Dreams and Stars

We are made of dreams and stars
Glittering diamonds cast across the void
Dusty bands lighting wide reaches of space
Wayfarer's signposts to journey's home
Flame of heaven burning dark mysteries
Stars and dreams are the makers of our lives

Today's message was on "Imagine if you believed that God really and absolutely loved you" with the implied submessage "and imagine if you responded to that." It's one of the more agreeable messages of the Good News, and we probably can stand to hear it more. The problem is this, however - we need more than knowledge, more than simple hearing of good news. We need something inside us to break us out of our listening mode and push us into the doing mode - the mode of acting upon the statement of "God really and absolutely loves us."

Why is it that knowledge is not enough to bring about change in our lives? I can only speak from my own experience, but I think one reason is this: Our pain and our past create a history of memories and even shape our character to control our present behaviors. We are composed of our past and our choices, and often our wounds overrule our good intentions, resulting new pains and history. We have burned within us our past, and on this we make our decisions.

Now we all know successful people who still make stupid choices. And of course we know unsuccessful people who make bad choices - but we almost expect that. What's interesting is that in both kinds of people, though the actions might be foolish and self-destructive and even destructive to others - still, they do what they do. We can say we know that a certain behavior is wrong, or weak, or bad for us - we can vow that this time we will not succumb to the temptation to do the stupid foolish thing again that brings us down - and yet when pressed by the moment we end up doing what we said we would not do.

I'm no healer of souls, and I have no training in any psychological field, but what I suspect is this: we live our lives of pain and frustration because we do not know how to stop being ourselves. I'm not talking here about the idea that somehow we must become nonentities or people without will and desire. (We are made to want and to need; denying that we want is different - and wrong - from simply denying ourselves a satisfaction in pursuit of a larger goal.) What I'm saying here is that we are our history, and our history includes the pain and wounds that form the character making the choices in our lives. We are who we were, and we don't have a way outside of it. Left to ourselves, we are dark and alone.
And this is where stars and dreams come in to play. Stars and dreams are the key to becoming more than we are. Let me explain.

The stars of space are thinly sown across the universe, burning alone in the darkness, and are the lights in the sky sailors use to guide their ships. Most of space is dark and silent; it is the stars that mark the distance in the empty space. We have these stars in our lives - they are the bright pinpoints of hope and direction that are scattered along our journey. Sometimes these stars are the touch of encouragement from a friend. Sometimes they are words spoken by a mentor. Sometimes they are the insights that spark us to consider new ways to resolve issues. We need the stars in our dark lives to point out the far distances and paths ahead of us.

And dreams - the dreams of being more than who we are - are the other part to our creation. We cannot become other than what we are unless we dream of something other than who we are. We can come to a deep understanding of our selves but without an imagination to see ourselves as more than that, as someone different, as a new creature with a new nature - we cannot help but stay as we are. We need a bright future and new beginnings to draw us into making different choices. If we simply continue to see ourselves as the product of our past and our pain, we will continue to make the same choices, making ourselves even smaller and weaker; if we see ourselves as moved by our dreams, we can find hope to make new choices and to reach for the hand that reaches back to us. We need those dreams in our darkness, too - the dreams of being more than we are, of being loved and embraced by God who sees all that we are, even all that we hide, and yet loves with an everlasting love because he is not bound by space, time, or history.

The thing that can make us step out from ourselves and live this new life comes from the hand of the maker of stars and dreams. He prompts us and pushes us: "Yes, it is true. Step out and believe. Trust in me and my eternal love for you. Be completely open and free with me, and share in abundance and joy." He calls us and prods us to respond to his message; the dreams and stars in our lives draw us to step out; all that is waiting is the choice to live believing in his love and acceptance.

Stars and dreams - they shape us and guide us. We have the bright hope of God's love - a love that we know is based on God's choices and character of abundance, and not upon who we are or what we hide. We have the dreams God gives us of a new life in Jesus Christ, and we can be inspired by these dreams to make better choices.

Look up at the stars and remember your dreams. And respond to the prompting to reach out and believe.

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The “No” in “November”

I have lived in Seattle now for 19 years, and experience the same thing every year.

I am fooled by the late summer/early fall season here, where it’s generally bright, warm, and pleasant. (For those of you who want to visit, the best months are the last two weeks of August through the first weeks of October.)

Then October turns to November, and while the weather doesn’t get immediately unpleasant, the first thing that happens is that the days seem to suddenly get shorter and dimmer. I work the typical 8-5 schedule, and I leave for work in the dark and come home in the dark. During the day the clouds and drizzle keep things dull and dreary, so that there is no sense of day.

It’s not even 5:00 right now, and I’m sitting in the dark at the bus stop waiting for the connecting bus to my home town. It’s cold and rainy. Thank goodness that this particular bus transit center has a reasonably covered and protected area. (The Eastgate Transit Center faces southwest – directly into the wind and rain – and the overhang doesn’t overhang where you queue up for the bus, so it’s just useless.) I would quibble with the design of this transit center – the ‘walls’ start 2 feet up from the ground and go up 15 feet. I’m not sure why there is the gap – is it to discourage people from hanging out here in the winter? But at least I can wait out of the rain, even though the wind whistles through.

So I just say “No” to November. Bring back September. That was a good month.

Blogger Labels: November,Seattle,clouds,transit,area,Eastgate,walls,winter,September,feet,weeks,doesn

Truth and Consequences

This week’s topic of discussion was based upon the question “What super power would you most like to have, and why?” There were two common themes: one was the power of healing, and one was the power of super insight, or “x-ray vision” into the soul. (I will leave to another day the topic of “laser eyes,” as I think the scenario is pretty much covered by the “X-Men” series.)

The case for healing was straightforward – we see the sick around us, and we think healing the sick is a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Just reach out and touch, and then the sick are healed. The way the body gets sick and the way it gets healed are sometimes mysterious to our understanding. (Just consider this: why is it our bodies get sick in the first place, and how is that our bodies “know” how to get well? Healing is often a matter of pushing the body in the right direction. But the actual healing is done by the body itself. Remarkable how it all happens.) To see someone sick is to see ourselves. The desire to heal can be a reaction of compassion and empathy – why let people suffer when it can be taken away with a word or action? So a gift for healing would be a wonderful thing—you could put right that which was wrong, and restore them to health, and leave them to live their lives happy and at peace.

The case for super insight (“x-ray vison”) was more intriguing—what would it be like to see into someone’s soul or mind. That would be an interesting power to have.

If you’ve ever wondered just what made the people around you act the way they do, this power would be incredible. At last you would understand why it is some people put the toilet paper roll over the top, and others put it under the bottom. You’d finally understand who “not me” was. (You know, the one who is never around when you ask the question “Who made this mess?”)

But then I thought, “How terrible a gift that would be.” Because while you would see what made people tick, you would be in an area where there are few tools to make a difference. Oh, I know there are therapies to change the way we act, therapies which can require a lot of work and pain, but down in the very essence we still will have the brokenness that causes us to act stupidly. Behavior and Being are two different things. To reach into the soul and make a change into who we are requires unimaginable skill. And unless there is deep change, the things that make us do stupid things, hurtful things, destructive things, will still be in us, always waiting for a chance to be free.

At least with physical healing you know there are a lot of ideas and remedies. But with soul-healing? Not so much. You’d see the pain and the brokenness, and you’d realize that what people really needed was something you could not give them. And yet, even though you were powerless to change what you saw, still you would see it. You’d be in the position of knowing the truth, but not knowing how to deal with the consequences of that knowledge. I don’t know if we could handle it. I think it would break us.

That’s what makes it so interesting to consider the old words:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

I know—this is wisdom from the past, but still, there it is: we’ve known for thousands of years that we need to be seen as we truly are by someone who can see everything about us and who can make the changes in us we desperately need, and who does so based upon what’s ultimately the best for us. I know it chafes us to think that we are scruffy and in need—especially in need of outside intervention—but one of the consequences of truth is that we have to deal with ourselves as we really are, and not as we wish we were.

Once in a while you will stumble upon the truth but most of us manage to pick ourselves up and hurry along as if nothing had happened. – Winston Churchill

Made of Heaven

Monty spoke this week about heaven, and for lots of people, heaven either doesn't exist (the end of life is simply nothing at all) or it is a place of cherubs and clouds, halos and harps, making heaven something completely unlike what we have now and not really all that interesting--unless you're a harp major. Many don't consider heaven as anything more than some far-off-future place that everyone gets to because everyone is good, or as a nice thing to use to encourage kids to be good, but not for thinking adults to consider.

But let me tell you a story that helps illustrate why heaven is something to think about right now...

A friend of mine at work once showed up with a new outfit and asked me that fatal question: "what do you think?" I was in that no-man's land of fatal choices: do I say what I think, which is "perfect if you're trying for the coveted 'I-don't-care-what-people-say' look," or do I say what I feel, which is "wow, that is such an interesting look for you"?

It's a hard choice, because I had to weigh the desire to tell the truth (what are friends for?) with the understanding that my friend was not really asking me what thought but was instead asking me for support. And so I made my choice, and said what was necessary for the moment. And my friend responded, and we ended up working that issue out later.

After thinking about this for a while, I wondered why I wanted to do one thing or another. What in me desired to be truthful? What in me desired to be compassionate? And what in me ended up making the choice?

You might think these are easy questions to answer. "Well, it was you. You thought about it, and you made your choice, and you responded." Well, yeah, that's the easy answer. But think about this: something in me had to weigh all the options, along with all the information and experience I had, and then come up with what I thought and felt was the best choice. Something in me chose the right thing, and that choice wasn't predictable.

That dilemma of choice and decision offers us a clue about the big questions such as "What is the meaning of life?" and "Should I do the right thing or the convenient thing?" and "Why do socks disappear from dryers world-wide?" (Oh, perhaps not that last question.)

There is something in us that not only wants to do the right thing or the best thing, but that knows that it is right, and, more than that, knows that there is something ultimately Right. Even when we are unsure of what we should do, there is still the impulse to consider the best thing.

The odd thing is, nothing in this world can answer this question for us, because nothing in this world is "right" or "wrong." The world by itself can't tell us what is ultimately the Right thing to do, even though it can tell us the Approved or Convenient thing do to. The world just simply "is," with no right or wrong. How can atoms dancing in our head help us create choices that are "right" or "good"? What makes us hold to some ultimate "right" or "good" thing? What in nature can explain how our minds determine what is right? (It's an interesting thing to consider the story of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, a tree planted in the garden of God. Even ancient people understood that making moral decisions was something that set us apart from animals.)

Now, don't be alarmed. This hard question about how you decide what's right and wrong is actually a good thing, because it offers a glimpse into who you really are. You are not simply something made of earth, born after a long series of accidents and ancestors. You are not simply a bizarre set of circumstances--a thinking, feeling animal doomed to irrelevance and dissolution. Within you is something the world itself can never provide and never explain--your soul, your mind, your spirit, the part of you that not only sees the stars but recognizes their magnitude and beauty. You bear the image of God, and your desires for things that the world can't provide offer you insight that only something "out of this world" can fulfill your desires.

Sometimes along this journey we will be hungry, and we will find food. Sometimes we will be thirsty, and we will find drink. And when we are hungry for truth and thirst for righteousness--well, then we will discover that this world cannot provide our needs or satisfy our wants, and we will again remember that we are made of heaven.

Asleep and the Goads

Tom Becker spoke this Sunday (10/27/09) at SVA about his experiences working in Moscow (Russia, not Idaho), as well as the circumstances that surround his "calling." I can summarize his message for you: Tom is doing his passion, and while that means he ends up doing things you could not predict, everything he does makes perfect sense when you consider whom he is serving.

There were essentially two reactions from those who were listening, broken down into: Wow Tom! and Who me? Some were just excited to hear all the events. Some felt like they should be out there themselves, feeling a bit guilty for not doing outreach like Tom.

I am of course in both camps. Part of me was stimulated to hear about his journey and his service. So many things happened and spectacular, peculiar things occurred. (The story of the "Missionary Cat" was especially telling. Who'da thunk that a sick cat would lead to such transformed lives? Get the podcast and listen about it if you missed the story.) Tom made it sound as if serving Jesus was something that brings joy and meaning to life.

And then part of me thinks that Tom was saying "you should be out there, too, doing the spectacular things, intervening in the lives of strangers, living on the edge of financial security and social support." That type of message makes me think that serving Jesus means to be miserable, because there are few things I like less than meeting strangers. And why would God be so mean as to make me do something I so dislike? Why not just let me be who I am, comfortable and secure? Must he be so unreasonable? Does faith require the future to be scary?

Well, I won't go on much about that line of thinking. I'm probably alone in thinking like that. Most people, I imagine, are so thrilled by the story that they immediately want to drop all they have and run to the mission field. They were probably on Google as soon as they could, trying to find the best airline prices to Timbuktu. So I guess I'm speaking to those few people who feel shy or who find change difficult.

Tom's story reminds me of that old parable of the Asleep and the Goads. (Maybe I have that title wrong, but it's how I remember it.)

It goes like this: we are asleep in life, existing from day to day, performing our duties and meeting our obligations. We go from bed to breakfast to bus, from desk to dinner and then back to bed. For 50 or 60 long years we do this, and then we go asleep permanently, having existed but not having lived.

Then out of the blue we are attacked by goads: the goads of discomfort, changes, dangers, catastrophes. Our quiet predictable lives are overturned, and we find ourselves watching our safe, ordinary lives diminishing in the rear-view mirror as God takes us out of ourselves and drives us into the wild and unpredictable life of grace and service. And for most of us, it's a terrible thing to be awakened from our sleep by the goads. Were we to be given a choice, we would probably choose to stay safe and ordinary.

But I think we have it wrong, in that it's not punishment to be awakened. Tom, if you can recall, was not telling us about his adventures because he hoped we'd feel guilty that we weren't doing what he was doing. And he wasn't telling us because he was hoping for sympathy for living a life of service. Tom's message was this: wake up and discover your passion. Find out what you were made to do, and find out how God is asking you to do that passion. The goads are not to make you simply uncomfortable. The goads are to get you out of your rut and into alertness.

God is, quite simply, calling you to a life of adventure. That does not just mean service across the globe. It might mean simply doing ordinary things right where you are, but discovering how the ordinary things come from your heart of passion in service. Remember, this is the God who created you and redeemed you. Why would someone, who is the maker of stars and sun, sunsets and spiral galaxies, giver of joy and beauty, why would he want you to simply live out your days doing nothing creative or important or original? Do you think he's satisfied just with seeing walking primates?

The goads are to get you awake. To get you to consider what you were made for, to awaken your passion, to get you to live. He is not satisfied to have you simply live the biological life. His goal is to give you the life of the ages, life that will last the ages, life worth living through all the ages. Would you rather stay asleep or become awake? So would you rather simply just do things, or do things because they were what you were born to do?

Asleep, or awake? It's your choice. The goads will always be there, and you can ignore them for quite a long time. (Some people ignore the goads their whole lives. Lucky them.) But perhaps the goads are God's way of saying "come follow me and discover what you were meant to do and be."

The Perfect Excuse

Sunday was a glorious day up here in the Northwest. SVA (Snoqualmie Valley Alliance) held its annual Kick-Off Sunday on a bright sunny September afternoon, with a dozen people being baptized, a band for entertainment, and barbecue. It's wonderful to see so many people publicly announcing their faith in Jesus through a ritual thousands of years old and using today's words, telling about their journey and their discovery and their desires to follow him more closely.

And that made me think about my own journey of faith through the years, following Christ, zig-zagging around, sometimes feeling pretty good about myself and sometimes feeling--well, not so good. It's been a long journey for me--I first began to learn about the saving power of Jesus in Jr. High, and it all "clicked" somewhere in High School. (I remember writing down a date in my Bible when I said "this is where I believed in Jesus," because I couldn't remember the exact date, and the people around me had their own believe-in-Jesus date memorized. Made me feel like maybe I had missed something, or that I was a second-class Christian.)

As I've grown older, I can look back and remember the times when I was super-excited to know Christ, and there were times when my Christian experience was at a low flame. It bothered me then--and still bothers me now--that I can be so wishy-washy about my faith. Why can't my life fit the promises I make to God? I really mean well, and I intend to follow through on my commitments. But time and temptation always seem to pull me back.

And this is where the "Perfect Excuse" comes in. I use the excuse "well, I'm not perfect." I let my faith sputter to a halt because I excuse my bad choices, but I was doing it for perfectly valid reasons. It was a very hard time at work, so I didn't put in a full day's effort. I didn't share my faith with that guy because I was really in a hurry. It was too hard to wake up every morning for devotion, and besides, can't we just pray anywhere.

You can probably fill in your own excuses.

We get these completely understandable reasons for not closely following Christ because--and this is the hard point--the actual reality of what we are doing and why we are doing it is just too painful to look at. We don't just drift away, because that makes it sound like we're just unable to control where the boat is going. We end up where we are because, deep inside, we just don't want to be that close. We use the perfect excuse of "we're only human" to cover up the real reason: we don't want to go where Christ is calling us. I'm sorry to have to point this out, because it's pretty stark. But as you probably know from your own life, patching and painting a crack in the walls of your house doesn't really fix the problem, when what you have is a broken foundation. I'm afraid that the real reason we get where we are is because all along we wanted to make the choices we made.

And yet, there is some good news here. Lots of good news.

The first piece of good news is that we're not alone. Look around at the people you know, and count the number of them that have lived without flaws. (Please note I did not say "count the number of their flaws.") You are not perfect and you fail, much more than you think. (If you went ahead anyway and counted the flaws of those around you, ask them to return the favor. You might be surprised by the number they report back.)

The second piece of good news is that God literally sees everything--the private details, the excuses, the petty actions, broken promises, selfishness, anger, self-pity ...well, there's a lot, he sees it all--and he completely understands. He knows us so completely that he even knows the core issue: we have wandering hearts, and cannot make our hearts stay faithful.

I know what you're thinking: Then what's the use of trying to stay faithful? What's the use of making promises? What was my reason for writing down in my Bible the date when I finally believed? Well, promises do help remind us of what we should be doing--but they really cannot make us stay faithful.

No, the only way to become faithful is the use the real Perfect Excuse. This is the excuse God provides to us. He has promised to be in us, making our hearts become more faithful. We're not the ones capable of changing our hearts, but he is. I'm not trying to be all "religious" and speak words that make no sense. The actual factual fact here is that when we ask him, God takes his place in our lives, transforming our hearts so that we more and more make choices that are based upon what's right and true and not upon what we feel at the moment. We are more than just animals: we are humans with a soul, and we were designed to live in fellowship with God forever. Having him take his place in our lives is way to be in that fellowship. And he wants to be there, not to take away choices, but to provide the character and will to make the right choices.

I mentioned the baptisms held this last Sunday. They're a symbol of beginning life in Christ. And continuing in Christ means we continually ask God to take his place in our hearts. It's the Perfect Excuse, because we have the Perfect One in us.

What's--or Who's--your excuse?

Socks and the Deep Mysteries of the Universe

This week Monty began a new series on the Trinity. Now, some of you who've been around for a while might be saying "here we go again: another reiteration of dry facts of what I simply must believe."

Well, not quite. I'd like to try approaching this from a new angle so we can perhaps find some fresh meaning from a long-held belief.

What led me to this was looking at my sock drawer. (Really. Hang in there with me.) I have white socks in one drawer, and black socks in another drawer. I keep them separate because it's just easier, even though with just black socks and white socks, you think that would not be a challenge. But I thought, how interesting that my socks are not just black and white things, they are things that serve a purpose. My white socks are for my day-to-day wear, while my black socks are for formal occasions (or when I'm out of white socks). The socks exist for a purpose, and if I didn't have black and white socks -- indeed, if I didn't have socks at all -- I couldn't be the fashion plate that many people look to for sartorial advice. My purpose determines the relationship and the contents of my sock drawer, and not the other way around.

Now how does this tie into the Trinity? Am I going to suggest that the Father wears black socks, the Son wears white socks, and the Spirit doesn't wear socks because -- well, as spirit where would he put them? No, not to that level. What I'm saying instead that when we think of the Trinity if we try to analyze it by the math first then we perhaps miss the central point, which is that the Triune God exists (if that word can be used of a being outside space and time) in relationship: he is, centrally, relating to himself.  So if we think of numbers and not faces, we miss this important element.

What does this mean then? Am I throwing out Trinitarian doctrine? Not really. I'm as orthodox as I know how to be, but I'm suggesting that simply looking at the mathematical elements isn't how God chooses to reveal himself. If you look at the scriptures, God doesn't say "I'm 1 and 1 and 1." He says "I am the Father," "I am the Son," and even "I am the Holy Spirit." If we are of a mathematical bent, we'll see this as "look: three-in-one." If we are of a relationship bent, we'll see this as "look, they are in relationship to each other."

What does this mean, then, for us?

I think it's this: we come to God with certain expectations and unstated beliefs. If we focus on the counting or dividing aspect (black socks and white socks; 1+1+1), we will see God in a way that emphasizes his mystery and uniqueness, but it can be difficult to then see him as personal and intervening God. If we come to him first with the idea that He expresses himself in relationship and not just or only in numbers and mathematics, we will see him as someone who will be involved in us and our lives because it's part of his revealed nature. We might not spend so much time on the math; instead, we might spend time with the teacher.

I think this can encourage us to push in to know God better as we learn about his nature and not just be satisfied simply with knowing how to do the math.

