visitation, so that was just over a month ago. I drove to the college to run; I hadn't been there to run since last summer. The school's a ghost town again, and I can run without too many distractions or embarrassing myself to the young'uns. I ran a 5k. It hurt. The headwind was not my friend, and my legs are now very sore. The subsequent wings and beer helped though.

We have a script meeting tonight, and I've enjoyed a week off from the readings. The July 10 deadline doesn't give us much time to choose our next season, but the theatre renovations may delay the season's start even more. I would rather not attempt to read new scripts; instead, I'd rather we re-read the ones most of us have graded. Give them all a second chance to win us over. I've read 26 scripts since April, and the majority of those since May. I think it unlikely to now find a new script that shoves another show out of contention. If we're still to assemble a season made of high-profile shows, we can't waste time reading small-time stories no one's heard of. We have to raise money. We need crowdpleasers. We need to produce requested plays.

Picture of the Day
Dinner for one, then?