The Cuban and the Redhead

[removed]

Rocket Science

[Removed]

Catch Me If You Can

5th Avenue, through August 16, 2009

This is a solid, fun, musical with book/music/lyrics by the same team who did “Hairspray.”

However, it’s still a work in development. I liked it overall, but there are some major flaws with the production.

First of all, there is a hole a truck can go through regarding the overall plot/theme. Think about the title: “Catch me if you can.” The authors of this production tried to expand upon the movie (this show is basically only the movie with songs, NTTAWWT) by bringing in the idea that Frank Abagnale, Jr. is looking for a father figure, both in his real father and in his eventual captor, Carl Hanratty. This could be a good idea – but it simply does not show up in the production as it is. Taking that theme and making it the theme of this show could make this an outstanding, funny, and poignant musical with “legs” (it could go to Broadway). As it is, it is just a long, long musical.

Second, the idea of the show within the show is good. (SPOILER ALERT!) Frank Jr. is the host of the show, and every so often steps out of his “role” in the show-within-the-show to explain things to the audience. Not bad, but it makes the show a series of disjointed vignettes because the theme/plot is missing or weak. Since we’ve abandoned any sense of reality (I mean, for a musical – no one would argue that musicals in themselves are real) it becomes an exercise for the audience to remember the movie and use that as a way to hold the story together – it does not hold together on its own.

Some songs/characters, while funny in the movie, simply clutter this show. While I like the characters of Brenda’s mom and dad, the whole scene of them being wacky Southerners singing their wacky sing-along song could be cut from the show. Useless, does not move the story forward, and not endearing.

In other cases, plot development is simply a leap of faith. Yes, I know. Musicals aren’t necessarily logical. But still, there are conventions. Frank, Jr., a 17-year old kid in the glitzy metropolises of the world, is continually surrounded by beautiful women who throw themselves at him and his bed. It’s the fantasy of every male to think about, and Frank, Jr. lives that life. But then, plain ol’ Brenda Strong comes along in the second act, and for no reason that comes across in this musical, he abandons his sexual hedonism (he keeps the other aspects of hedonism) and commits to Brenda. I’m sorry, but as much as I think Brenda is a pretty nice girl, I would think that someone like Frank Jr. would simply be jaded. It does not work for me.

Brenda gets the big 11 pm torch number, and Kerry Butler, the actor playing her, simply belts it out of the ballpark. Truly a great showstopper. But – the song itself is meaningless. I simply do not believe her. She has not displayed any passion for Frank, Jr., and he hasn’t shown himself to be loyal, faithful, true, good, or honest. But yet – she’s gonna stick by him and sing this treacly, soaring number. I don’t buy it.

The set is good, but perhaps it’s an impediment. Having the orchestra on stage is fine – I wasn’t distracted – but how does that in itself advance the show or make it easier to understand? Perhaps it’s the conceit that “just like shows in 60s’ TV, we have a live orchestra” – but shows in 60s TV didn’t have the orchestra in the main part of the numbers, did they? And if they did, was that really useful TV?

Costumes were OK—overstated, but that’s theatre and musicals and parodies. I did think that the lingerie number was a bit rough. This won’t be a family-friendly show. Hanratty’s suits are grey and rumpled; Frank, Jr. wears various uniforms, which is fine. No great shakes there. The ensemble has a few numbers where “fantastic” uniforms appear, homages to the bizarre stewardess uniforms of the 60s.

For the most part, the feel of the language was spot on. I felt that there was a moment of 90s consciousness in the New Orleans scene – I don’t remember what phrase was used, but it wasn’t anything I remember hearing in the 60s. I do want to particularly mention the F-bomb in the first act. It’s perhaps fitting for the moment – but again, it makes this not a family-friendly show. Somehow Rogers & Hammerstein managed to convey racism, lust, greed, failure, pain in “South Pacific” (this was a war going on where people were killed, remember?) without sprinkling profanity around. Yes, prudes were more prevalent in the 40s and 50s—but does anything really think that SP would be improved by casual profanity? And CMIYC is not improved by F-bombs. (Note that I somewhat expect it in shows like “Avenue Q” or even “Spring Awakening,” but I simply do not expect it in a show that’s going after the “Hairspray” crowd. )

As far as actors go, I’ve already mentioned Kerry, who was great. Norbert Leo Butz, playing Hanratty, must simply be seen to be believed. He has played Fiero in “Wicked” and Jamie Wellerstein in “The Last Five Years”; this is an entirely new and different role, and he is beyond belief. Truly wonderful to watch and hear. And Aaron Tveit was similarly wonderful, although similar is the wrong word. These two actors are not the same unless you want to classify them as “talented.” Aaron is funny, wicked, charming, and has a darn good singing voice. (Norbert you already know as a good singer.)

Overall? The actors carry this show. It’s great because Norbert and Aaron are outstanding, and Kerry is simply great. But the storyline? Meh. Muddled, misshapen, WAY TOO LONG with too many characters.

I’m afraid it’s too late to save this in any meaningful way. The show has been in pre-production for five years now, and I don’t think it’s possible to start over – but they should, they really should. They should re-examine the book much more closely, and think about how to have a show that’s about something. Much as I like revues and variety shows, they don’t last. This show, if re-thought-out and redone, could be a killer evergreen show.  They should be brutal and throw away every song, re-examine the story line, cut, cut, cut, and re-do the songs. (The songs themselves aren’t good or bad, but if they try to hold on to a favorite, they might end up not cutting a scene or character that should be cut.)

A C to C+ production. I’ve seen better from this group, and it’s disappointing to see a show with great promise turn out to be so ho-hum.

Current books

The Principle of the Path

The Principle of the Pathis sober reading, but recent economic and political events perhaps require sobriety. Andy Stanley challenges us to think about ourselves, our present condition, and our future. Where will what we are doing right now take us, and will we discover too late that the warning signs are plentiful? Can we avoid the outcome if we stay on the paths we are choosing?

I enjoy listening to and watching Andy on DVD, and this book is pure Andy. There’s a solid understructure to a disarmingly simple presentation. He does not shirk the truth, but because he wants us to listen, he uses easy-to-grasp illustrations and sentence structure to make serious points about our choices and our ultimate destinations in life. No convoluted paragraphs or high language here—it’s straight-forward and accessible.

And the book is, to be blunt, blunt. Andy does not sugar-coat the problems, most of which are of our own doing, and many of which are predictable based upon our choices. The key element here is that our destination in life is nearly a pure function of the choices we make and the paths we take. If we want to be healthy, successful, and comfortable, but we are lazy, unmotivated, and impulsive, it’s not likely we’ll end up where we want, but it’s almost a surety that we’ll end up where we say we don’t want to be.

Hard medicine at times, but Andy isn’t here to lecture. He wants to promote truth and honesty, but it’s because he thinks we can do better, not because he delights in pointing out our problems. Hard, hard words to swallow in an age where we are encouraged to indulge ourselves right away and hope that the future is disconnected from our current decisions.

Living the Fifth of July

Fireworks are a fascinating thing. They are nothing until they are lit, and then they become for a short while bright glowing sparks that dance, hiss, shoot, crackle until they suddenly fade away, leaving smoke and glowing images. We take time getting ready for our Independence Day celebrations, which culminate in a display of flame and noise, and then close everything down until next year, holding on to memories that already begin to fade. (What can we hold on to but memories? Flowers fade and grass withers.) The next day is the fifth of July, an unremarkable day, and we get on with life.

Paul’s letter to the Colossians is to people who are living the “fifth of July” life. Paul has come and gone from Asia already (and likely never made it to Colossae at all), and now these Colossians are left to handle their daily lives without the fireworks of a visit by Paul. (Believe me, Paul’s visits were like firecrackers thrown into a room full of cats and neurasthenics. Fun for those who watch, but not so much if you are the cat—or the neurasthenic.) What remains for these believers now that the excitement has passed? Paul makes it pretty clear: be smart about life. Stop doing stupid, dead-end things. Live life as a free person, making decisions in grace and wholeness, and living them out.

Fine words, but the unanswered question is how do we do this? Like the Colossians, we are faced with living out life and hearing great words about what we should do. Few would disagree with living the good life, of being kind and respectful, of paying attention to people, of listening and not lecturing. Nothing controversial there, and if that’s all life is supposed to be about, then why the fireworks? We can get this advice from our parents. What makes Paul’s advice different or unique?

I think it’s the context in this passage, the “goal” (as The Message puts it) of bringing outsiders in. What, exactly, would we want outsiders to be brought into? Rules? Regulations? Things to do? Not that, no. Instead, it’s a life of vital union with Jesus Christ, to be blunt. Not religion, and not mere rules, but something that comes when we are joined with him, in fellowship, in prayer, in service, in obedience. That’s what the fireworks were all about for the Colossians—it wasn’t just a visit from Paul that was important, it was Paul’s message. We who are living in the times of the “Fifth of July” are living after the fireworks of Christ’s life and waiting for his return. We hold on to the memories of his life, his work, his death, and his resurrection, and we remember the words he told us before he left us for the moment.

It’s not easy living the Fifth of July, but remember, there was a Fourth of July just a short while ago--and soon there will be Christmas. Hold on, be patient, stay in contact with Christ, and before long it will be time again for celebrations, feasts, and reunions. It will be a great party--and the more people you invite, the bigger the party will be.

Show Boat

Show Boat

Village Theatre May 13–July 3, 2009 EXTENDED!

Cast:

Character	Actor
Gaylord Ravenal	Richard Todd Adams
Cap'n Andy	Larry Albert
Frank Schultz	Greg McCormick Allen
Sherrif Vallon	Art Anderson
Windy	Noel Barbato
Queenie	Marlette Buchanan
Magnolia Hawks	Megan Chenovick
Young Kim	Analiese Emerson Guettinger
Joe	Ekello Harrid Jr.
Julie Baker LaVerne	Cayman Ilika
Parthy Ann Hawks	Leslie Law
Kim	Kasey Nusbickel
Steve Baker	Matthew Power
Pete	Casey Raha
Ellie May Chipley	Kathryn Van Meter

Ensemble: Connie Corrick, Antonia Darlene, Jadd Davis, Bojohn Diciple, Ashley FitzSimmons, Curly Squires Hutchinson, Ashanti Mangum, Rebecca Orts, Ericka Turner-Davis, William Williams, Bethanie Willis, Ty Willis, Thaddeus Wilson

The Village Theatre has never done a bad show in all the years we've been attending (our first show was Oliver! sometime in the early 90s). And this is definitely one of the best things we've ever seen there. Dancing is wonderful, singing is wonderful, costumes are wonderful--even the Cotton Blossom set piece is wonderful. (They do very clever things with the Cotton Blossom to get it onto the stage.)

Everyone knows the story--Julie, half-black, is uncovered by Pete & the Sherrif, and she leaves the boat and the show with her husband Steve. Magnolia is heartbroken--this is her best friend--but the Law is the Law in Mississippi. Meanwhile, Gaylord Ravenal is thrown out of town, and ends up on the Cotton Blossom, falling in love with Magnolia, who falls in love with him. Joe sings "Ol Man River," of course, and Act I ends with Gaylord and Magnolia married and happy.

Act II is what happens next. Seems that Gaylord isn't dependable, racks up debts, so leaves his wife and young daughter, Kim, in Chicago around the turn of the century. Magnolia ends up auditioning at the same club where Julie has landed. Julie, unseen by Magnolia, sees the fresh young Magnolia and wistfully departs, letting Magnolia become the new star.

Finally we jump forward a bit more and we see Kim is a musical theatre star. Gaylord and Magnolia end up back together due to Cap'n Andy's machinations, and all is almost well. Ol' Man River he just keeps rolling along.

The larger story is the tragedy of color in America expressed through joy and sadness. Julie is a scapegoat for a country that can't handle any shades of color. Gaylord is a useless but loveable man whom no one tells to grow up and do something useful. Magnolia is a sweet young thing who's protected from life's harshness by parents who hope against hope, but as all children must do, finds out some of the pitfalls of love.

Cayman, of course, is truly excellent as Julie. Cayman's voice is mostly smoke, amber, and velvet. She could sing "Happy Birthday" and retire on the tips. Richard plays Gaylord well; I wasn't so sure whether his accent/voice mannerisms were part of his character, but it seemed a bit too melodramatic all the time. Perhaps that's just stage direction from the director; to my uneducated ear, it seemed a bit too Snidely Whiplash-y. Not bad, just a bit much. Megan is sweet, wholesome, endearing, and plucky, just like she should be, but without a sense of falsity or parody--Show Boat isn't making fun of her; it's showing her off, and this production is honest. Ekello (Joe) has a key part of this production, singing the standard "Old Man River," and does not disappoint. He's grave, and wise, and quietly emotional. No happy-go-lucky servant here--just someone who's seen a lot of pain on both sides of the river. Marlette plays Queenie well--a bit slapstick in the kitchen, but without the sense of lunacy or lack of self-awareness that can creep into this role.

I admire the ensemble that must represent the views of Kern & others who made the show as well as trying to represent real people interacting with the storyline. They are not just caricatures of jive-talkers. And let me say that the dance duo by Bojohn and another actor was wonderful (I didn't get a chance to match her face with the cast list, and she was not listed in the program.) Kudos to some fine dancing!

A great production. Sweet, fresh, fun, a bit wicked, but no sense of parody or irony here. Just an honest show that tells the story Jerome Kern wanted to tell, and a show that lets the audience grow in its awareness of the issues.

Village Theatre - Showboat

Village Theatre Blog

Choosing Well and Choosing Good…

Good choices usually bring good results. As broken people, it's hard to make good choices. But the good news is that when we become alive in Christ, we gain the ability and power to make good choices, even if we don't want to.

I know this sounds "religious," but it's really true. We gain this ability--this new nature--when we became new creatures in Christ. (If you want to go really deep, just think what it means to have Christ in us. Awesome.) We can now make new, free choices for good, which means doing good as well as doing well. In other words: we start being like Christ.

Often what comes to mind when we hear about "good choices," however, is "you're talking rules and regulations, legalism, dead faith, harsh obedience, and h-h-h-oliness. I didn't sign up for that. I signed up to know Christ and his love." Well, maybe not exactly those words. But we rebel at the thought that we have to do all those tasks. It looks like we remove the chains of sin and  brokenness only to pick up new chains of legalism and performance. Ugh. Who wants that?

Well, let me propose that although acting well is true freedom, how you choose to perceive it can make a big difference in your desire to do it. You can see it as legalism and performance, or you can see it as freedom and grace. And since it's summer (by the calendar if not by the temperature), let's illustrate this with a favorite summer pastime: vacations and having fun.

Imagine that you are given a ticket into the brand new 21st century Disneyland . Someone drops you off at the gate, says "go have fun," and then leaves you. What do you do first? Do you run around looking at all the rides? Do you just stay in the Main Street Plaza, afraid to explore? Would you look for the map and brochure that tells you exactly what you have to do to have a good time? With lists of rides you have to go on and times you have to be there? And the sense of "I gotta get to the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' by 10:00 or I'll miss the mark, and Walt will be very, very unhappy with me"?

Did I mention that there are hundreds of people around you who've been there before and can advise you on the best rides? What would you do now?

You'd probably respond with "I'd ask someone who knew what was going on what I should do first, because I want to enjoy Disneyland for what it is. It's not a park of rules and regulations of what I must do, but a place of wonderful adventures to explore, of things I can do."

And that's good advice. You have the freedom to do all sorts of things. You might not know what you want to do, even though you are free to do it.

That's the advice Paul gives in Colossians 3. Having been freed from our old nature because of the death and resurrection of Christ, we now can choose a new life of holiness, good, freedom, love, peace--you name it. It's not rules and regulations. It's information about the best rides and what you might want to do first.

Paul gives us command-advice (things we really should do) because these are ways to live out the life Christ gives us. It's not rule-and-regulation life. It's a life that breathes out the grace, love, peace, and power of God in us. It's the transformed life. When we ask ourselves, "how should I show the love of Christ in my life," here's a quick way to see what that means. We now have the choice to live with compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, and discipline. These are good things God now gives us the power and freedom to do, because these are things that God himself is. These aren't rules; they're signs of transformation.

Make good choices. And be free. That's Paul's advice, and it's a great way to live. Not only will you live out the life of Christ, you'll find freedom, grace, and peace.

Collapse of Distinction, by Scott McKain

In Collapse of Distinction, Scott McKain finds four key factors that can help a business thrive. Owners and managers must figure out how to incorporate these factors, McKain argues, because only distinct businesses are superior. He writes in a brisk, familiar style, studded with anecdotes and remembrances, and helpfully includes an "Executive Summary" and list of key questions to ask at the end of each chapter, so that readers motivated by his arguments can find immediate ways to examine and implement his suggestions and directions. I won't give away the ending--you'll have to buy the book yourself and find out--but there are rich nuggets scattered throughout this book. I enjoyed the book for what it is--a clear, crisp, personable message about how to define your business and make the superior choice.

I was challenged by a few of his points, especially that of the customer experience being a key driver. McKain hammers this home: customers have many points of contact with your company; you should know exactly what these points are and how your customer experiences them, because every point of contact is a chance for your customer to decide whether you are superior or merely common.

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I gave this book a “3 out of 5,” however, because of some general problems with the actual book structure and flow. McKain is a speaker and motivator, and this comes out in his writing. It is personable, actionable, and easy to read. However, even though there is a long list of resources and an index at the end of the book, there is a frustrating lack of contextual citations for some of his observations and conclusions. This is not a book with hard data, and while McKain comes across as an expert in the field of motivation, speaking, and management consulting, what is missing is a sense of “here is an actual thing Company X did on Y date; here is the data beforehand, and here are the data at various points after.” It’s well and good to say motivational things, and most of what he said I don’t disagree with, but businesses that thrive are businesses that understand how to measure success and failure. It’s not enough to get advice: we must have advice that’s backed up by data. (For example, I might be a bad tennis player, and someone might tell me “improve your swing,” which might be true, but a tennis expert can examine my stroke, tell me exactly where I am doing it wrong, tell me exactly what I need to do to fix it, and evaluate my progress and results. A random comment by someone might be right, but it’s just as likely that it’s wrong.)

I also was unhappy with the poor organization and seeming lack of a deep edit. Some chapters were just badly written and hard to follow. Some of the earlier chapters seemed like mere introductions to later chapters (“and we’ll talk about this later…”). I don’t mind the breezy, confident conversational style, but it can be tiresome when you’re just looking for the key factors. The book felt like the editor wasn’t confident enough to send this back to McKain with questions such as “you make this point—what’s the data? Why are you talking about X all of a sudden when you’ve been talking about Y?”

However, take my comments about weak organization and apparent weak editing with some skepticism. McKain’s books have received glowing, sincere endorsements by many recognized professionals, so perhaps this breezy, confident familiarity is what business/motivational books should be like. And because the book is written with such a light touch, it is an easy read, and the summaries and questions help reinforce what’s in each chapter.

Buy the book, read it, and glean the good stuff.

I am a member of Thomas Nelson's Book Review Blogger program http://brb.thomasnelson.com/

The Ensemble of Stars

    Theatre is a tricky thing. There must be a story, a producer, a venue and staff, and an audience. Oh, and one more thing--the actors. Glitz and glamour are the handmaidens of fame, and modern life would not be complete without US, People, American Idol, or Britain's Got Talent. We watch with fascination the rise and fall of the participants, serving as the audience as well as the ensemble to these stars, supporting them or just gi ving them the opening for their best lines.
    To be on stage is to have been sifted through many sieves, a crosshatching catching a stumbled dance step, a missed note, a blank stare instead of a memorized line. Actors are tested and proved by committees of excellence; trained, rehearsed, and challenged by coaches until they are as good as they can be in the role that is a combination of the imagination of the author, the demands of the director, and the mind and experience of the actor. And then the opening curtain, the sudden rush of lines and cues, and the applause, and the sense of "that was wonderful--can I do it again?"
    And then there's us, in the background. Maybe we didn't make the cut. Maybe we didn't really want to be in the spotlight. Maybe we just didn't want to try anymore, having been cut one too many times from the cast. We serve, and we watch, and we applaud. But unless we were aiming low to begin with, there is always that twinge of "I coulda been a contender."
    I thought about this over the weekend as I watched various productions, both live and filmed; participated vicariously in casting auditions; and talked about people trying out for those shows. There's a great desire mixed with desperation at times to be on stage, to be seen, to be loved and affirmed, to be in the light and even to be the light. "Look at me! Listen to my lines! Watch what I do!" Between us and those stars is a great divide of space and great chasm of involvement. We can see, but we can't touch. We can watch, but we can't participate. We can desire, but we cannot be fulfilled. It is just acting, and we are not lucky enough to be the actors.
    I was prompted to consider a line from Colossians that's quite ordinary and unobserved: "...joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light." (Col 1:12) We are on stage, you see, all of us, leading our lives and living our roles as mothers, fathers, children, siblings, employees, employers, leaders, or followers. We are in this reality show called life, and the good news--no, the great news--is that every one of us is already qualified. We passed the auditions and the casting calls, and the curtain rises up every day. And we are in the direct gaze of the only one who really matters, the only one who can say with final authority "Well done, good and faithful one."
    There is great release for me in this. I am qualified because of another who is never wrong in his actions or decisions. It's no mistake I'm here, living the life I'm in. I'm accepted, and loved, and forgiven. Yes, there is much work to do, and it seems at times few resources to get it done. But the good news is that we are not still auditioning. This is the life we get to live, and the one who writes the parts and directs the staging will prompt us and and remind us. I'm not alone in the dark. I'm on stage, in the light, with my friends and family; I'm with the great ensemble of stars.

Cave of Memories

In a cave in France there is a wall with paintings from long ago. Bison, aurochs, horses, and stags decorate the passages, showing what moved our distant relatives, what made them feel alive, what described beauty to them. The animals seem newly made, fresh, and in motion, scattered around the caves, bulls grouped on one wall, another showing bisons passing another, still another showing images of birds and bears. It is the memory of life, struggle, and accomplishment told with ochre, dust, and charcoal.

One thing that stands out in that art and beauty are the outlines of the artists' hands, someone calling across the years, saying "We were here. We saw. We created. We lived." We don't know their names, their families, their struggles, or their accomplishments, save for these paintings. But these hands speak across the centuries: "I am somebody. I am here. I am significant." These hands speak of the most human part of our ancestors--the desire to do something that will last, that will tell others of what we saw and hoped and lived.

Funny, that. It's not just that we live our days, or that we find success, or that we struggle with discouragement. We have this urgent need within us to tell someone else about what we're learning and who we are, a strong desire to be part of something, to tell what we know to someone significant. We want our hand to be seen and recognized, and that compulsion is part of who we are and what marks us as human.

I thought about this while Chris spoke on the oversight of God in our lives, and how we struggle to remember he is with us. Here we have this situation where we forget how much God walks with us, that he is with us is all things, whether in joy or in pain, in success or in defeat, and we need to be reminded continually that God is with us, he is on our side, he is for us. And yet even though we fight to remember this, we still have this deep yearning for significance and value, hoping that someone will listen to us, see what we're doing, and say, "Yes, well done. Beautiful. What a great job. You made me happy. Come here and let me hold you."

This calling of God in our hearts is what causes this desire for recognition. We are called continually and eternally by God to come home, not because we are done playing or because we're in trouble (two reasons why I was always called home by my parents!), but because he is the source of life and joy and significance. He is the one who loves us utterly and completely, and moves across the boundary of heaven and earth to bring us to him. He is the one who can completely understand our pain, our lives, our desire for connection. He is the one who walks with us in our cave of memories, sharing with us our delight in beauty or satisfaction with a job well done.

And today, this moment, God calls us to be with him, and God sees us. We may struggle with that, but the thing is, he's the one who made the first move. Now it is just up to us to make the next move.

So, what will you do today? Who will see your paintings, your cave of memories?

Celebrations and Groove for Thought at the Triple Door

I have passed by the Triple Door often over the years, and always thought it was a dive for rockers. However, last night I went there for a jazz concert with Celebration and Groove for Thought, and I was pleasantly surprised.

First, the Triple Door is somehow connected with Wild Ginger, so some (if not all) of the food is either influence by Wild Ginger or just comes from them. We had a cheese and fruit plate, and the three cheeses were exotic and delicious.I especially loved the Roquefort-type cheese. (It wasn't Roquefort, but it was French frommage, and tasty). They also have more substantial meals, but we were fine with the cheeses. We also had a dessert of their gelato-based banana split. Yummy.

The Triple Door itself is a former 300-seat theatre across the street from Benaroya Hall. It has been remodeled somewhat, with newer seating (arcs seating about 3-4 people scattered around the room) but with the original room design, wall and ceiling details,lights, and sconces. A pleasant smoke-free environment. The only downside is that the restrooms are in the basement, but as long as you can walk, you're OK.

Now for the performance. Of course, I'm biased, but Bellevue College's "Celebration" Jazz Choir was wonderful again. Unfortunately, it wasn't David's turn for the solo, so we had to imagine him doing that, but the other kids were simply great. They all have such great voices and great talents. I overheard Tom talking to one of the girls who had had her song cut due to time constraints - he was apologetic, but she was cheerful and a great team player. That in itself is worth more than the talented egomaniacs commonly seen in the industry.

Celebration performed 6 or 7 songs, and then they made way for "Groove for Thought." It wasn't clear exactly who they were; I mean, were they just 7 guys who sing, or do they have a connection? Are they local? Is this their primary job? After talking with David and others, I gathered that they might be local jazz or vocal teachers at the community college level, but I actually don't know whether that's true or just imagination and speculation. They were very, very good - they definitely show a more mature vocality. Celebration is good, but these guys were very good. They sang about 6 or 7 songs as well. A nice set, and I enjoyed it.

The show started at 7:30 and we finally got out around 10;30 or so. Made for a long day - I wasn't in bed until 11;30.

Unfortunately, this was a one-time show, so if you missed it, too bad. Celebration may be back at the Triple Door in June, but that's still not confirmed.

http://eventful.com/seattle/events/bellevue-college-vocal-jazz-ensemble-celebration-/E0-001-019922690-9

The Mind of My Father

Long ago on ocean’s floor
Slept shells of creatures, a memory’s store
Of endless lives, unnumbered years
Deathly rains, no hope no tears
The crushing weight of time and stone
Countless layers unnamed unknown
Attacked by chisels and hammer blows
A face, a hand, a body shows
Shards of marble talus scatter
Transcendent life from cold, hard matter
Mother’s love holds wounded son
Of many children the only one
A later man, a later day
Carves and shapes with tools and clay
Vision’s eye and skillful hands
Releases beauty, art’s demands
Silent crowds with solemn faces
Scan the line of marble traces
What was silent now is speaking
What was lively now is breaking
Every age its story tells
With large strokes and small details
Age to ageless, man to son
Beauty sleeps, the story done

I will start this story by talking about a man who lived 500 years ago, Michelangelo Buonarroti in Florence, Italy. He is famous for his artwork, but I want to talk about Michelangelo the person and not just statues, paintings, and frescoes. His greatest work, the Pietà, is a marble statue of Mary holding her son Jesus. It is moving, tremendous, poignant, a story we instantly recognize of a mother losing a son, sad, and yet finally at peace. We look at this block of marble and see something that did not exist until Michelangelo tool up his hammer and chisel and created art by removing stone. The interesting thing is that somehow Michelangelo saw that story within the stone. Where did that come from, that seeing, that knowing? If you’re an artist, you know where it comes from – from the life around you that presses down, that teaches, that wounds, that heals. It comes from grappling with cold hard reality and the desire, the hope, the yearning to say “this is me; this is significant. I think, I hope, I dream, I cry. There is beauty, and music, and art, and love. We are more than creatures. We are more than soulless bodies without meaning or purpose. Look at this; this is truth, this is art, this is real.”

Michelangelo, to my mind’s eye, grappled with cold hard stone and a sense of purpose that could not be found with mere reality; he transformed the graves of sea creatures of centuries past into a gripping image of death and hope, loss and love. Before Michelangelo, the stone slept in silence, waiting for the hand of an artist to release the story. Because of Michelangelo, the marble reflects a vision that moves us as we connect emotionally with Mary holding her son. Even if we are not believers in the meta-story of Jesus, we still understand in a moment what loss is, what resignation is, what acceptance is, because Michelangelo was able to communicate his vision and understanding. I cannot see the Pietà without thinking “Dreams are dust. But hope remains.” For that, Michelangelo was an artist, speaking across culture and time to tell his story.

Now, my dad was at his heart a musician whose tools were a piano and a saxophone. I don’t know much about his actual musical education – it seems to me that he did not have rigid musical theory instruction, for he spent his “whole life long” looking for that one lost chord in “Won’t you come home, Bill Bailey” – and if you knew my dad, you knew the earnestness of that search. (There is an excellent photo of him, perhaps about 1937, where he is plugging along with his saxophone in front of a music stand with sheaves of paper. What he is playing, we don’t know. But he is listening only to the music.)

You may know some of the details of his youth, born in the heart of American farm country and raised in the deserts of the Southwest. I don’t know all the loves of his life, but I do know he loved music – he heard the music in his mind, and followed the music in his heart. He told us later of his desires to be in a band as good as Benny Goodman’s, that archetype of the big band sound. I think Dad was confident enough of his playing and in love enough with music to think he might easily blend in to Goodman’s band. And by living in California through much of his life, he felt a little closer to where music was being made.

He didn’t get to live that dream. Like many artists, he still had to make a living, but unlike many artists, he was faithful to his family’s needs and worked hard to provide for them. It wasn’t easy in the postwar years to find a job that paid well, but he found one at an aircraft company, just out of college with his Masters degree, and he stayed at that job as a systems analyst for 32 years until he retired. He raised six kids, keeping them clothed, housed, and fed, and every so often would pull out his saxophone and play along to the music they created. But he didn’t have much time to be by himself and just play, and dream, and be joyous in the music. There were kids, there was his marriage, his job, his house, his car, and all called for attention and maintenance. I imagine it was overwhelming at times.

The difficult thing for my father – or perhaps the difficult thing for me, his son – is that so much of this is learned by inference, from others, and through casual details tossed out as part of larger stories. I had not known, for example, of Dad’s desire to be part of a professional band, or perhaps I just didn’t understand it and pay attention to it, but now that I have grown sons struggling to make it in the music and entertainment industry, I have more comprehension of just how difficult, silly, and impossible that is as a goal. I’m practical and focused; what was he thinking, thinking he could make it as a jazz player? Better to stay, be steady, remain hard at work. There will be time later to enjoy the music; for now, there are tasks and duties and accomplishments. We didn’t talk about those things, my Dad and I, and that meant I didn’t understand what his hopes were, what things he kept in his heart, what gave his life meaning even when it remained buried under duties, tasks, jobs, responsibilities.

But I think I understand it a bit more. My sons are convinced that something in them is awakened by music, that there is something they hear that they want to tell others. They are not complete without their music, and no matter how hard I try to be practical and to discourage them, they insist on being foolish, and silly, and impractical. They insist that their music will bring joy to others, or help bring understanding, or invoke awareness and insight. They think that music is important.

And they give me a flash of insight to my dad, plugging away on his saxophone, searching for that lost chord in “Bill Bailey,” dealing with kids and wife and job, and wishing – I think – that it had been different, that he might have found a way to keep his music alive and forefront. How hard it must have been to have joy in his music and yet have to give a lot of it up because his sense of duty and honor kept him on the path of normal life. How much I wish I would have had that conversation about what music meant to him.

It helps me understand him better to see my dad in our sons’ love of music. I hope I can be a good dad to them and encourage them to do impossible, silly, impractical things, to reach for the stars because there might be some stardust along the way. I wish I had seen my dad’s own reach for those stars, because he spilled some moonlight on his kids. We’ve turned out wild, unpredictable, feisty, grabbing life, living in the moment, and yet we have big dreams and great hopes for our kids. (And somehow we also picked up the idea that the world is our stage, and everyone wants to hear our opinions, stories, and ideas.)

Dad, thanks for hearing that music, and passing along to us the love of life, and beauty, and art, and music. (And for me, books. Especially books!) You gave us the chance to explore the world around us. We are your children, and we honor you for all you gave to us.

Amor De Mi Alma

Yo no nací sino para quereros;
Mi alma os ha cortado a su medida;
Por hábito del alma misma os quiero.
Escrito está en mi alma vuestro gesto;
Yo lo leo tan solo que aun de vos
Me guardo en esto.
Quanto tengo confiesso yo deveros;
Por vos nací, por vos tengo la vida,
Y por vos é de morir ye por vos muero

I was born to love only you
My soul has formed you to its measure
I want you as a garment for my soul
Your very image is written on my soul
Such indescribable intimacy, I hide even from you
All that I have, I owe to you
For you I was born, and for you I live
I want you as a garment for my soul
And for you I must die
And for you I give my last breath
For you

Garcilaso de la Vega 1501-36

"Hello Dolly" at the Fifth Avenue Theatre

Hello Dolly - March 22, 2009

Michael Stewart/Jerry Herman Book/Music

Dolly Levi - Jennifer Lewis

Horace Vandergelder - Pat Cashman

Ernestina - Julie Briskman

Ambrose Kemper - Matt Owen

Ermengarde Vandergelder - Krystal Armstrong

Cornelius Hackl - Greg McCormick Allen

Barnaby Tucker - Mo Brady

Minnie Fay - Tracee Beazer

Irene Malloy - Suzanne Bouchard

Mrs. Rose - Cheryl Massey-Peters

Rudolph - Richard Gray

Judge - Ty Willis

 

I have always disliked this show - too big and brassy, too dated, too slow, too long, too superfluous.

However, the Fifth Avenue production has changed my mind. From the opening downbeat I immediately realized this is a lush, full show. The orchestra pit had the full 22-member "Broadway" orchestra, and the sound was simply wonderful - full, rich, brassy, fun. (This show made me realize that a "full orchestra" really makes a big, big difference in the sound. They even supported the saxophone quartet. Wonderful!)

The show itself is, of course, a piece of fluff. Dolly Levi (Jennifer Lewis) is a widow looking for a rich guy to settle down with. She's a fixer of others' lives; surely she can fix herself up with Horace Vandergelder (Pat Cashman), the rich guy from Yonkers. Horace is set up by Dolly with hat-maker Irene Malloy (a wonderful Suzanne Bouchard), but Dolly decides that Irene isn't right for Horace, because Horace is right for her, Dolly. Meanwhile, Horace's two assistants, Cornelius (Greg Allen) and Barnaby (Mo Brady), decide to leave the store for the day and go to New York City. Cornelius and Barnaby end up in the hat store, where they fall in love with Irene and Minnie; Cornelius comes in with Dolly and hijinks ensue. Dolly then sets up Cornelius with "Mrs. Cash" (Julie Briskman? not in program), which goes disastrously as planned at the Harmonium Gardens. Meanwhile, Cornelius and Barnaby are also dining with Irene and Minnie at the Gardens, and more hijinks ensue. In the end, everyone gets hooked up with the proper partner, and love fills the air.

With that said - a fun, big, bright show. Jennifer Lewis is simply wonderful - funny, brassy, big, beautiful, and very comfortable in her role. (She's not that big in real life: at the Talkback after the show, she appeared in her normal clothes and is possibly a size 8.) Pat Cashman was a rare treat - I've seen him before in non-musical contexts; here he carries his role very well. Greg McCormick Allen in tremendous in his role as Cornelius. And the ensemble is truly wonderful, too - David Armstrong, who directed and choreographed, picked some of the finest dancers in Seattle; the "Waiters' Gallop" was the showstopper. Even the title song, "Hello Dolly!", which I have heard until I'm sick of it throughout the years, was fresh and fun.

It's a long show - we got out around 10 or so - but it was a lot of fun, and it didn't seem too long - that is, it was long enough to carry the story without making me feel like I wanted it to end.

Staging was fine. The sets were nicely done, with flys and rollouts. The dressmaker's shop pivoted around the stage. The staircase at the Harmonium Gardens was just right - enough to be opulent, but not overpowering like something out of "Sunset Boulevard." Lighting was mostly fine. There were a couple of dark spots where actors walked out of the fixed spots as part of their blocking during a song (which, in my opinion, is a Bad Thing and a sign that someone's not paying attention to the lights or the marks). A few times the spot "lost" Jennifer Lewis, which again, for a show in its second week, shouldn't be happening. Sound was wonderful - after the disastrous, muddy sound of "Memphis," this was a great, clear, bright, enveloping musical score. Costumes were odd - there were a few outfits that Dolly wore that looked "flat." I'm not sure if it was because they were trying for a "flat" look, but it didn't always mix with the other costumes, which appeared to have more detail. (I didn't like the blue and magenta outfit, for example - the material looked like flannel.) I also thought the band outfits looked like the cheap ones from "The Music Man" before the transformation. But, again, maybe that was part of the show.

I do want to talk about the "Talkback" after the show. The second Sunday of every performance is "Talkback"; the actors come out after the show and take questions from the audience. It was at the Talkback that Jennifer Lewis' charm and humor really came out. One question: "How did you get started?" brought "I was five, and sang a song in church - 'Lord, I've Come So Far' - you can see how I thought about myself." She was quite funny.

There's one more week to see the show - if you can, go see it.

UPDATE 3/25/09

I want to also mention that James Scheider and Krystal Armstrong are in this show - we had seen them years ago when they were in "Les Misérables" in Burien. James was Valjean, and Krystal was (if I recall correctly) Éponine. Nice to see them at the 5th!

Painting Deserts

I grew up in the last millennium, and travel was the way people kept in touch. Just about every year my mom would pack up the Ford station wagon with food, baggage, and six kids; my dad would get behind the wheel; and off we'd go to Arizona to visit relatives. I remember how we drove straight through, stopping only for gas & bathroom breaks, and that as one of the younger kids I usually ended up in the far end of the station wagon, over the wheel well where I could feel the hum of the tires on the hot asphalt.

There was no easy way to get there - no matter what route we took, the road always ended up diminishing to an old asphalt highway, two lanes each direction, and crowded with trucks and cars whooshing to their destinations. And the routes seemed to be laid out to maximize inconvenience for travelers, going from one faded town after another, zig-zagging across the desert, with signs every mile announcing yet another Stuckey's restaurant, another museum, another tourist stop. Common to every sign were the tempting words "ICE COLD AIR CONDITIONING."

Yes, it was a long, hot trip through dust and sand to faraway horizons. But at the end - oh! - there was iced tea and cold lemonade, and pools, and air conditioning - and family, and celebrations, and wonderful surprises. The journey was made better knowing that something great lay ahead, and we were reminded by our parents that it was "just a few more miles." We were, with our parents' help, painting the desert with hope, coloring the pale landscape with expectation.

And I think about how my life resembles those trips across the desert - a long journey in a hot, crowded car, through a desert with signs and temptations to distract me. I don't have the long arm of my dad reaching back to deal with the closest kids. I don't have my mom packing things for the trip so I'm entertained and fed along the way.

What keeps me going? I like to think that it's the end point - that one true thing ahead of me, a shining eternal city. But sometimes I'm in the desert, and things around me are bleak. Will I ever conquer a habit? Will I ever lose a fear? Will my dream (you know the dream I'm talking about - we all have one) ever really come into being?

The problem is I need both truth and - something else. I need someone to be in the car with me, encouraging me when I'm convinced I'll never arrive, someone to give me water when I'm thirsty, someone who knows the way and can get me there.

Some people manage to get through life without someone helping them. I admire them for their strength and courage - but I'm not one of them. I need someone to be there with me when I'm tired, or impatient, or blocked. I need a traveling companion to paint the deserts with hope and expectations so that I will continue on my journey to that shining city on an eternal hill

Hiding Behind Goodness

We all have a story that explains us. For many, that story includes meeting Jesus. And how that meeting came to be is delightfully unique for each of us. But for some of us, we've strayed from that meeting and find ourselves wondering what's gone wrong.

I was thinking about my meeting with Jesus, a long time ago. A kind woman at a bus stop took the time to talk to a self-absorbed teenager. Somehow that message of believing in Jesus took hold of me, and resolved the question of "who am I? Am I significant? Am I loved?"

Jesus came to set me free, and that he did indeed. Then I discovered the powerful pull of religion.

I followed the people around me who believed in Jesus, and took upon myself the task of doing what good Christians must do -- I surely wouldn't want God to be disappointed in me! I'm not sure at what point in that life that the burden of religion took the place of the yoke of faith, but I put those chains on early and eagerly.

Why would I do such an apparently stupid thing? Well, I don't know about you, but I did it for one main reason: safety. It was far, far safer to follow a set of rules and procedures than it was to live by faith and acceptance. Why believe that God loves me when I can know he has to love me because I'm doing all the things he tells me to do?

And by doing what God told me to do without letting God rule in my life -- that kept the most frightening thing about God away from me. Let's face it - when you ask for God to rule your life, you are giving up your life. At any moment you might be asked to do something you don't want to do, go where you don't want to go, say what you don't want to say.

I thought about that safety this week as I listened to Chris speak on Colossians 3:3-4. I've spent so much time staying safe. I've done the right things -- but with certain limits on my time and attention.

I've tried to be good without becoming too good. But the thing is, it's impossible to have life this way.

That's what the scripture passage says to us. "Christ is our life" - not religion, not tasks, not goodness. The things we do because we're Christian? Oh, they're still necessary - but they come out of being in Christ.

Being in Christ - finding our lives in Christ - means that when we try other things to give us life, we won't find life. Try as hard as you want, pick the biggest numbers you want, but when you multiply by zero, you always get zero. But take Christ's yoke upon your shoulder and you'll find rest for your weary soul. Jesus isn't a religious leader we can admire. He's really the source of life.

Anchor Management

Think about the week that lies ahead of you right now. What are you looking forward to? If you're like me, you're looking forward to some of the challenges you have in life - maybe it's a project at work that will engage all your talent and attention. Maybe it's a class in school that you are secretly enjoying in spite of your protests because it's making you think. Or maybe it's just the general events of life that come your way, because you like facing them and proving yourself. Now, think about what will result when you're done with your challenges? What do you return to? I think we return to the things that anchor us in life, because we ultimately want something predictable, safe, and warm - we want, in other words, to come home at the end of the day, to relax, kick off our shoes, and enjoy our family and friends.

We all have these anchors in our lives, and they can be good things. Sometimes, however, anchors can - pardon the pun - be a real drag. Sometimes instead of using an anchor as a place to tie up in safety, we use anchors to weigh us down to a familiar place in life - we are done traveling and growing; now it's time to stay put. Or even - we use our anchors as a way to avoid change. "Can't leave my spot - I've got this anchor, and it's taking all my effort just to hold the chain."

I think we use these anchors because we are very, very comfortable with what we have in life. Hey, I'm there with you. (Please tell me I'm not the only one!) I enjoy my job, I enjoy my family, I enjoy seeing my sons grow up and move off into their careers. It's all very good. I'm anchored. But if I can be frank here - I'm using my anchor to protect against change. You don't see my anchor, because it's not that obvious. But I take it with me wherever I go, and before I make any commitments, I check my chain to see how tightly it's straining against the weight. I cling to my anchor when I'm afraid of what's ahead, when I want to slow down or stop movement.

As I thought about this anchor of safety and security, I was reminded me of a story in the New Testament. It might be familiar to you - you'll find it in Mark 9:14-29 - but I want to focus on one key phrase, uttered by the father in response to Jesus' offer to heal his son: "Anything is possible if a person believes." The man replies, "I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!"

Do you see this struggle here? This man has to choose between anchors. One anchor is the anchor of familiar, ordinary life. Every day this man had to deal with protecting his son from danger. It was heart-wrenching, it was hard work, but it was all he knew - it was his anchor. And suddenly he's asked to choose a new anchor - believing in Jesus to heal his son. Which will he choose? He has both chains in his hand. He wants to let go of one - but which will he take? The ordinary and familiar, or the new and unpredictable?

I think that man would have kept his familiar anchor except for one thing - he was his son's father. For his own sake, maybe he would not have moved. And I also think the choice seemed unfair to him - why would Jesus be pushing him at this moment of pain? Why didn't he get a "pass"? How unfair of God to ask him to drop his chain. And yet, there was his son, daily in great need, and he himself unable to help his son. All of a sudden, there were two clear choices before him.

But in that quick moment, he chose the anchor of hope. And that is the story. He took on a new anchor, and dropped the old one. With that choice, his life was changed - for it was that one moment when Jesus reached out and healed his son.

I think that's the lesson. To put our hope in Christ, to have him as our anchor. The seas of stress, the waves of disappointment may come. We may feel very, very provoked and unwilling to change. But - Jesus calls us. Believe in him. Trust in him to be the anchor of your soul.

Bellevue College Winter Concert 14-Mar-2009 "Where Earth Meets the Sky"

Concert Choir/Chamber Choir

Bellevue Presbyterian Church Hall

Sung by the Concert Choir (all songs by Z Randall Stroope http://www.zrstroope.com/)
Lamentations of Jeremiah
The Pasture
Inscription of Hope
Amor de mi Alma
Tournez, Tournez!

Sung by the Chamber Choir (all songs by Z Randall Stroope )
How Can I Keep from Singing?
Sure on This Shining Night
I Am Not Yours

Peaceable Kingdom (Arr. Randall Thompson http://www.singers.com/composers/randallthompson.html)

Sung by the Concert Choir
Last Words of David (Arr. Randall Thompson)
A Girl's Garden [sung by choir women] (Arr. Randall Thompson)
De Animals Are Comin [sung by choir men]
MLK (by U2)
Omnia Sol (Arr. Z Randall Stroope)

A beautiful, beautiful concert. Lush, rich harmonies, a feast for the ears. The Winter Concert has been the highlight for me for the Bellevue College choir concerts. The Fall Concerts are good, but the choir is still getting into the groove; the Spring concert is good, but it just hasn't topped the Winter Concert.

The first quarter of the concert was sung by the Concert Choir, and consisted entirely of songs arranged by Z Randall Stroope. I have heard some of them previously, but was struck by the beauty of the "Inspiration of Hope," a poem found on the cellar walls in Cologne, Germany. Truly wonderful.

"Amor de mi Alma" also was wonderful.

And I have to mention "MLK" - I had not heard this song before tonight (OK, I'm not into U2). But it starts out with this beautiful tenor solo, tender, plaintive - and then I discover it's David up there, singing the solo. The choir hums in the background and then comes in fully, but what a treat it was to hear David's voice singing out front of the choir. And I must also say, he's able to fill the hall with his voice -- there were no microphones for this concert. I was of course proud of my son, but I was also impressed with his talent and with the way his voice has grown in the past year.

The closing song was sweet and sad, and a fitting close:

Omnia sol temperat
Absens in remota
Atua me fideliter
Fidem mean noto

I have been so impressed with Tom Almli's direction of the vocal music at Bellevue College. The range of music he works the students through and the resulting output is always surprising and pleasing.

Why don't they show me more love?

I went to church and didn’t feel the love. No one spoke to me. No one stayed to listen to my cry. A church is supposed to love people. Why don’t we see more love in church? Why does everyone just talk about love but not do it?

Why don’t “we” show more love? Well, I can’t speak for “we.” I can only speak for “me.”

I am tired, anxious, worried, stressed. I bring into service all that’s been affecting me and my week. It’s all I can do to appear friendly to the greeters.

And the people around me - some are quite self-satisfied and successful, and superficial to those who approach them. Why would I want to approach them and pretend to have a conversation? We have nothing in common except being in the same place. It’s painful to start a conversation with someone who is obviously looking for someone more capable & more interesting & frankly more useful to come rescue them from a conversation with me.

Some of those around me are just as anxious to avoid contact as I am. There’s the anxiety of disappointment - will that person think less of me? (And, will I think less of them?) And, there are some who “know” me in the sense that they know my name and some of my skills or experiences. But they don’t really know me, and we have no time or opportunity to get to know each other. We are all busy with our jobs, our families, our lives.

Church is attendance, and sometimes participation, which means standing or sitting when directed. It’s all I can do to appear to be composed during church. You want me now to step out of my security zone and approach people I don’t know & possibly suffer rejection?

It’s a bit much for me to be told I should be more “loving.” Perhaps that’s true. But as long as we’re discussing things I should be doing, perhaps we can add I should be exercising more, and watching what I eat, and spending my money carefully.

I get that. I have the lists of things I should be doing.

It’s not that I don’t know about these things. The reason I’m not doing them is because - at the heart of it - I’m broken, and alone, and tired, and weary. What I come to church for is succor and balm and incense; in return, I get flailed for not doing what I “should” be doing.

Well, yeah. Add them to the list. I get that list from everyone around me. I should be working harder at my job. I should be a better parent to my kids. I should be a better husband to my wife. I should be a more responsible driver. I get that list wherever I go. So when I get the list from church, I add it to my pile of Things I Should Be Doing.

So far I’ve managed to exist by failing at doing the lists. My strategy is somewhat successful. What I need in order to be “friendly” with the people around me is a different heart and outlook on life. I need to love people, to care about them, to consider them as something valuable to interact with. Telling me more, and louder, what to do is not accomplishing that. 

Boston Day 3 - or is it?

We are still not fully synched up with the time difference between the west coast and Boston. After dinner on Saturday (Legal Seafood - delicious seafood at reasonable prices), we came back to the hotel and watched TV for a while. TV watching means "I have a controller, and I'm not afraid to use it." (I am of the persuasion that it's possible to flip through every channel looking for a show, and to do so whenever one show drags, loses my interest, or goes to a commercial.)

But even though there were many choices of shows to watch, we both found it very hard to stay awake much past 9:00, and we were both asleep by 9:30 pm Boston time. I just woke up a few minutes ago to a dark room, the heater running, and realized that even though my computer says it's Sunday, according to west coast time it's still Saturday. It's gonna be a hard day today if I'm this fouled up with my sleep patterns.

I think we were both just tired from the stress of the audition, walking around so much, and then not having anything to do Saturday night. (Watching TV shows 15 seconds at a time is, technically, not really watching it as a consumable, understandable storyline.) I took the tour yesterday of Berklee, as I said, which involved a bit of walking, as the college is scattered across some 20 buildings in Back Bay, Boston, but most of our tour was through the buildings at 150 Mass Ave. (Note that only yokels, tourists, and clueless parents call it "Massachusetts Avenue." Same with Comm Ave - Commonwealth Avenue. Learn these things before you come, and you fit in that much better.) Berklee owns the block around 150 Mass Ave, including buildings 134, 136, 142, and 150 Mass Ave, and has connected them underground, so that while you might have separate entrances above ground, you can reach your classes, dorms, and cafeteria (The Caff) underground.

The practice rooms and studio rooms in these basement areas are in use 21 hours a day. They are shut down only between 6:00 and 9:00 am. Yes, in the morning. There are usually ensembles practicing and recording in the late evening and early morning hours. The technical setup for these rooms is state-of-the-art, and the support for recording and producing is incredible. I'm much more impressed after the tour than I was beforehand. Everywhere we went we saw students, proctors, assistants,and teachers working on projects. The student teacher ratio at Berklee is 8:1 (but I wonder if that's including assistants); the current enrollment is around 4500 students, with an expected enrollment of 5000 in September. Not too shabby.

Students at Berklee have, as part of their admission, a required purchase of a MacBook. Berklee is entirely Apple-based -- PCs are not supported at all, from networking to file sharing to peripherals to programs. If you don't use a Macintosh - and more specifically a certain level of Macintosh - you are not going to be able to connect at Berklee. They require you to purchase a Macintosh bundled with their required programs when you enroll. If you are currently using a MacBook that meets their minimum standards, then you are OK. The MacBook they require is $3000, including the software bundle. While that seems high (high? that seems outrageous!), you are getting a state-of-the-art laptop with a 4-year warrantee and free software upgrades the entire time, plus discounts on any software you install. If you price the software outside of the bundle, it works out to about $7-9000, so it's actually not too bad of a deal. Plus, Berklee does not use many textbooks, and the ones they use are written by their professional staff, cost between $15-20, and are essentially 3-hole--punched guides. Our tour guide, Mike, told us that in his last two semesters he really hasn't purchased a textbook.

Based on what I see, this is probably the right thing. Berklee is all about producing and learning, and while there is an enormous amount of technical details to learn, a lot of it is done through classroom instruction, 1 on 1 mentoring, and hands-on learning. They really stress doing as part of learning, and still they offer a true degree program, credentialed and recognized. Students take core academic classes required in any liberal arts college, and then have their musical studies as part of this, with more and more emphasis upon the music.

There is a separate "certificate" program that emphasizes just the music, but does not grant a degree; instead, you have a non-academic track, with most of (if not the same) classes in music as the academic-track students. The outcome in either case is certification by Berklee, but the "certificate" track doesn't give you a degree you can use to go on to a masters or doctorate program.

In the end, you come out a very well-rounded musician with a wide variety of skills. I'm still not sure what the acceptance criteria is - as I said yesterday, some of the stuff I saw and heard wasn't really exceptional - but the rigor of the studies is more apparent now that I've taken the tour.

Being at Berklee is more than just the music and learning. There is also Greater Boston to explore, and there is the proximity of Berklee to entertainment and culture. The theatre district is perhaps a mile away, maybe more, and there is the interconnected Prudential Center and Copley Square for year-around shopping, dining, and entertainment. We discovered last night that Copley and Prudential are connected; when we walked to Copley Square, we took surface streets and nearly froze our ears off, it was so cold and windy. (About 30 or so, with a 15 mile an hour winds.) A helpful staff member at the Marriott showed us how to get to Copley via the Marriott. We had dinner at Legal Seafood in Copley, then walked back to the Prudential Center by the connected walkway. Once you leave Prudential Center, it's a show two-block walk to either our hotel on Huntington Avenue or the dorms at 150 Mass Ave. If you really want to avoid the walk, you could take the Green Line from Prudential Center to Symphony Hall and walk the 100 feet to the dorms.

I can't imagine having to walk through the cold that much, but apparently it's just something you do. The recent series of heavy snows and cold here were unpleasant, but although there was some disruption, it wasn't exceptional, and students just learned to deal with it.

As I said earlier, walking around Boston is an interesting experience, because traffic, lights, and pedestrians intermix in unruly ways. It is pretty much OK to walk across streets at intersections at will - simply look to see that it's safe for the moment, and start walking. Traffic lights (for pedestrians) are often hard to spot, and traffic might be stopped for no apparent reason. So just start walking. If you want to get somewhere, walk, take the subway, take a bus, or take a cab. This is not a good city to own a car in, as parking is extremely limited and expensive. Yesterday when we arrived at the audition hall, a few families were double-parked trying to get their kids and their musical instruments out of their cars and into the building. A colorful BPD (Boston Police Department) officer was also there with an electronic ticketing device, and was ticketing them for stopping. There was a colorful conversation going on between the officer and the families, with a lot of unfounded genealogical speculation being said by the families, and a lot of colorful physical instruction being said by the officer. A true Boston moment. That moment made me realize how we had done the right thing by not renting a car. We would never have used it, except to get from and to the airport. In all my time here, I saw only one open parking spot on the street, and parking in a lot will cost you from $18-40 a day.

Later today David and I are going to go on a tour of Boston. We'll probably take the trolley tour - Christie recommended it as a great way to get the overview of Boston w/o walking in the cold, windy streets, and even though it is a good walking city, it's still pretty darn cold.  And since it's almost truly Sunday now (it's 11:40 in Seattle), I'll get back to bed and try to get back to sleep. I can always just turn the TV on, leave the sound off, and browse for a while, too.

Boston Day 2

David's audition was at 9:15; he was told he could warm up at 8:45 (which he did). The audition was him playing for a few minutes to an accompaniment tape, then a chance to play along "live" with the auditors, reading a chart and playing in different styles. I think he did OK. It's hard to tell, because the process was very rushed - his actual audition and interview lasted about 10 minutes.

Before his audition we gathered in the David Friedman room at the Uchida building, where we saw a few tapes of performances at Berklee and some live music. One taped performer did a live "layering" concert: she had a control board on her lap, and recorded 8 bar sound loops made with various "found" instruments, snapping fingers, clapping, odd sounds from her mouth (breathing, smacking) and some vocal loops. Then she sang a song, interweaving and mixing the loops (or even subloops). Quite a performance. We then saw a girl sing "Defying Gravity" from Wicked. A good rendition, not the best I've heard. Then a band came up, with (I presume) seniors on the piano and drums, and a junior on bass. The trio was good, but again, not fantastic. I was actually not impressed too much. The piano player performed a set of songs he wrote that had similar styles and construction. I asked him how Berklee affected his style and performance, but I don't think he understood my question - i was trying to get at "Has going to Berklee expanded your range, your style, your tastes?" His answers were too narrowly focused on things like "Well, Berklee has helped my stage presence." But after lunch, I came back and took the campus tour with the guy (Mike)  who was the piano player. He's actually a bit more observant and intelligent - I think I just ask bad question.

Mike Lombordo showed us what Berklee has to offer technically by letting us see the rehearsal halls, the labs, the libraries, the support center, and the practice rooms. This isn't just a study place. And, he lessened some of my fears about the cost of Berklee. Although they transfer no music credits from any other school, they do allow you to test out of the early requirements. If you can meet their standards, you can come in at a later level. So that can reduce the cost. Plus, you can work on campus to make a bit more money. And, Mike is currently working with his trio to arrange a tour of the midwest, and he's making some money already. So, he's not just some theoretical guy - he's actually starting to make a living.

I walked around the campus (I think they have 22 buildings), and got to see what it's like to be here. I questioned him about safety - what's it like walking back to your apartment in the dark and cold of winter. He said it's no problem, and if there is a problem, campus security can walk you back. So that was good.

We'll be heading out now to dinner. Legal Seafood in Copley Square.

Boston Day 1

Boston is an interesting town. The streets were laid down with great care by drunken cows, so it's fairly easy to get around as long as you keep your cow drunk.

We arrived here at 7:30 am, got our bags promptly (yay JetBlue), and got a cab to the hotel (Midtown Hotel, corner of Mass Ave and Huntington). Our first room had not been changed over, so we had to get a new room at the far end of the hotel. As we had not slept much on the red-eye flight, we were pretty tired; the extra hassle about the room was - a hassle. But we got in, and David promptly took a nap.

I stayed awake, took a shower, and dressed, then walked across the street to the Prudential Center, a combination mall, convention center, hotel, and apartment complex. I got a cup of coffee (not a "regulah" coffee, which is coffee w/ milk and sugar, I think), and walked over to the Berklee College of Music, which is at 921 Boylston. Google thinks Berklee is at 1400 Boylston, which it is, but that is the site of the classrooms. Luckily I had contacted them earlier, so I knew this trick. I met with a fine gentleman from Financial Aid, who talked to me about how to finance this education.

It's $50k a year for Berklee (including room and board); financial aid (grants) would total between $3k and 12k (if accepted, of course), and work-study would account for perhaps another $3-4k. So somehow we'd have to come up with about $35k a year.

I asked the guy about what debt load most students left with, and he said he couldn't really say - but in later conversations it came out that $80k-100k is about the average for students who don't arrange for grants.

Yikes! That's a lot of money for David to be responsible for.

I came back from the meeting, woke David, and we went to lunch. Our room is right across the street from the grand First Church of Christ, Scientist, in Boston. In America, Boston is an old city. By European standards, of course, it's young. There are older buildings scattered around Boston surrounded by newer buildings of the 20th century - just across the street from the church building is the Prudential Center, snazzy and new. A lot of the Back Bay (where we are) comprises 4-story brownstones, built, I'd guess, in the late 19th century.

The street we face (Huntington) is an example of the several layers of roads in Boston. It is a bifurcated 2-way street, 2 lanes each direction, but about halfway down the block (just to the left of this picture) another road running underground emerges to sunlight, and the surface street goes around the emergent street. At some point further west, the emergent street and Huntington merge together. It's a little confusing to have a lane of cars suddenly emerge to your left, but this is Boston.

Another feature of Boston is that crosswalks and green lights are merely decorative additions to the environment. There are crosswalk signals, but the buttons to turn the light from red to green apparently don't work. I waited for over 5 minutes for a green signal, with scores of people crossing against the light (and darting around traffic); I finally gave up and crossed the street against the light. The street was bare of cars in either direction for at least 2 blocks each way. As I got the curb on the other side, the light finally changed.

David and I flew all this way for his audition, which is tomorrow at 9:15. He is allowed to come in a half-hour early to warm up / practice; however, even though we're here and there are practice rooms at Berklee, he can't go in today to practice, because he's not a student, and if he were to practice, this would mean...something. OK, it's their school, but it would be helpful if they'd provide a reason.

Well, more updates tomorrow. David's supposed to be going out tonight with his friends in town, so I might have the TV remote all to myself!

Memphis - Reaching for the Merely Attainable

Most reviews talk about the show as a show - is it entertaining, does it hold together, can you leave the theatre humming a song - but in this case the review must also talk about the show as a message and as an historical record.

First, the show itself. It is a glittering, LOUD, splashy, funny, at times uplifting show. The dancing and singing are excellent when they are not astounding. The gist of the show is this: Huey Calhoun, a white dropout & a failure for most of his life, wanders into a "Negro Bar" in downtown Memphis on Beale street. DelRay Jones, the owner of the bar, is not happy to see a white guy show up, but Huey is in love with the sound that he hears, and he's unable to resist coming in to listen. DelRay's unmarried sister, Felisha Farrell (her stage name), is singing, and she's hot. Later, Huey is working at a department store when he gets his last chance to keep his job -- he must sell at least 5 records during his shift or he's fired. He puts on the R&B records, replacing Perry Como's No-Doze, and he sells 29 records. From that initial success, he sweet-talks his way into his own radio show in Memphis, playing his "black" records for the white audience. Felisha debuts on the radio station, becomes a success, and all is well at the end of the first act. They even fall in love, an interracial couple in Memphis.

Then, in the second act, things inevitably go awry. Huey and Felisha have different objectives. Huey wants to say in Memphis to be a big frog in a small pond; Felisha has a chance to go to NEW YORK CITY! and become a big star on a big stage. The forces that raised Huey to prominence attempt to control and change him to make him more acceptable, but they fail, and Huey fails. Meanwhile, Felisha makes it big in NEW YORK CITY! and has a bittersweet final moment with Huey: her star ascendant, and his career sinking into the forgotten pile of would-bes and has-beens.

The music covers a wide variety of genres, circulating mostly around the "black" sound. Huey is accused of trying to steal the music and make it white, because "all rock-and-roll is, is black music speeded up." (The issue of Western tonality and structure is, of course, ignored.) The performances of the music itself are outstanding - Montego as Felisha is stunning - an unbelievably fine voice singing all kinds of styles, from gospel to R&B to soul. Huey is also fabulous but in a different way - he's not vocally extravagant, but he is wonderfully entertaining and talented, and his voice is the medium for his message. I must mention one character (whose character or name I don't recall; see below for my comment about the lack of information about the cast) - he's a large man who is the janitor at the radio station and he gets his chance to break out on live TV. He goes absolutely wild, at one point landing in a split on stage. (The audience simply gasped out loud at this point. We all realized just how impossible this should be; I commented that it was likely done with CGI, it was done so well.)

All in all, entertaining, and worth the 30 or 40 bucks for a cheap seat.

However, now I'll turn to the story and the message of the show. First, the story is hard to follow, because the advertising of the show mentions that it is the "Birth of Rock and Roll." I kept expecting to see something about the breakout of R&R from the black community, but that never happened. (We see black music performers in front of white audiences, but we don't see white music performers taking up black music and turning it away from the black experience, a record that this musical attempts to tell but never understands how to tell.) So maybe it was the background to the birth of R&R, and I would see that. Well, perhaps, but then I was left as an audience member to put the pieces together, but the show did not give me enough to put together.

It takes a long time to figure out, but the show is not about Memphis the actual city, or the birth of rock and roll in a literal sense, or even the actual transfer of music from the black experience to the white experience. Instead, it is a "message" show where black people are fun, creative, and without flaws (only a few minor things such as distrust are evident), and the white world is cynical, lying, and manipulative, except when it's stupid and clueless. The idea that music transcends experience is almost stated, but it's lost in the layer of goodliness of the downtrodden.

It's not a bad show. Just not well developed. Unfortunately for the show, there are parallels to today's political scene, and the show's creators and performers can't break out from them. This makes the show interesting and supportive of the current outlook for the self-congratulatory elite, but it also traps the show into a very narrow popularity of the 52:48 split. (The after-the-show talkback went off the rails when the audience had to remind everyone in attendance of how astute, righteous, and well-mannered they all were for making the correct selection in November so that we could "hope that we would never return to those days!" [applause by all] I wanted to yell out "shut up and sing" -- it is not always about you, you know. Sometimes a show is just a show.) The show is lazy, and avoids pursuing the problem it alludes to - does the black experience provide anything of value to the white experience, and can the two in any way co-mingle or share or become something new and different because of the blending? The message is "black music is valuable because it comes from the black world," and not "black music is valuable because it is music." The message is not wrong or bad - but it's not a timeless message. It's a limited message. Yes, I can see that black music explaining the black is experience is valuable in itself to give me insight into the black experience - but is that it? That's the whole point? Do I then do anything with that information, or is it just a factoid? Like a class in a subject I'll never need again: here is some information; there will be a test.

Yes, I get it. Over and over and over again. The audience for this show is the liberal elite of Seattle, who loved being told how beautiful and courageous they were for their liberal beliefs, and needed to remind everyone in the house that anyone who disagreed with the message was evil, rotten,and part of the past. OK, great. However, the theatre business will die if this is all it produces - shows to congratulate the dwindling audiences. Why pay money to go to a show that offends me, over and over? (Not necessarily this show; I'm speaking of the trend to "message" shows that largely preach to the people who aren't already going to the shows.) Where was the truly challenging message that putting the arts into a box that supports one political side is a way to destroy art? That art is more - has to be more - than simply something that supports a triumphant political view? If the world that Memphis is trying to replace is completely bad, how did it get there, and how did it survive so long? Are people who hold old beliefs simply & completely wrong about everything, and are they inhuman, or did they live in the world they inhabited, unaware of an unexamined life, but with common decency and the ability to learn? Were they people or caricatures?

The show tries desperately to say that "Memphis" is a stage of life, and a state of mind. That there is something good about music and the message of music; that culture and color are not as important; that music lives even when people and prejudices die. But it never actually gets to that point. The second act is especially unshaped, even as the first act is a glossy overview of the highlights of the fun parts of the world of R&B. What exactly is this show about? If it's just entertainment, then it's a good show. If it's trying to be more than that (and how it does try!), it's not a good show.

Also, here are a few quibbles for the 5th Avenue which generally does a first-rate job in everything: why don't they put the cast list online? The show information at their website contains no information about the cast or production team. Also, the sound was dreadful, at once overly loud and mushy. I thought it was just my ears, but others around me kept saying "what did they just say?" even as the speakers were blowing their hair back a few rows. Montego/Felisha was incredibly articulate which helped, and Huey was also good and crisp, but most numbers were simply mush. I enjoyed the music and dancing, but I could not follow the words. Hint to the producers: making something louder does not necessarily make it easier to understand. If you don't want us to hear the words, then just have the actors make stuff up. You could save money on a librettist that way, too.

Costumes were generally good, but because there was no time period explicitly stated, it was hard to keep synchronized - did people in the 50s really wear those clothes and those colors? They looked more mid-60s, but the show seemed to say that the first part was in the 50s. Very confusing. The set was clever, with projected images and videos being used to give depth to the staging. The movement of various elements up and down from the stage floor was interesting to watch. And the opening (Gator as a white announcer turning into a black announcer) was wonderfully done and an attempt to tell the story of the musical in one minute. But a lost moment, because it comes way to early, and is never seen again.

This show is not nearly as dreadful as "Shrek" was. (It' not even in the same class of failure as "Shrek.")  It's quite good. But it's either trying to be bigger than it is - and failing - or it is trying to be entertainment only - and failing. It needs to be reshaped and either more carefully constructed as a message musical that can transcend a trite world view of black=good and white=bad, or changed to be more entertainment. As it is, it's unfocused and unfinished. Not bad, not terrible. Just not ready.

Change

Six More Weeks of Winter

 

Haven't we done this before?

Gov't Spending (Comix)

No other words needed...

The End of the Banking Industry

TARP Is Destroying the Banks

But here's the really awful part: the Treasury's forced investments in Bank of America are held in the form of preferred shares paying an 8% dividend. Yet the bailout agreement forced on the bank "limits quarterly common stock dividends to a penny a share." Oh yes, and Bank of America "will also have to accept new executive compensation limits. And the bank will need to submit for government approval a plan to modify troubled mortgages.

A guaranteed way to destroy a business (qua business) is to take away its profit.

O Hope O Change

In the Beginning

In the beginning, there was the computer.

And God entered:

C:\Let there be light!

Enter user ID:

C:\God

Enter password:

C:\Omniscient

Invalid password

Enter password:

C:\Omnipotent

And God logged on at 12:01:00 AM, Sunday, March 1.

C:\ Let there be light.

Unrecognizable command

C:\Create light

Done

C:\Run heaven and earth

And God created Day and Night

And God saw that there were 0 errors.

And God logged off at 12:02:00 AM, Sunday, March 1.

And God logged on at 12:01:00 AM, Monday, March 2.

C:\Let there be firmament in the midst of water and light

Unrecognizable command. Try again.

C:\Create firmament

Done.

C:\Run firmament

And God divided the waters. And God saw that there were 0 errors.

And God logged off at 12:02:00 AM, Monday, March 2.

And God logged on at 12:01:00 AM, Tuesday, March 3.

C:\Let the waters under heaven be gathered together unto one place and let the dry land appear and...

Too many characters in specification string. Try again.

C:\Create dry_land

Done.

C:\Run firmament

And God saw there were 0 errors.

And God logged off at 12:02:00 AM, Tuesday, March 3.

And God logged on at 12:01:00 AM, Wednesday, March 4.

C:\Create lights in the firmament to divide the day from the night

Unspecified type. Try again.

C:\Create sun_moon_stars

C:\Run sun_moon_stars

And God separated the light from the darkness. The sun ruled over the day and the moon and stars ruled over the night.

And God saw there were 0 errors.

And God logged off at 12:02:00 AM, Wednesday, March 4.

And God logged on at 12:01AM, Thursday, March 5

C:\Create fish

Done

C:\Create fowl

Done

C:\Run fish, fowl

And God created the great sea monsters and every living creature that creepeth where the waters swarmed after its kind and every winged fowl after its kind.

And God saw there were 0 errors.

And God logged off at 12:02:00 AM, Thursday, March 5.

And God logged on at 12:01:00 AM, Friday, March 6.

C:\Create cattle

Done

C:\Create creepy_things

Done

C:\Now let us make man in our image

Unspecified type. Try again.

C:\Create man

Done

C:\Be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the air and over every living thing that creepeth upon the earth

Too many command operands. Try again.

C:\Run multiplication

Execution terminated. 6 errors.

C:\Run Breath

Done

C:\Run multiplication

Execution terminated. 5 errors.

C:\Move man to Garden of Eden

Filename: Garden of Eden does not exist.

Abort, Retry, Ignore?

C:\Create Garden_of_Eden

Too many parameters

C:\Create Garden Eden.

Done

C:\Move man to Garden of Eden.

Done

C:\Run multiplication

Execution terminated. 4 errors.

C:\Copy woman from man

Done

C:\Run multiplication

Execution terminated. 2 errors.

C:\Create desire

Done

C:\Run multiplication

And God saw man and woman being fruitful and multiplying in Garden Eden.

Warning: No time limit on this run. 1 errors.

C:\Create freewill

Done

C:\Run freewill

And God saw man and woman being fruitful and multiplying in Garden Eden.

Warning: No time limit on this run. 1 errors.

C:\Undo desire

Desire cannot be undone once freewill is created.

C:\Destroy freewill

Freewill is an inaccessible file and cannot be destroyed.

Enter replacement, cancel, or ask for help.

C:\Help

Desire cannot be undone once freewill is created.

Freewill is an inaccessible file and cannot be destroyed.

Enter replacement, cancel, or ask for help.

C:\Create tree_of_knowledge

C:\Create good, evil

Done

C:\Activate evil

And God saw he had created shame.

Warning system error in sector E95.

Man and woman no longer located in Garden.edn. 1 errors.

C:\Scan Garden.edn for man, woman

Search failed. Abort, Retry, Ignore?

C:\Delete shame

Shame cannot be deleted once evil has been activated.

C:\Destroy freewill

Freewill is an inaccessible file and cannot be destroyed.

Enter replacement,cancel, or ask for help.

C:\Stop

Unrecognizable command. Try again

C:\Ctrl_Break

C:\Ctrl_Break

ATTENTION ALL USERS *** ATTENTION ALL USERS:

COMPUTER GOING DOWN FOR REGULAR DAY OF MAINTENANCE AND REST IN FIVE MINUTES

PLEASE LOG OFF.

C:\Create new world

You have exceeded allocated file space. You must destroy old files before new ones can be created.

C:\ Destroy earth

Destroy earth: Please confirm.

C:\Destroy earth

Confirmed

COMPUTER DOWN *** COMPUTER DOWN.

SERVICE WILL RESUME SUNDAY, MARCH 8 AT 12:01 AM.

YOU MUST SIGN OFF NOW.

And God logged off at 11:59:59 PM, Friday, March 6.

On Saturday, March 7, God rested.

On March 8, God created Macintosh.

From http://www.macobserver.com/news/99/july/990713/onthe8thday.html

The Gypsy King Returns to the Village Theatre

January 30-Feb 1, 2009

Don't miss this - a restaging of the Village Original production of The Gypsy King.

I mentioned this earlier in 2008 - a hilarious mix-up between the gypsy and the king. Just about every line is a laugh line.

Village Theatre notes

Leo and Frederick, a father-son acting duo, are seriously down on their luck, and Frederick wishes only for a place to belong. But when he falls for a princess disguised as a peasant girl, and is then captured by the royal guard, Frederick very quickly gets a lot more than he bargained for. Meanwhile, the prince Alfonse, who bears a curious resemblance to Frederick, hears of an assassination plot against him. Alfonse's scheming right-hand-man, Sergei, suggests the prisoner Frederick take the prince's dangerous position — and with Frederick at the helm, chaos ensues for all. Make sure to catch this musical full of fast-paced action and over-the-top hilarity!

 

Return of The Gypsy King

Return of "The Gypsy King"

A Ballerina Dreams Goodbye

Painter - Brandon Peterson

Ballerina - Karina Nolan

Crow - Kyle Clark

Muse - Lexy Files

Location: Sallal Grange, North Bend WA

Jan 9-10, 2009

A Ballerina Dreams Goodbye is a surrealist play about the meaning of human existence. Do we perceive beauty only, or does beauty exist on its own?

This is John McDevitt's latest production (he wrote/produced/directed this). As is usual with a McDevitt production, someone dies.

Brandon does an excellent job as Painter in search of beauty, and questioning why he is searching. Kyle is wonderful as Crow, the mauling, cawling, mendacious eater of all things good. Ballerina questions Painter endlessly, never accepting answers and never finding solace. Muse drifts across the stage offering disconnected wisdom unaffected by reality.

The first act got a little long; it could use some reshaping. The imagery/symbolism of the apple is first-rate. The second act is memorable for the live painting done by the four actors.

Costumes were understated and serendipitously coordinated: Muse in white; Crow in black; Painter in black shirt & white pants; Ballerina in white shirt & black dress (not a tutu). Touches of color - red apple, purple hairpiece, green leggings.

The set is stark white - floor, ceiling, walls, set pieces. As the play progresses, color comes in through paint and blood.

A very interesting and provocative play. Don't miss it!

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

Fifth Avenue Theatre

Seattle WA

December 28 2008

Milly - Laura Griffiths

Adam - Edward Watts

Benjamin - Luke Longacre

Caleb - Demian Boergadine

Daniel - Karl Warden

Ephraim - Kyle Patrick Vaughn

Frank - Wes Hart

Gideon - Mo Brady

Dorcas - Amanda Paulson

Ruth - Brittany Jamieson

Liza - Sara Christine Parish

Martha - Maya RS Perkins

Sarah - Shanna Marie Palmer

Alice - Meaghan Foy

Also with Justin Ramsey, David Alewine, Christian Duhamel, Daniel Cruz, James Scheider, Ross Cornell, Robertson Witmer, Neil Badders Vickielee Wohlbach, Eric Chappelle, Ann Evans, Hannah Lagerway, Jeffrey Alewine

This is a show about dancin'. Johnny Mercer wrote the songs, which are largely forgettable and undistinguished. The plot is based on Stephen Vincent Benét's short story, itself based upon The Abduction of the Sabine Women.

Synopsis: Adam sees Milly in Oregon City and takes her home in the deep woods where he lives with his seven bachelor brothers, Benjamin through Gideon (yes, all seven have alphabetical names). Hilarity ensues when Milly discovers she's to be the cook and servant.

The brothers are taught by Milly to be decent rednecks and invade the town at the social, taking up seven single girls who already have beaus. Hilarity ensues as the 14 guys duke it out. The brothers find out that they're in love, so the go back to town to kidnap the girls (the "Sobbin' Wimmen") and bring them back with the preacher so they can get married.

Whoops. They forget the preacher and an avalanche closes the pass until spring. So Milly separates the girls and guys, and all through winter the boys and girls long for each other. Milly, meanwhile, is longing (kinda) for Adam, who's left in a huff because in his view it's fine to capture what you want and lie about your reasons. And Milly's pregnant...

In the spring, the pass opens and Adam returns. The boys are instructed to return the girls, and they reluctantly agree, because now they're civilized. But the girls don't want to go. And the townspeople come in to shoot the boys and get the girls back. HIllarity ensues until the girls are paired with the brothers in a big happy wedding finale.

The play itself - meh. It's not the most compelling story in the world, and although it has been updated (!) by Benét, it's still not that realistic. Women, as far as I know, don't in the main appreciate being kidnapped.

The music is also meh. The opening number "Bless Your Beautiful Hide" is probably the only one that's recognizable. None of the others are bad, but they're not interesting. They move the plot along, and serve their purpose for that.

What makes the show is the sheer energy of the dancing, which is what the show is all about. The big number, "The Challenge Dance," is where all the fun is. This is a tremendous showstopper - literally - as the audience stood up and cheered at the end.

I can't imagine this show being done without fabulous singers/dancers, and this show exceed that expectation. The brothers are simply fantastic. It's hard to say as much for the girls because their costumes got in the way of seeing their movements. It's possible they were faking it because all you could see was big mountains of clothes - except for the lingerie-dream sequence (the brothers are dreaming about their women, and the girls float like ghosts through the scene, wearing filmy lingerie and leading to urgent speculation by the men as they dream).

The townspeople serve as extra musicians during the show, with a banjo, guitar, harmonica, accordion, and other instruments. The scenery was interesting, with lots of movement left/right and up/down (the trees growing and receding were interesting; the avalanche was a clever scene change; the mountain cabin changed perspective as needed). The one false thing about the scenery was the town scene - the buildings were set in perspective so it looked like a street receding in the distance, but the actors cam on the stage from the rear at times, which made them look like giants compared to the buildings that came to their shoulders.

Costumes for the most part were serviceable. I mentioned the girls' costumes already, that they blocked their body movements. The brothers costumes were OK, nothing special (they are woodsmen, after all). They wear different colored shirts, so you can distinguish them. The girls' outfits were somewhat color-coordinated with the brothers they paired off with. The beau's outfits were 1880's suits, which all seemed to be too small in the dance numbers.

The music was fine - the pit at the Fifth is set up to give good sound - but the microphones were lousy. I don't know if I'm going deaf (maybe I am), but most of the lines in the songs were simply lost. Very mushy. I gave up and just let the song be "music" and not information about the plot. Of course, given that the brothers and girls are dancing and jumping and running all the time, perhaps they were just out of breath.

This was the closing night of the show, so if you want to see it, you'll have to wait for another theatre to sponsor it - this show was a local production by the Fifth & not a traveling show.

Plaid Tidings

ArtsWest

Seattle, WA

Dec 16, 2008

John Bartley	Smudge
Aaron Finley	Frankie
Ryan McCabe	Jinx
Daniel Stoltenberg	Sparky
John VanZanten	Uncle Chester (acoustic bass)
R.J. Tancioco	Musical director (piano)
Jeff Church	Director
Jeannette LeGault	Asst Director/Choreograpy

This is the "holiday edition" of Forever Plaid. FP itself is the story of Frankie, Sparky, Jinx, and Smudge, 4 mellow singers of the Perry Como style who, on their way to their big break into show business, are T-boned by a bus of Catholic schoolgirls on their way to the Beatles' concert in on Ed Sullivan in 1964.

PT is the continuation of this idea. After the Plaidmen get their plaid tuxedos and return to the Better Place, they are recalled to earth for one last (again) task: to make it a better place by finding the meaning of it all.

So, they put on their schmaltzy Christmas show, with a mix of Christmasy and non-Christmasy numbers. Some of it is bathos - "Why am I here? What is Life?" and some is funny - Sparky's monologue about the meaning of "Rudolf the Red-nosed Raindeer" is something every actor will want to use in auditions.

The actors do a very good job with their parts. There are some moments when it doesn't seem quite real (I know - we're talking about imaginary singers in a musical, but hey, go with me here). The staging is sparse, but given ArtsWest venue, it fits the show (and FP is itself sparse). The Plaidmen wear nice plaid tuxedos (provided from a shop in New Hampshire) in Act I, and handsome Perry Como red sweaters in Act II. Lighting was satisfactory, but sound was not. The actors alternated between using the microphones and singing without them, but it made the quality of the singing uneven. ArtsWest is a small venue, so it didn't make their voices disappear, but there is a difference between enhanced and non-enhanced voices.

The show itself is not as strong as the original FP. The throughline for the show seems forced and pasted onto a variety format. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't really strong enough to carry a show. I know musical theatre isn't Shakespeare, but it should actually be good for what it is.

There are some plusses. The characters in the show are pleasant, likeable guys, and the show is family-friendly. And in the end, the Plaidsmen earn their reward, whatever it is.

Beauty and the Beast

Issaquah Village Theatre

Through January 5, 2009

Beauty and the Beast is the old tale of two men, both in love, but they make different choices about the focus of their love.

Disney turned the fairy tale into into a rich wildly successful animated movie and then into a rich, wildly successful Broadway musical. The movie offered the luminous vocal talents of Angela Lansbury, Jerry Ohrbach, David Ogden Stiers, and others. The Broadway musical wasn't star-studded, but introduced even more songs into the show.

After a long, successful run on Broadway, the show became available for other theatres, and the Village Theatre brought it out as their "Christmas" musical. (They try to pick a family-friendly musical for Christmas -- in some years, it's very successful; in others, not so much - "The Secret Garden" really wasn't a happy show for the most part, and patrons left that show muttering "This is the Christmas show?")

The production at the Village Theatre is up to their usual standards. Not only are the sets clever and gorgeous, but the cast is top notch: Eric Polyani-Jensen as the Beast, Jennifer Pas as Belle, Nick deSantis as Lumiere, John Deveny as Belle's father, and Bobby Kotula as Mrs. Potts, along with the others in the cast (sorry if I don't list them here - I don't have the program in front of me so I'm recalling from memory). Gaston, for one, was very, very good. He was vain, obnoxious, and domineering - and he, of course, met a timely demise in the second act, making way for the Belle of the ball to finally be with her Beast.

The production numbers are great. There are no weak singers, actors, or dancers. Eric Jensen's solo about choosing & wanting is beautifully done. We were concerned that he might not fit the part, but he's showing obvious signs of exercise and diet, and he was great. (We first saw him as Bill Sykes in Oliver about 15 years ago, and he was heavy, gruff, and mean. Not now - his beast is outrageous in the beginning, but is transformed by his love of the simple & naive Belle.) Jennifer Paz has been in several shows at the village - Maria in West Side Story, Evita in Evita, for two, and she does a good job as Belle. I have now seen several different productions of Beauty and the Beast, and I'm beginning to suspect that Belle and Cogsworth just don't have rich parts - Belle really doesn't have any character development in this show, and Cogsworth has to play a buttoned-down character, while Lumiere gets to have his outrageous French accent and chase the girls. Mrs. Potts in this show was competent and gracious; however, this again is a part that Bobby Kotula did not need to stretch to do. She is simply a great comedic actor with a tremendous voice, and this part did not stretch - however, she is wonderfully competent.

However, this production was valuable in one area, because this show helped me see a side of the Beast I'd missed in previous productions. Eric makes it wonderfully poignant - to love someone is to risk abandonment and disappointment, but someone who loves always chooses to let the loved one make his/her own choices. Love cannot be compelled or even channeled. Love simply is.

The "Be Our Guest" number was perhaps the weakest link in the show. It's not for lack of trying or even for lack of achievement. Simply put, previous productions had much bigger casts (I suspect there were 25 or so in this production), and this number requires the big Busby Berkely effect. With this smaller cast, there wasn't as much going on. Not badly done, just not as spectacular as it could be due to resource constraints. (Belle's song in the village in the second act was weak but for other reasons - it's just a weak number that seems to be in the show to fill a few moments.)

Costumes were OK. Some were odd choices - I thought the teapots were weak (they looked like flannel pajamas but bloated). Belle wore the blue dress in Act I and wore the yellow dress in Act II, appropriately. The Beast's outfit was fine, and others were OK as well. As noted with the "Be Our Guest" number, the costumes in this were a bit weak, too. The massed fork-and-knife characters looked like big yellow lobsters. Gaston's costume was as expected - but if he's supposed to have hair ("m covered with hair"), he should have had some kind of rug on. Cogsworth's clock outfit had a penduum in it that seemed to move as if it was stuck, and the key on his back seemed to jiggle too much when he moved. Lumiere's outfit was fine - his candled hands were done well. I thought his makeup was odd - they used white makeup to make his face appear "waxy," but it made him look somewhat corpse-like. I think the other shows made him up using gold-toned makeup as if his face were part of the candlestand.

Music was nicely done. They had a few violinists in the orchestra, and they kept themselves from the screechy slightly-out-of-tune--ness I've heard in other productions. (How I hate it when there are multiple violins all playing slightly different notes.)

Staging was very, very clever. Flats zoomed in and out, up and down. Parts of the set spun around. It was all very colorful and fun.

BelleJennifer Paz

Gaston Troy L. Wageman

LeFou John David Scott

Maurice John X. Deveney

Cogsworth Ian Lindsay

Lumiere Nick DeSantis

Babette Haley N. Ostrander

Mrs. Potts Bobbi Kotula

Chip Anders Ledell

Beast Eric Polani Jensen

Wardrobe Ellen McLain

Mon. D'Arque Greg McCormick Allen

Silly Girls Krystle Armstrong, Ashley FitzSimmons, Tiffany Jewell

Enchantress Anneliese D. Childress

Wolves Gabriel Corey, Christian Rey Marbella, Adam Somers

Ensemble

Heather Rabon Apellanes, Eric Brotherson, Anneliese D. Childress, Gabriel Corey, Doug Fahl, Rianna Hidalgo, Rebekah Krupke, Christian Rey Marbella, Rebecca Orts, Casey Raiha, Adam Somers, Matthew Wade, William Williams

UPDATE 3/25/09: I'm a little slow on moderation of comments (I didn't know I had comment moderation on, frankly!) - one of the cast members of the show pointed out that I was wrong on the actual composition of the Broadway version of the show. So, -2 for me for (a) not verifying my speculation and (b) not updating this post in time.

I've also approved the comments - sorry about my snail-like pace.

The Even-Greater-than-the-Greatest Generation Bailout Compared

Not much to say here.

OAN Services - WATCH YOUR PHONE BILL

These guys are CROOKS!

They are in the business of finding information about you, and then charging your phone for a mystery service you never authorized.

They have already been fined $34 million by the FTC but they continue to charge consumers small amounts hoping they won't notice.

A fair WARNING to you:

1. Contact your phone company IMMEDIATELY to find out how to "freeze" your phone service - OAN likes to switch you to another long distance carrier without your consent (yes, it's legal!) AND then charge you for their "service" of switching you

2. Examine your phone bill CAREFULLY. You might find you've been paying an unknown fee for YEARS.

3. Contact your state attorney general and the FTC and file a complaint.

4. Talk about this on your blogs and web pages so OAN doesn't get away with this.

5. Contact your state and federal representatives and DEMAND action against this.

Note that OAN is part of a group of companies who do this.

Cinderella

The Seattle Musical Theatre

Magnuson Park Auditorium, Seattle

November 22, 2008

Cinderella is the musical based on the popular children's story. Originally written by Oscar & Hammerstein for the 1957 television special starring Julie Andrews, it was re-written for the color broadcast version in 1965 withLeslie Ann Warren as Cinderella, and re-written again for the 1997 version with Brandy as Cinderella.

This production in Seattle staged the version from (I think) 1965. The production notes were a little ambiguous to me (however, the program itself was gorgeous - heavy coated paper, full color front and back). We went to this production because one of our friends (Kyle) was in the show.

Seattle Musical Theater (AKA Seattle Civic Opera) is a company that produces about 5 shows a year and stages them in Magnuson Park Auditorium. They have a tight budget for costumes, lighting, and sets, and as they are a non-professional group their cast and crew are theatre lovers who give it their best.

The production we saw had some nice moments. It was a great pleasure to hear Kyle sing - he has been working hard with his voice lessons, and it definitely shows. (He plays the Steward & other ensemble characters in the show.) Cinderella was good; I thought the Queen carried her role and her vocal part very well.

I was not so pleased with the two sisters - a bit too exaggerated for me. What works on TV with the closeups doesn't carry well on the stage. And I am not sure, but I think the Prince was nervous the night we went, as his voice had problems with pitch. Nice sounding voice, but the unexpected variations at time made it a bit difficult to really get "lost" in the play.

I mentioned that they have a tight budget. I think the characters worked hard at their roles, and for an amateur show it was nice. What I think detracted the most from the show were the technical aspects - the lighting was off (people were speaking and not lit); the sound was off (people had lines and solos where their mikes were not turned on in time); the sets were odd (the idea of the moveable house/castle was interesting, but the house set was meh, while the castle set was too big for the people involved); and the costumes were an odd mix of rented and hand-made. The handmade costumes were frankly badly designed - lots and lots of shiny fabric in badly designed balloons or perhaps dresses. The women on the stage were not fat, overweight, or even heavy, but the dresses they wore for the "elegant" scenes were, unfortunately, large tents with no movement. I do not want to fault the costume and set designers, for they worked with what they had, but given that, I still think it was a poor set of choices.

It's hard to see live theatre and see people working very, very hard in their roles and then realize the play just isn't working. The house was about 3/4 full, but there were very few moments of appreciation - few laughs or titters at the comic scenes, little movement or murmuring at the dramatic scenes. I don't think the audience disliked it, but they never got lost in it, and the applause at the end was polite.

I think the show as a concept could be quite good. A little more development of the character of the king, for example - why does his son act the way he does? The stepmom & stepsisters are caricatures by design - but they need to be living, breathing people as well. No one can be that idiotic. Maybe the whole play is supposed to be comic, but a director might get more out of the actors if (s)he works to make the roles believable. (There were not many kids in the audience, so I don't think this is aimed at "kids," unlike the theatre we saw in Bellevue that staged "The Wizard of Oz.")

Not a terrible show. Not portentous or tired. Just not a great production.

2012 - Not Too Soon

The Drowsy Chaperone

Fifth Avenue Theatre

Seattle WA

Nov 9, 2008

The Drowsy Chaperone is a musical (and a show-within-a-show) written for people who love musicals already and want to see something they've seen before. The story is this: the narrator ("Man in Chair") lives alone in a dreary apartment in (I think) New York City. It's a cold grey November outside, he's depressed, and nothing will cheer him up in his real world, so he turns to the past - the near past, as it turns out - to listen to his favorite musical from the 20s, The Drowsy Chaperone. This musical is a bouffe, a romp, a farce; the show we watch is Man in Chair letting the 20s show run but interrupting it for commentary that reveals more and more of his personal life. For as the show progresses, the cast, staging, and costumes from the 20s show invade Man in Chair's apartment, transforming it for a little while into a gay bright slice from the last century.

The show we watch was conceived as a gift to Bob Martin for his wedding; that show "starred" Bob Martin and Janet VanDerGraff (the real Bob Martin's real fiancee's name), and after watching the performance, the "real" Bob Martin caused his own character (the observer or narrator) to be written into the show, and he played that part from the original stagings in Toronto through the Broadway run and then the first city of the national tour (in Toronto).

It's a wacky show, switching from past to present at inopportune times. The songs are homages to the 20s, and generally very well done.

But as fun and charming as the show is, it betrays a certain fin-de-siecle feel to the opening of the 21st Century. When shows are simply parodies of previous shows or genres, and those shows/genres themselves were empty by design, I have to ask: what's this all for? Sure, it's sheer entertainment, but it's derivative. Where's the originality of the show? I'm no musician or writer, but surely we can get something that's musical theatre that's written in today's idioms.

I didn't dislike the show - it was, as I said, fun. It wasn't self-important like Spring Awakening; it just was pleasant entertainment. But I want to see some new stuff when I see new stuff. If the 20s musicals were so great and fun, then revive them, update them if need be to make them fit today's expectations, but don't simply copy an 80-year-old idea

A Face in the Mirror

As I look back on my blog postings, I see a few themes expressed over and over:

• Entertainment (mostly plays/musicals)
• Humorous videos I've found
• Great Thoughts on Life
• Pictures I've taken

The interesting thing is that while I'm posting on stuff that I like, I don't often say much about what I'm really thinking. I know - that doesn't make sense. But frankly, posting on a blog about myself means that the entire planet could conceivably (a) find and read my blog and then (b) not like me. I don't mind so much that 6 billion people might find and read this stuff, but to think that just one person might not like me? The horrors! And so I keep my stuff pretty light on real personal details.

Oh sure, I get snarky on some stuff. When I see a play or movie that really stinks, i get very arch. A bad play or musical doesn't enrage me, but it makes me wonder how a professional could let such a thing happen. Given the world I work in, I see plenty of products that don't make the light of day, that are delayed until they are ready to launch, or even products that might be flawed at release but we're confident that we can get the greater problems fixed even as a flawed product adds value. A bad play or musical, however, is rarely fixable once it launches. My review of Saint Heaven is based upon that fact: the play is done, and what we're seeing is essentially what the play will be for the future. (Saint Heaven isn't a thoroughly terrible play; it's just weak, meandering, and unconvincing.) Other plays I've reviewed as being bad (Shrek and Killala Bay) are still in development, so while I might eviscerate them, it's because I want the play to be fixed; I don't want it to be closed down. Spring Awakening was flawed for another reason, and it's not fixable because it's done: it's a bad play because it is based upon a false belief about today's culture as contrasted with 1890's Germany.

So my reviews are about the play itself, but for the most part I don't really say anything reasonably personal about myself. I don't speak much about my family, and I speak almost nothing at all about my job. (Silence about my job is due largely to a directive from the corporation itself that we not speak about where we work as it might lead to people thinking that our personal viewpoints represent the opinions or values of our company. Apparently a lot of people are waiting for me to describe what my company thinks about taxes or personal responsibility or social issues. I must disappoint those readers, unfortunately.)

But the interesting thing is that even if I had freedom from my company to say more, I wouldn't say more. In fact, I say very little about anything at all. I am reluctant to reveal anything deeply personal, because ... well, just because.

Perhaps it's just a safety mechanism. As I wrote earlier, with 6 billion people as potential readers, I might get a few loose screws who'd do or say something hurtful. (Chances of what I say being interesting enough to gain the attention of anyone outside the small group of people who happen across this blog by accident are pretty small.) I don't think I'll ever come to the attention of anyone who "matters," though.

Perhaps it's a realization that what I say is fairly dull and predictable. I could possibly be wilder and more interesting by posting extravagant fancies, but that would make me even less real. My life is mundane--I get up, go to work, write for a while, go home, eat, watch TV or read a book, go to bed, and sleep. Not much to say about that beyond what I just said. (I do have moments of great excitement, such as the dilemma with my woodpile: do I get the chainsaw out and cut up the rounds, or do I let them "season" for another year or until they spontaneously split apart into conveniently sized lengths of firewood?)

Perhaps it's the realization that what i say about myself on a public blog becomes part of the internet culture, something that might be harmless and overlooked now, but could come back later in my employment or career, or even after I'm gone and some grad student uses this as part of his thesis paper on the 21st century blogosphere. (Who knows? I could become the Eric Hoffer of blogs.)

Perhaps, though, it is a reflection of my general hiding. I don't spend a lot of time thinking about myself, and so I don't have a lot of stuff to say about myself. And the things I do think about myself I keep to myself. You won't find much from what I say directly that describes who I am. If you check my profile you find certain facts about myself, but they are not anything that differentiates me from thousands or millions of other fathers in their 50s.

What made me think about this issue is the class I'm taking, "Healing the Wounded Child," a part of the "Life Recovery Skills" program. One part of the class is to look at myself to see what I'm hiding and why I hide it. I can say some of the things I hide [note: and then they are no longer hidden! What a contradiction!], and some of those things are relatively easy to see. I am hiding my feelings and thoughts about life in general. I say very little to anyone about what I'm really thinking. I hide my doubts about my religious beliefs and doubts. I hide my despair about the future and lack of certainty about my decisions.

The class (HWC from now on) isn't about regression therapy. It's not a time to do deep dwelling into the past. It's just a way to look at what happened in the past and to figure out (a) if it affects me and (b) if so, how it affects me.

The interesting thing is that participating in the class has brought stuff to the surface that I've kind of forgot about. (I can't say it's brought back to mind anything I've really forgotten, but it helps remind me of things that I don't much think about.) For example, I've always remembered my very early childhood, of being in the crib, only because I remember one day as I lay there, running my fingers along the edge of the blanket and feeling the difference between the smooth silky edge and the roughness of the blanket itself, rolling my finger back and forth, over and over. I have remembered' this even throughout the years, and I remember remembering it, if that makes sense.  I remember our house in Walteria, and our neighbor's house, and the bookcase they had full of children's books. Funny, I remember that I had neighbors near my own age, but I don't remember their names. I remember the sermon at Walteria Methodist Church on the Prodigal Son, and I remember sitting there, listening, fascinated by the story. i could not have been yet 5 when I heard that. I remember the 10th anniversary of the dropping of the atomic bombs on Japan, an anniversary that took place when I wasn't even a year old. (Why do I remember this? I don't know.) I remember other events, too, and I'm journaling them.

But even though the memory of these events is interesting, what's more interesting to me is that I haven't much thought about what they mean and what these events have affected in my life. (And by the way, there are probably lots more events that I don't remember that have also affected me; however, as I cannot remember them, speculating about what they might be is pointless. I'll just let the memories come.)

For example, here's an interesting memory: my family (well, actually my siblings) had a song about me. Yes, an original song, just for me. The song itself was doggerel, but it was about how I was stupid, oafish, lazy, and idiotic. This was a popular song during my childhood, and mostly I've laughed about it. But then, I started thinking about it -- hey, why did they sing this song about me, and what does it say about what they thought about me? And did that song lead to any resentment or sense of not belonging? (It might have also led to my sense of exceptionalism, because, after all, who else has their very own special song about their attributes? I mean, besides emperors and demigods.) Now rest assured that I gave as good as I got -- I'm no innocent. But still -- what was that all about?

So I've been journaling these memories as they come to mind. The memory of arriving to kindergarten too late to get in one day, and hiding outside, afraid to be discovered. The memories of getting lost at the pier, at Disneyland, and at Tucson, and getting found again, and getting in trouble for getting lost. (I don't remember the reunions as being pleasant; my memory is that I had caused great inconvenience -- which I had! -- rather than receiving the comfort from my family for being found again. Hey, maybe that's why the Prodigal Son story resonates!)

I don't know where the class will lead. It's not designed to solve every problem in my life or to finally get me to figure out why I'm so screwed up. (Yes, I'm screwed up, but it's not likely because of any one thing.) I'm not necessarily enjoying it, but I'm finding it interesting.

I'll write more as I learn and discover more.

Return of "The Gypsy King"

Gypsy King, Issaquah Village Theatre

The musical will return to Issaquah Village Theatre for another round. This time there will be a bit more staging. Unfortunately, it's at the First Stage & not the Main Stage - but it will still be good.

Smoke on the Mountain

Sky Performing Arts

Monroe Washington

October 26, 2008

Smoke on the Mountain is a retelling of a familiar story of faith, hope, love, and June bugs. The Sanders Family, after some years of retirement, have decided to return to the Gospel circuit, singing and testifying in churches throughout the South. Due to a fortunate circumstance (a blown radiator and a pickle factory), Mervin Oglethorp, pastor of Mt. Pleasant Baptist Church, meets up with Burl Sanders, scion of the family.

The Sanders return to the stage – that is, to the church stage – with all their familiar songs and stories. But there are hidden shoals in the waters where the unobservant will run aground. Uncle Stanley has returned to the family after some years of dissipation. Denise and Dennis, the twins, are perky but want to try their own lives at least a few feet away from the watchful eyes of Vera, their mom. June, her eldest daughter, can’t sing much but attempts to participate through her signing – that is, through her hand movements.

All proceeds well at first, even though they are a bit late – an hour late, actually – because their bus overturned while they parked alongside the creek to wonder at the escaped pickles floating downstream from the factory. Pastor Oglethorpe is nervous at the delay, of course, but after he stalls for time, quoting Scripture to explain various events, the Sanders show up for their show.

And what a show it is. They share their Gospel songs and testimonies. Even Dennis gets a chance to share his story, except that his testimony is lost somewhere back at the bus, and since his mom wrote it, he can’t remember much. So he proceeds to speak his own story in his own words with a very charming halting delivery.

Denise has a story, too, about how she and Dennis share college terms – he goes one year, and she goes the next, so they can save money. She wants to be a movie star, and is that close to being the next Scarlett O’Hara.

Closing out the first act, Denise and June perform an interpretive dance, much to the anger of the two widder wimmen in the audience, patricians and great donors of the church but dead set against dancing. Pastor Oglethorpe has to get the kids offstage somehow! It takes a bit o' pushing and convincing, but they leave, hurt and disappointed.

Vera and Pastor Oglethorpe duel over the interpretation of Scripture and dancing. Stanley tells how he came back to the family. Burl explains how Demon Rum will not be sold in his store, nossir! And June gives a “Children’s Devotional” about June bugs that astonishes the crowd.

In the end, the family is all about love, acceptance, and forgiveness. They present the best of the gentility and hidden frustrations of every family, wanting to be more than they are, but showing through in their honesty and openness.

The Sky Performing Arts theatre group is a small community in Monroe that puts on small productions. I’d never heard of them before, and we went to this production only because the actor playing Denise is someone we know. It’s always great to see people putting on a show, no matter how small. The staging was fine; the Sky Valley Education Center in Monroe is a large industrial building with a large hall; the set, representing a small church in the wildwoods, was well-conceived and as one audience member whispered, “looked just like the church I went to in the South.” Most of the actors played several instruments, and they had an assist from two extras playing the violin, guitar, and piano.

This was a nice production, suited to the cast and set. The show ran on Broadway for a while, and has been staged throughout the country in larger venues and with more resources, but the concept scales well down to smaller casts. It’s unfortunate that we could not get tickets for an earlier production, because we knew of a dozen people who’d have laughed ‘till they cried had they seen this production.

The play is touching because of the raw sincerity of the characters. Yes, they are yokels and tragically unsophisticated. Yes, they are flawed – a domineering mother, a lost and bewildered son, a naïve daughter yearning for attention and love, another untalented daughter sadly trying to fit in, a prodigal uncle returning but with hidden conditions, and a father who’d rather be right than realistic. But we love them anyway, because even in their flaws they have a thread of goodness that binds them together, a desire to see people happy and helped, a sense that life is more than just getting ahead.

Actor	Role
Janet Kockritz	Vera
Bob Nydegger	Burl
Neil Sandlin	Uncle Stanley
Emily Johnson	Denise
Matt Glazener	Dennis
Lisa Goshorn	June
Asa Sholdez	Pastor Oglethorpe
Beth Nelson	Piano Lady
Kris Forster	Violin Lady

Spring Awakening, or High School Musical 5: The Kids Go to Fire Island

Paramount Theatre
Seattle Washington
October 19, 2008

Spring Awakening is an old play set to new music. Melchior falls in love wind Wendla in fin de siècle Germany, where those who know their place know how to live their lives: their parents, their church, and their schools tell them to behave, listen, and obey.

Along the way, we discover that the school has no place for misfits as Moritz is expelled for his failure to pass his exams, glossed over with a cheery, insincere letter from his schoolmarm; Melchior is sent away to reform school due to his writing of a salacious essay proposing free thought; and Wendla suffers the fate of everyone too repressed to know what happens after a man lays with a woman. (Hint: the stork brings babies but men bring only shame.)

I think the thesis statement of Spring Awakening is intriguing for its time: a society that doesn't understand why it believes, teaches, and lives as it does will of course be shown to be hypocrites. Kirkegaard tells us much about dead orthodoxy, and it's been true throughout history that those who don't learn from the past will duplicate the mistakes of the past. 'Twas ever true; 'twill ever be true.

What is interesting about this musical play is not the discovery that you can't trust anyone over 30; it's the assumption that kids today do not know these things, that somehow kids in our highly sexualized culture don't know about sex. The audience cheered the sexual explorations of Melchior and Wendla because kids today have no chance to explore their bodies and have no information about the primacy of sex in humanity's development from animal to sentient beings in society. (While the play warns that there is "Adult Content," there are enough liberated parents in Seattle to fill the house with prepubescent teens. I'm not sure how well their 12- and 13-year-old minds can handle watching simulated sex scenes on stage, but apparently it must not be something that shocking. I'm sure that if there was smoking involved, too, that we'd see a little outrage. So these young teens are mature enough about sex to see a play that reveals our society doesn't know enough about sex. How does that work again?) There is the staging of what the Victorians called "self-abuse" occurring during a big Broadway number (har-har!), because what teenage girl wouldn't want to see this on stage? A laugh riot, I tell you.

And, may I say, what's with the constant sniggering about gay relationships? I've seen Spamalot and Avenue Q on tour and I've seen Rent (the Broadway version). In Spamalot, gay men are made fun of. Well, that's a broad farce, so it's understandable. Avenue Q is also a comedy about how everyone's a little bit imperfect, so the gay character in the closet coming out of the closet is laughed at. But why is it that no one laughs at the heterosexual couplings in these plays? They're treated seriously, as if there's nothing to really laugh at. (We laugh at what they do, but we don't laugh at what they are.) Yet when the gay characters come on stage, they are treated like stereotypical swishers. I know that at one time it was acceptable to portray black people as simple-minded fools such as Stepin Fetchit and Hattie McDaniel. Har har. But somewhere along the line the adults realized that it was not just demeaning to portray these people as caricatures; it was untrue. Yet here we are, in enlightened Seattle, feeling righteously angered when Melchior and Wendla are tragic lovers, but we laugh at the gay guy seducing a fellow student. Har har. It helps to have the gay teen be blond and swishy because, of course, all gay men are just like that. (Much time could have been avoided had he just worn a sign saying "I'm the gay guy with stereotypical gay mannerisms"; he could have then spent time exploring other aspects of his character.) Maybe I'm just naïve myself in that the gay people I know run the gamut of personal lifestyles and affectations, but it seems to me that the main portrayal of gay people in the theatre is this: here is someone you can laugh at and not feel ashamed about it. Rent is interesting in that it goes against that grain a bit -- except, of course, one of the characters is a flamboyant transvestite, because as we all know, this is how all gay people must live--either closeted or Carmen Miranda; there is no middle ground.

Spring Awakening has some gorgeous numbers with beautiful tight complex harmonies and many pop-sounding solos for the MTV crowd. Sater and Sheik are the authors, and the music reflects their pop background. I enjoyed the musicality, even though the plot and characters were entirely predictable.

The thesis of the play might work in Germany of 100 years ago, but it is odd that today we keep hearing that we are a repressed society. How can this be, when the media is heavily sexualized? More interesting to me is the understated or even unstated thesis of the play that orthodoxy itself, whether conservative or liberal, is dead if it is performed and believed simply on the direction of those who are the leaders. I don't think many in the audience at the Paramount think that their "liberal" orthodoxies were not thought out or carefully considered. Most orthodoxies are just assumed because the crowd tells them it must be so. It's the wisdom of the crowd, you see, and belief must conform to what others believe. There is something in the orthodoxies that assumes that the holders are persecuted and must be allowed to express themselves. An objective observer might point out that while the orthodoxies are certainly tightly and uncritically held, they are in no way repressed. A walk down the main streets of any large city shows orthodoxy in orthopraxy, that is, the belief that humanity is "good" & needs nothing but freedom from control. Nothing is wrong except what causes pain in someone else, except when the pain is for the greater good, determined by some consensus gathered through some method removed from understanding or control. So painful speech is mocked and derided (witness poor "Joe the Plumber" who's experiencing the compassion of liberal orthodoxates examining his life for the temerity of inconvenient questioning of an anointed candidate), but painful actions are not (a couple that killed their family in Carnation may finally see true jail time after their lengthy trial and appeals are exhausted, but no one believes that justice will be swift and sure; we're all used to lawyers using technicalities to gain the release of their clients and the their actions to minimize murder down to jaywalking).

Spring Awakening explores the idea that kids are badly served by adults making them behave without examining why the behavior is desired; but it avoids the harder question of how are beliefs arrived at, and how are these beliefs tested against reality. It offers a lazy review of repressive orthodoxy without any insight that orthodoxies are arrived at through discussion and debate. At one time, the orthodoxies we laugh at were thoughtfully argued and proposed by men and women who considered life important enough to think about. Now in a morally exhausted age orthodoxy is only quaint and old-fashioned. Enough to eat drink and be merry because in the end we are all dead. If that's all there is to the story, then this musical is as harmless as cotton candy: sweet, sticky, and made from hot air.

I Am Joe

H/T Iowahawk

Some guy playing football with his kids now has more media investigating him than were investigating the man running for office. What kind of world is this we live in when asking a question of a political candidate results in your private life splashed all over the media & brings the hatred of the political opponents down on your head? I now know more about Joe's tax lien problems than I do about Obama's tax problems. (Yes, he has them, but you wouldn't know it from the media's inattention.)

I really hate posting about politics, but this is sickening.

Update (H/T Sierra Faith)

Hillary is 44:

Contrary to the belief of Obama worshippers, the real Christian Messiah is not a fast-talking Chicago politician. The real Christian Messiah is an unlicensed carpenter.

 

Seattle Juxtapositions

I took a walk down Fourth Avenue today to look at the buildings.

Seattle is a new city, less than 150 year old. Many of the large building are less than 40 years old, built during the boom times of the 60s, 80s, and 00s. If you look around, these buildings are surrounded by smaller, older buildings reflected in the glittering surfaces of the newer buildings.

Here are some examples of Seattle architecture.

An interesting highlight on the older buildings is the detail. In some cases, there are ornate, large emblems that give the building character. Other buildings have some small details where an architect or a builder thought to add decorates touches.

The newer buildings do away with all the fussiness. They are sleek, linear upthrusts, with channels of glass. On sunny days, such as today, the glass reflects the clear blue skies of the northwest. Typically, however, the skies are gray and drizzly, making the mirrored surfaces dull and featureless. The older buildings have more detail and do not disappear into the mists.

   

   

Some of the older buildings not only have interesting details, they have quirky details. The Arctic Building, for example, has walruses embossed above the windows. (Pix are from Wikimedia until I get my own.)

The Four-year Itch

We are at the stage of our presidential elections where we have gone from finding a candidate who supports our position in to having a candidate whom we ourselves support. It's national Pick Your Daddy Month. Candidates include the crusty old guy and glib young guy. One man represents tradition, one man represents himself as change.

I said earlier I did not like to post on politics, and I won't do so here. All I will say is this: what has the candidate done--actually accomplished--that leads you to believe his promises? Neither candidate will do all they say they will do--they have to consider the legislative branch, for one--and so we need to evaluate them based upon their track record and basic beliefs--that is, what drives them.

If you really think your candidate will somehow so vanquish the Other Side as to render them impotent, you are likely wrong. Clinton took the presidency in 92 and 96 against well-meaning men, but his "win" of the presidency did not mean he accomplished his signature promises--he did not bring about universal health care, he signed the tax policies of the Republicans, and he famously declared that the era of big government was over. Bush took two back-to-back elections as well, but did not govern from the right; he pursued policies that were popular with the center, not the right. The legislative branch is where laws are really made, and the presidency is merely the bully pulpit.

What will make more of a change is whether one party can not only control both houses of Congress but also have a filibuster-proof majority in the Senate and a veto-proof majority in both houses. At that point, one party would dominate. It takes only a third plus one in the Senate to block most actions. (I'm not sure what the current state is of the rules of the Senate; IIRC, the filibuster has been weakened since its most powerful days of the 50s and 60s.

Perhaps the Democrats will win a supermajority in the Senate. If so, they might bring many of their fondest wishes into being.  Perhaps.

One thing history continually shows is that when a party or person "wins" by a significant amount, they tend to think they are invincible. Witness Roosevelt's court-packing plan after the 1936 elections. Roosevelt got used to getting his way in Congress over the relief bills, sending down his legislative agenda and getting it passed time after time with virtually no debate or review. But when he attempted to pack the court by adding more members to it that he could more easily control, Congress rebelled. After that point, his relationship with Congress was altered, and he seldom was able to achieve his legislative goals. Johnson in 64, Nixon in 72, Reagan in '84 - they were stopped by their own political miscalculations.

Well, that's what I think, anyway.

A Fall into Desuetude

Seattle is wet and dreary from October to June. The last days of summer disappear nearly overnight, one sunny, warm, and dry day turning into a slow drizzle and fog. The temperatures drop from the 70s to the 50s. The summer insects have disappeared, except for a few stray houseflies. The vine maples are showing crimson, red, russet, vermilion; the big leaf maples are tipped with gold and yellow, and the alders are blanching into champagne. There are more and more windblown leaves each morning on the sidewalks, and the almost-forgotten quiet drip-drip-drip of the gutters is renewed as fall settles in for its stay.

The busses are as crowded as ever, but now the hot steaminess comes from passengers drying off. The bus windows are fogged over, so a ride home takes place with no hint as to location or speed. Only the bell announcing a stop helps keep the riders aware of their surroundings.

I ride the bus between Seattle and my home in North Bend, a 90 minute trip each way. Some days I am standing for half of it, getting a seat only when we get to Issaquah and half the passengers disembark.The bus is crowded and silent, as most people are either dozing or engrossed in books or their music. The thrum of the bus engine is the only thing we hear as we pass Sunset, High Point, Preston.

HIghway 18 is the high spot between Issaquah and North Bend. If it's snowing anywhere in the area, it's usually snowing here. Not today, of course -- true winter is about 40 days away. For now, the exit is simply where we turn off the interstate and drive into the Ridge, the planned development planted like a castle over the valley.The lights from the Ridge are the glittering crown now when we look to the west. 10 years ago Highway 18 simply went south; 5 years ago it connected into the Ridge for the few new residents; now the highway is the connector for nearly 10 thousand residents. The homes are new, boxy, large, and mostly beige. A few have hints of gray or brown, sage or slate. On gray foggy days the houses disappear into the mists.

Well-dressed passengers get off each stop, with their laptops and iphones. When we leave the ridge, headed down into the Valley proper, the remaining passengers adjust their caps, and pull up their backpacks into the empty seats. It's only a few more miles to downtown North Bend, where the bus makes the last stop at the espresso shop. We leave the bus in the dark, head to our parked cars, and drive off to our homes.

North Bend celebrates summer with the "Festival at Mt Si," with a parade, with a carnival, and with fireworks. There is no celebration for the fall; no banners line the streets, no lights are strung on tree, no bands play in the park. It's the season between summer and winter, between a festival of delight and a festival of lights. The signs of fall are the school buses running down the streets and the football players running down the fields. On Fridays the glow from the stadium lights nearly rivals the glow from the Ridge. The stadium is new, elevated from the floods, with artificial turf. The high school is too small now, it seems, for all the people on the Ridge, and there's a push to build a new high school. The Ridge is changing the Valley directly with its increased population, and indirectly with its need for services and infrastructure. Most of the city offices in the Valley have gone up to the Ridge. The library is gone, the fire station is gone, the police station is gone, city hall is gone--all have moved to shiny new offices close the dense residencies of the Ridge. Left in the Valley are the clinics and small markets. The Ridge has the new commercial development, with brand new buildings for shops for the dentists, the optometrist, the dry cleaners and pet sitters, the bars with the widescreen TVs. The old bars in the Valley were built for the loggers; the new bars are designed for the information commuters.

Between the Ridge and North Bend the bus takes the road up Meadowbrook and turns east at the new casino. The newly recognized tribe took its land grant to build an economic engine to help the tribal members improve their lot. Soon the casino will open, the closest casino to Seattle, and the Valley will change some more. The casino is a set of huge buildings surrounded by a huge parking lot. It will bring jobs to the valley, as well as traffic, crime, and the irresistible pressure for more growth. There are "For Sale" signs on the lawns of the houses around the casino. Those people know what's coming, and they want to leave.

We pass the roundabout built to handle the expected increase in traffic at the casino. Now there is no entry into North Bend that does not include a trip around a roundabout--there's one at the freeway exit; there's one at the east entry, and now there's one at the west entry. Pity the resident in North Bend who wants to put a mobile home on his property. The roundabouts are too narrow and small for a mobile home trailer to go through. North Bend is doing what it can to eliminate traffic from its downtown, eliminating off-street parking downtown, putting in wide corners to slow down traffice, and putting in new lights to control and halt traffic. Downtown North Bend hasn't changed in 40 years, and there's little hope of change in the commercial district. Tourists could walk to downtown from the freeway mall, but it's about a mile, and there's little to see or do other than visit the diner where they filmed David Lynch's TV show.

The diner burned in a mysterious and controversial fire about 10 years ago, and much of the memorabilia from the TV show was destroyed. Some say the fire was an accident in the night, some suspect that the fire helped to fix some problems. The diner is restored, but the paintings on the outside are gone, due to incomprehensible vandalism--while the diner was closed for repairs, a mentally ill person bought paint from the hardware store store and took it upon himself to pain the outside of the building. No one who saw him thought to ask him what he was doing--we all thought the owner had simply wanted to paint over the past. The owner was surprised at the result, of course, but it was too late.

Saint Heaven

Issaquah Village Theatre

Through October 26, 2008

Book: Martin Casella
Music & Lyrics: Keith Gordon

Overall: A muddle with no clear direction.

This is a full production of last year's entry in the Festival New Musicals. The storyline is this: It's the fall of 1957, and Thom, son of the only white doctor in Saint Heaven, KY, who treated blacks well, returns in time for his father's funeral at the black Baptist church where Eshie, an attractive young black woman, is leading the choir and breaks out in prophesying and speaking in tongues; she falls to the floor, trembling, and passes out. The black preacher Joe thinks Eshie's gift is a gift to the church and to him. Thom's dad's black housekeeper, Millie, gets the house but wants to leave town. Meanwhile, Thom's former fiancee Maggie and his former best friend Garrison ("Greasy") have mixed feelings about his return, and speak some lines to that effect.

The music attempts to be authentic Gospel, and nearly succeeds in the first number, but subsequent numbers are not as successful. There's no hint of the 50s music, whether it's rock and roll or rockabilly. There's no hint that this town is on the border between the South and the North except that Thom and Eshie find a relationship, and Millie alludes to her relationship to with a white man. Thom and Eshie "fall in love" in the first act (in the first 5 minutes or so), but they do so because the script says "you fall in love here." Maggie and Greasy dink around Thom, while Joe fights with Thom to claim Esshie. Millie, in the meantime (an understudy, Faith Russell, doing a fantastic job), sings about okra.

I was sadly disappointed in this show. Not with the production values per se. Lighting was good, sets were good. But the show doesn't have any emotional connection. I never ever believed that Thom loved Eshie, and Eshie had no reason to love Thom. The music was just odd. Not Gospel, not 50s, not opera or Andrew Lloyd Webber or anything, yet it wasn't unique where I'd say "this is so interesting I like it." It was meh. Joe the pastor doesn't have a reason to preach other than to make money; Eshie is beautiful and sings well, but I never understood where she came from--she was just there.

The denouement in the 2nd act--the crisis that leads Thom to discovering what his values are--is just an event. Since the crisis involves someone we never met, we don't feel the crisis. The people involved say they're sad. But they could say anything.

And unfortunately the staging wasn't the best. There were times when people just stood on stage so that they'd be in the right position for the spotlight.

Folks, if this is Kentucky, natives are going to speak in a Kaintucky accent. Not necessarily hicksville, but they are going to sound different. And the black people are going to speak differently as well. I'm not saying that people have to have thick Southern accents, but if these are people in a poor rural town, what are the chances they'd sound like they were all middle-class residents of Bellevue?

1957 was a tremendously active period in the civil rights struggle. It's when the first Civil Rights bill since the Reconstruction era passed. Lyndon Johnson was at the height of his senatorial power. The south was deeply concerned with this struggle, and while Kentucky senators Morton and Cooper (not mentioned in the play) weren't in the thick of things, there was a lot of horse-trading going on that summer. Surely there would be some mention of this great senatorial debate? Surely the people in Louisville and Saint Heaven would be a little more aware of these events? Instead, the people of Saint Heaven are untroubled by white-black relationships. There are two interracial couples, and no one in either community, white or black, appears to be troubled by this. Is that realistic for that time?

Ursula LeGuin's The Lathe of Heaven talks about how the elimination of "color" leads to the elimination of certain people, because some characters can only exist if there is a difference between the blacks and whites. In this case, Saint Heaven exists in a time and place where a man or woman's skin color is less important than any other detail of their lives, fortunes, or circumstances. It's not the unrealistic world of Pleasantville. It's the unreal world of Disneyland, where anything can happen only because it's all carefully designed to happen according to the views of the creator. Mice can talk, bears can sing, and in Saint Heaven, blacks and whites can have interracial relationships with no one of the Alice's stature in Adventures in Wonderland to be puzzled by this very abnormal set of circumstances.

Thom Rivers - Allen Synder
Eshie Willinton - Tanesha Ross
Pastor Joe Bertram - Kingsley Leggs
Millie Walden - Cynthia Jones (u/s Faith Russell)
Maggie Hanford - Billie Wildrick
Garrison Martin - Mark Carr

One Day Is Not Much Like the Other

Changes in Life
by patrocinio1972 (Daily Motion)

I found this to be pretty funny. H/T Sippiccan Cottage - Blog for Boys

I'm Voting Democrat!

...because--well, you wouldn't understand...

You Will Suffer Humiliation When the Sports Team from My Area Defeats the Sports Team from Your Area

As you can see from the calendar, the game is coming up this weekend. I'm sure you are as excited for it as I am, as our cities are rivals and have been for quite some time. Your confidence in your team is high, but rest assured, you will suffer humiliation when the sports team from my area defeats the sports team from your area.

On numerous occasions, you have expressed the conviction that your area's sports team will be victorious. I must admit that every time I hear you make this proclamation, I react with both laughter and disbelief. "Ha!" I say to myself with laughter. "What?!" I say to myself in disbelief. How could you believe that your sports team could beat my sports team? It is clear that yours is inferior in every way.

When the sporting contest begins, the players on your team will be treated as though they are inconsequential. It will be remarkably easy for my team to accumulate more points than yours. There are many reasons for this, starting with the inferior physical attributes of the players representing your area. Strength, speed, and agility are just three of the qualities that the players on the team from your area lack. The players representing my area, on the other hand, have these traits in abundance.

Underscoring your team's inferiority is its choice of colors. It is ludicrous to believe that your team's colors inspire either respect or fear. Instead, they appear to have been chosen by someone who is colorblind or, perhaps, bereft of sight altogether. The colors for my team, on the other hand, are aesthetically pleasing when placed in proximity to one another. They are a superior color combination in every way.

While we are on the subject of aesthetics, let us compare the respective facilities in which our teams play. While my team's edifice is blessed with architectural splendor and the most modern of amenities, yours is a thoroughly unpleasant place in which to watch a sporting contest. I know of what I speak, for I once attended a game between our respective teams in your facility. Let's just say the experience left me wishing that my car was inoperable that day due to mechanical problems, rendering it impossible for me to get to your area to attend the game.

If you need another reason why the sporting franchise representing my area is superior, look no further than the supporters for the two sides. Not only are the supporters of the team from my region more spirited, but they are also more intelligent and of finer breeding than you and the rest of your ilk. In addition, the female supporters of the team from my area possess more attractive countenances and figures than yours. Some of the women from my side that I have observed could make a living by posing for pictures for major men's magazines. The women who cheer for your team, I'm afraid, are far too unattractive to do so.

One of the more pathetic aspects of the team from your area is the fact that only people in your immediate area possess an affinity for it. By means of contrast, the team from my area inspires loyalty and affection in individuals who live in many other geographic locations.

To illustrate this point, let me tell a brief story: Recently, I was on vacation in an area of the country far away from my own, and I saw many individuals wearing items of clothing that bore the insignia of my team. I approached one such individual and asked him if he originated from my area. He said no, explaining that he simply liked the team from my area and had for many years. Interestingly enough, during this trip, I saw no clothing or other paraphernalia bearing the insignia of your team.

Do you still doubt that the team from your area is inferior to the one from mine? Just look at our teams' respective histories. In the past, we have defeated you on any number of occasions. Granted, there were times when your team beat my team, but those were lucky flukes.

The day of the game will soon be at hand. And no matter how hard you pray to a higher power or how many foam accoutrements you wear in support of the team from your area, your team will be defeated. We will win and you will lose. This is your fate.

Prepare for humiliation. It shall be upon you at the designated hour.

 

From The Onion

You Will Suffer Humiliation When the Sports Team from My Area Defeats the Sports Team from Your Area

As you can see from the calendar, the game is coming up this weekend. I'm sure you are as excited for it as I am, as our cities are rivals and have been for quite some time. Your confidence in your team is high, but rest assured, you will suffer humiliation when the sports team from my area defeats the sports team from your area.

On numerous occasions, you have expressed the conviction that your area's sports team will be victorious. I must admit that every time I hear you make this proclamation, I react with both laughter and disbelief. "Ha!" I say to myself with laughter. "What?!" I say to myself in disbelief. How could you believe that your sports team could beat my sports team? It is clear that yours is inferior in every way.

When the sporting contest begins, the players on your team will be treated as though they are inconsequential. It will be remarkably easy for my team to accumulate more points than yours. There are many reasons for this, starting with the inferior physical attributes of the players representing your area. Strength, speed, and agility are just three of the qualities that the players on the team from your area lack. The players representing my area, on the other hand, have these traits in abundance.

Underscoring your team's inferiority is its choice of colors. It is ludicrous to believe that your team's colors inspire either respect or fear. Instead, they appear to have been chosen by someone who is colorblind or, perhaps, bereft of sight altogether. The colors for my team, on the other hand, are aesthetically pleasing when placed in proximity to one another. They are a superior color combination in every way.

While we are on the subject of aesthetics, let us compare the respective facilities in which our teams play. While my team's edifice is blessed with architectural splendor and the most modern of amenities, yours is a thoroughly unpleasant place in which to watch a sporting contest. I know of what I speak, for I once attended a game between our respective teams in your facility. Let's just say the experience left me wishing that my car was inoperable that day due to mechanical problems, rendering it impossible for me to get to your area to attend the game.

If you need another reason why the sporting franchise representing my area is superior, look no further than the supporters for the two sides. Not only are the supporters of the team from my region more spirited, but they are also more intelligent and of finer breeding than you and the rest of your ilk. In addition, the female supporters of the team from my area possess more attractive countenances and figures than yours. Some of the women from my side that I have observed could make a living by posing for pictures for major men's magazines. The women who cheer for your team, I'm afraid, are far too unattractive to do so.

One of the more pathetic aspects of the team from your area is the fact that only people in your immediate area possess an affinity for it. By means of contrast, the team from my area inspires loyalty and affection in individuals who live in many other geographic locations.

To illustrate this point, let me tell a brief story: Recently, I was on vacation in an area of the country far away from my own, and I saw many individuals wearing items of clothing that bore the insignia of my team. I approached one such individual and asked him if he originated from my area. He said no, explaining that he simply liked the team from my area and had for many years. Interestingly enough, during this trip, I saw no clothing or other paraphernalia bearing the insignia of your team.

Do you still doubt that the team from your area is inferior to the one from mine? Just look at our teams' respective histories. In the past, we have defeated you on any number of occasions. Granted, there were times when your team beat my team, but those were lucky flukes.

The day of the game will soon be at hand. And no matter how hard you pray to a higher power or how many foam accoutrements you wear in support of the team from your area, your team will be defeated. We will win and you will lose. This is your fate.

Prepare for humiliation. It shall be upon you at the designated hour.

 

From The Onion

A Story of Opposites

Here’s a prime example of “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus”; offered by an English professor from the University of Colorado for an actual class assignment:

The professor told his class one day: “Today we will experiment with a new form called the ‘tandem story’. The process is simple: each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right.

“As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me.”

“The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.”

“Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.”

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students: Rebecca and Gary.

THE STORY

(first paragraph by Rebecca)

REBECCA At first, Laurie couldn’t decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(second paragraph by Gary)

GARY Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one night over a year ago. “A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,” he said into his transgalactic communicator. “Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far...” But before he could sign off, a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship’s cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

REBECCA He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. “Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,” Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become a woman?” she pondered wistfully.

GARY Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

REBECCA This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

GARY Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.

REBECCA [deleted]

GARY [deleted]

 

(Yes, I know that this story is disputed.)

Awesome Self-referential Musicals

While browsing my e-mail, I found a reference to "[Title of Show]," an original Broadway musical that is closing after 115 performances.

It caught my eye because I thought it was a typo - "ha - the copy editor didn't replace the phrase '[title of show]' before the article went to press."

Turns out that that IS the name of the show.

So I looked it up, and listened to a few songs & saw a few scenes. It's hilarious.

Check the widget (to the right) for a bit. And check out this video on YouTube.

Giving Away Free Stuff

I'm trying to give away free stuff. I've posted on Craigslist.I've posted that it's in the town where I live, which is not downtown Seattle.

So far, I've had three people say "I'll take it!" I get the stuff ready for them to pick up. I give them directions using Google maps. They think it's great.

Then they tell me, "oh, we didn't realize it was in <city>! That's too far to drive!"

Fine. It might be too far to drive. Did they think of this when they asked for it?

I don't know. I think people see "free!" and think, "Hey, it's free. Why not go get it?"

Argh.

My All-time Favorite WKRP

This was a show that had a wonderful sense of quirkiness, but this one episode was transcendent in its humor.

It's the famous Turkeys Away episode, where Arthur Carlson plans a great new promotion for his radio station.

And now that IMDB offers these episodes for free, you can view it right here:

Turkeys Away (IMDB.com)

Let me know if you think it's as funny as I do.

Rorschach Tests

The old story is this:

A psychiatrist is counseling Joe, and as part of the procedure, the doctor shows Joe a series of Rorschach inkblot diagrams.

Dr: "Joe, what does this picture remind you of?"

Joe: "Sex"

Dr.: "What about this one?"

Joe: "Same thing. Sex"

Dr.: "And this one?"

Joe: "Sex."

Dr.: "And this? This? This?"

Joe: "Sex, sex, sex."

Dr.: "Joe, it seems that you are obsessed with sex."

Joe: "I can't help it; you keep showing me the dirty pictures."

I find it fascinating how much arguments follow predictable lines that boil down to seeing what we want to see, and the more evidence we are shown, the more clearly we see that our viewpoint is supported 100%. Take, for example the idea that the US Government was behind the attacks on 9/11. The more evidence that's given to show how absurd this is (and yes, it's completely absurd), the more tightly the believers hold on to their "truth" that the towers collapsed because supremely stupid and yet brilliant people in government carried out a secret attack on American citizens

Live-blogging Chris Tomlin in Seattle

(Note: I'll clean up some of these references and misspellings after I'm all done with this.)

Chris Tomlin is here in Seattle at our corporate offices. It's not common for artists in his genre to show up; he's here as part of his 17 (70? can't be!) city tour. (Maybe it is 70! He started his tour in Ukraine, and the beginning didn't look good. 30 minutes before the concert, there were only 200 people in the audience, but then, by the time the concert started, there were 5000 college students.

Next was Stockholm, then off to Sao Paolo Brazil ("Apparently we don't have a map!" and "Everything they do is so crazy!"), and  to Uganda (25000 students), to Paris, to London, Malaysia, Indonesia, Joburg/Capetown, now 'round the country. Headed out to Mexico City - 18000 tickets sold already, with an audience drawn from the  largest university in the world (300000 students). Next is Vancouver BC, to Hong Kong, Seoul, and then Tokyo... yikes!

I got one of his newest CDs, "Hello Love." There were enough for just about everyone to get one.

His life's motto is "Life is about love." He's a long-time musician; really enjoys what he does. "Greatest need in the world is not another song." Nice.

Daniel Carson & he wrote this first song on the album.  "Jesus Messiah"  The band here today is his keyboardist Matt, Daniel, and Chris on guitar.

Interesting to see the number of people here from the offices - about 70 people, and I recognized only about 4 of them from other contexts. Our company likes to keep things 'quiet' so there isn't a lot of interaction among people in this audience on a day-to-day basis. It might be useful.

His next song is from Belfast, from a band (Bluetree) that was his 'warm up' band. They were just playing, and Chris was off-stage. Daniel ran into the dressing room like Kramer "Hey, you gotta listen to this!" Chris went out to catch just the tail end of the song, and then got the demo. He asked more about how the song came about. That band was in Padia, Thailand, a city in the middle of the Thai sex industry. Just there, playing, and a brothel owner heard they were in town, thought "hey, with live music we'll get more customers" - no idea what kind of band they were - "absolutely we'll come to play" - started playing in English, brothel owner didn't know what was going on, just kept playing. And in the middle, this song came out as a prayer.

This leads into "God of the City" - appropriate for today, the 7th anniversary of 9/11. "Greater things are yet to come, greater things are still to be done in the city."

"Visit www.onemillioncan.com when [this company] isn't bearing down on you." My comment sotto voce "That would be never." ;) The site's a place to go to help people around the world - clean water for African villages, freedom and a future for sex slaves in India, sustainable villages for Ugandan refugees, and so on. Check the site out.

Next song "I thought I had the next Coca-Cola song with this one..." Hilarious commentary about how he thought "this was it." Then as they were cutting the songs so they could get to the final 12, they discarded this one. But the producer said, "Hey, this 'Love' song - let's bring it back. Make it a 'world' song, with world rhythms, and let's get an African children's choir." "Uh, ok, but we're in Nashville." So they worked on it for a bit, and the next week they hear the Watoto Children's Choir, all AIDS orphans from Uganda. Chris had worked with them before in Sydney AU. It's Wednesday night before they start recording, and he has nothing - doesn't know their language or their styles. So they threw stuff together, and the kids showed up. And they start warming up by singing a Chris Tomlin song "How Great Is Our God." -- "I lost weight, I was crying so hard - can't imagine a song I wrote 7 years ago made it to Uganda to an AIDS orphanage."

Several people from the audience spoke up: "This song ("How Great Is Our God") was a song we heard at a children's orphanage in Rwanda. It's everywhere."

He sang it in Portuguese, then Ukrainian, then English.

Then presented a gold record plaque for us to display in the corporate offices.

Then he had to go. A brief, brief appearance.

More Favorite Headlines

Success! World Hasn't Ended!"

This from The Sun, Brit newspaper.

Like, if the world had ended, would we still need a newspaper?

A Long, Long Time Ago...

... flaming balls of gas swirled and condensed into rocky spheres orbiting other flaming balls of gas. After untold number of years, animals with purported self-awareness said "I AM," and began searching for meaning, truth, beauty, love, and justice. Each animal with self-awareness struggled to impose its viewpoint of truth, beauty, love, justice, and meaning upon all other animals, but in the end, they all died having accomplished nothing, for in death each of them ceased to exist and thus could not benefit from their accomplishments, whether their accomplishments were admired or detested by other animals.

Some of these animals claimed that attributes such as truth, beauty, love, and justice were eternal and others said these attributes were eternally generated by a source outside the physical universe. In the end, though, every single animal always died, having accomplished nothing lasting -- and indeed, since nothing eternal actually exists, everything meant nothing.

Is that about it? Because it seems like we're all very busy looking for happiness but failing to recognize that we will lose every single thing we think valuable in death, and every single other person/personality we find valuable simply ceases to exist at death. Memorials to them do nothing except to keep memorial-makers busy.

I don't understand the anger and emotion of those who claim that certain actions are "right" or "just" or "for the children," when none of these things that are hoped for can have any benefit of meaning for anyone advancing them. It seems that these animals who claim self-awareness are simply doing what feels good to them, and fighting for a cause feels like the right thing to do -- as if they all were doing something either because something in themselves made them want/think/try to define their meaning, or something outside themselves was driving them to find/want meaning.

If it's within them, then it has precisely no meaning, because it's as valid as the color of their eyes or the length of their fingers. It's no different from anything they they do/want/achieve, because it is not connected to them and they will lose all benefit when they die.

If it's outside them (that is, coming from an eternally generated extra-physical source), then most of them behave and believe very contradictory things. Or, if truth, beauty, love, and justice are eternal and worth something, none of these animals are doing the same things. Or, if truth is truth, they are not truthful. As an analogy, if the color blue is the standard, none of them are truly blue - they all have an admixture of other colors. ("Truth" cannot be true if it includes lies.) These animals who claim self-awareness and who struggle to meet these non-physical attributes fail completely every time. (Perhaps this continual attempt to incorporate these impossible goals explains why these animals try so desperately to achieve immortality, another impossible goal.)

So knowing that everything they do is completely useless and transitory, why is there such anger when their transitory achievements and false goals are interrupted or destroyed? There is as much importance to doing nothing as to doing anything. Even pleasure and comfort are simply methods to feel one thing and not another, and as feelings are illusory, it is of no real importance whether these animals live lives that are nasty, brutish, and short or lives that are beds of roses and chocolate-covered cherries.

Why such anger when a goal is thwarted? Have they no sense of reality?

Why I Avoid Political Blogging

Generally speaking, blogging about current events from a political slant is tiresome. People tend to read blogs when they agree with the view points and avoid blogs with contrasting viewpoints.

However, while this appears to be slanted to one political party, really it's slanted to a viewpoint about politicians in general:

 

ANY QUESTIONS?

(Mea culpa: I got this from a blog somewhere but neglected to remember the site so I could hat-tip them. If you know what blog this is from, please let me know so I can credit them.)

UPDATE!!!!From American Digest

The reason I like this is that it's very Shakespearean to distrust lawyers. Most politicians don't really write the laws that they pass: they have their staffs do it for them. The lawyer part of it comes in handy when arguing for something using only a set of facts that support your case but suppressing facts that hurt your case.

America doesn't need more lawyers. America needs more Americans to own the political process, and re-electing lawyers isn't going to make things better.

Words fail me

I really don't know what to say about this. I think it's real, but I'm not sure.

http://view.break.com/565864

UPDATEI got this from a blog, but I don't recall which. So (a) Hat tip to a blog that is unknown for now, and (b) I will attempt to remember to copy the blog URL before I make a post.

UPDATE!!!!From American Digest

Shrek (the Musical)

David Lindsay-Abair- Book and Lyrics

Jeanine Tesori- Music

August 24 7:00 pm. At the 5th Avenue (Seattle) in previews before it goes to NYC/the Broadway Theatre.

Shrek is a lonely but gruff ogre who is annoyed by a donkey, beset by a prince, and after a princess. The show is a work in progress, so songs, plot elements, and staging change nightly.

UPDATE 8/28: The official "Opening Day" is September 10th -- at that time, the show is "done" & ready for Broadway. Check the local papers (Seattle Times, PI) for their reviews on 9/11 or 9/12.

Good

Nice to see a story that's fairly kid-safe. Rated PG, suitable, I think, for 8 years and older, especially boys who like jokes about passing gas. Ha-ha, can't get enough of those. Choreography in the "Welcome to Dulac" number is clever. Pinocchio's costume is clever. Shrek's costume is well done. Sutton Foster is beautiful and sings beautifully. The set is very, very elaborate with multiple changes.

Weak

Donkey - songs, staging, acting - just doesn't fit the role. You could lift him out of the show & the show would be the same.

Much like the first act - if you eliminated this, you'd have the same show. The direct steal from "A Chorus Line" was so not funny. I think that number was about 10 hours long.

Songs in the whole show are weak overall, but the first act is especially boring. Sutton Foster is gorgeous and sings wonderfully in other shows - why do they tamp her down so tightly in this show?

I never felt like I understood why Shrek and Fiona fall in love, or why they are afraid to. Yes, I know - it's a fantasy. Still, don't just make the story move forward - make me understand why it's moving forward.

The whole show is weak. Not "Lone Star Love" weak.  But it drags on and on and on. [Believe me, "Lone Star Love" was dreadful. The entire cast brought charges against Randy Quaid, who was fined & is now banned for life from the American Theatre.]

Wrong

At times, truly dreadful staging. The Donkey just stands there during the Fiona/Shrek "passing gas" number. (Ha-ha, can't get enough of that.) He doesn't have to be Eddie Murphy, but he should be reacting to this - or he should not be on stage.

Many times characters that are not the focus of the story just stand there, in a line, like a middle school play. These are fantasy creatures who should have interesting & quirky things to do at all times. I should want to come back to the show just to see this stuff. Instead, they just stand there.

Many times the blocking upstage blocks the action downstage. This isn't deliberate by the actors as much as a decision (or lack of consideration) by the director who doesn't seem to realize that this is poor stagecraft.

Two dances/numbers are just "there" in an attempt to give the ensemble something to do. Which is better: to make the actors happy, or to please the audience? Your call, but realize that I'm the one paying the ticket.

If this is a "Broadway" show, then I terribly underestimate the nature of Broadway shows. As a work-in-progress, it's so-so. It's not fatally flawed, but the director/producer/writer/composer need to get into a room and yell at each other for a while. This is a weak, limp, listless show that looks like everyone got to put something in because "think how funny this would be."

The Yellow Wood

Michelle Elliott - Book

Michelle Elliott & Danny Larsen - Lyrics

Danny Larsen - Music

August 17 7:00 pm

Adam is half-Korean and half-Caucasian, has ADD, and has difficulties at school, culminating in an inability to memorize Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken." He experiences moments of fantasy as he shifts out of reality, meets Willis, and gradually learns the truth of the poem through his experiences in school. Witty ideas, imaginative staging. A rock musical type of show. The cast (mostly teens) worked extremely hard on this one, given the complex material and the short time to rehearse.

Good

The idea was very intriguing. How would someone with an active imagination ("overimagined activation") handle dealing with school when he's an outcast because he's defective in some way. The show takes Adam through various experiences as he works out how to memorize Frost; he meets various fantastical creatures in his imagination who help him come to terms with reality. Robert Frost as a walk-on in the fantasies was pretty funny. Willis was sweet and flower-like as she helps Adam work back into reality. Of all the shows I saw, this one had the most "staging" and it really helped to make the show more understandable. Props to Brian Yorkey.

Weak

This is a visual show, and a public reading doesn't do it justice. It needs lights, swirl, color, dancing. Brian Yorkey did a fabulous job with what he had - the use of the yellow paper in the show was a brilliant and touching point.

Wrong

It got confusing to have so many threads going, especially that of being half-Korean. Did that add to the story? While it's great and touching that Adam comes to a conclusion about the road not taken, it happens at the end. Isn't this poem about looking back on what happened when I took the road, not simply the choice? Not a terrible mistake, but perhaps a revealing one about understanding the show. The show was written for the high school market, but the songs were not songs that most high schoolers could sing - way too high up in the stratosphere. If high schools want to put this into their 'canon,' the songs need to be simplified a bit and brought down to where more people can sing them.

Songs

Prologue - Adam dreams of being popular and the greatest poet-interpreter ever. But it's a dream

I Gotta Memorize This Poem - Adam sings about having to do this work.

High School's Easy - Ensemble sings about all the difficulties of high school. Fun, upbeat song.

180 Degrees - Adam sings about needing to turn his life around and be normal. Big high-tenor number. Think Bee Gees on helium.

Point B - Darn funny interpretation of this song, and Pepe and Willis roll out on stage to illustrate a complex math problem. (Note: one member of the audience worked it out in his head during the song & pointed out that the answer given in the show was wrong. "Perhaps we meant it that way.")

Yellow - Willis sings to Adam on why it's beautiful to be yellow.

Who Was That Girl - Adam wonders, is Willis real? She kisses like she's real. The audience is confused. "What do you think?"

Debris - Gwen (Adam's sister) sings of being ignored.

The Undergrowth - Fantasy song about exploring a map. Fun.

I Believe - no notes on this one.

Tater Tot Casserole - Cassarelli, Adam's friend, sings about school food. Unnecessary song.

Adam's Acceptance Speech - Adam is nominated for class president, but still loses.

The Difference - no notes on this one

I Agree - Willis builds up Adam. Nice interpretation here - the yellow paper and yellow leaves making a yellow wood.

Wall - a wall separates Adam and Gwen. Will they break it?

180 / Who You Are - It's important to turn your life around.

On a Roof in Korea - in a dream, Adam and his 12-year-old mother sing about traditions.

On This Road - The Yellow Wood

Adam's Poem / Finale - "I am who I am."

Ready for Mainstage? No, only because there's too much in the story, and the ending doesn't satisfy. Move his revelation to the middle, intermission, and then Adam discovers "taking the road means life is different, and not always the way I expected."

The Gypsy King

Randy Rogel Book, Music, and Lyrics

Kirby Ward and Randy Rogel Concept & Creative Team

August 17 2:00 pm

A farce, a romp, and a bouffe. This is a farce much like a combination of "The Court Jester," "Guys & Dolls," "My Fair Lady," 30s madcap comedies, and "Noises Off!" The talented team of Fred and Leo tour Europe's second-rate towns with their third-rate acts. Fred meets Anisette who's running away from an arranged marriage proposed by her brother Prince Alfonse. Sergei, the regent, seeks to be king and wants to get rid of the prince; Fred and Alfonse are remarkably similar, and hilarity ensue. Mistaken identities, swordfights, mad rushing about, clever witty songs - it's a broad comedy that leaves the audience laughing.

Good

Very clever, full of action and antics. Eric Ankrim is brilliant in his dual role as Alfonse/Fred.

Weak

I don't know whether to laugh or be offended when Prince Dijon appears. Do they have to cast someone that is so against type? I felt like I was being asked to laugh at him for the way he looked. But, it's part of the plot.

Bobbie Kotula, one of my favorite comedic actresses, is wasted in her role as Marie. While she does have a lot of lines, she could be much more zany instead of being the voice of calm reason.

Wrong

This could be a very funny show, fairly safe for the family, if they'd drop the one or two instances of casual swearing or bad language. It doesn't add to the show, it dates the show (post 90s), and families will not want to spend $$$ to take their kids to a show with foul language. They can get that for free on MTV.

Songs

This Next Town Will Be It - Leo and Fred sing about the joys of the open road and how they wowed 'em at the Palace - and Court, Castle, and Town. Lots of obscure placenames.

I Want a Place (Fred & Anisette) Fred and Anisette sing separately how he wants a place to settle down, and she wants a place to be free.

The Noble Class - The Ascot Racing Day set in medieval Europe. Ensemble/choir piece.

The Plot! - It's so complicated, they have to sing about it - and the audience has to participate too. Fun, and great way to break the 4th wall

Be an Actor - Fred has to play Alfonse, and Sergei & the bad guys sing how easy it is.

Prince Dijon - The great prince will soon appear to take Anisette for his bride, and this song builds up his talents.

Storm at Sea - a sea-dog's tale of a storm at sea where Alfonse and Drago are drowned - or are they? More chanting than anything.

I Don't Need Diamonds - Anisette sings a simple song of what she wants in life, and it isn't diamonds. Sweet song of "Here's what I want"

Act II

The Prince Is Dead - Wailing and gnashing of teeth.

The King Is Back - luckily, Alfonse and Fred are back, or in prison, or on the throne, or something. It's all very complicated, and the plot thickens like pea soup curdling on the stove.

Love Duet - What do Fred and Anisette want? Love, of course.

Marriage - Marie and Leo sing about the unpleasantness of marriage

The Simple Truth - Marie explains how all this happened 21 years ago. "Wait. There's more!"

I Want a Place/Marriage/The Next Town Will Be It - big closing number. Fun.

Ready for the Mainstage? Probably. I think the audience absolutely loved it - laughs all the way. But in comparison to Chasing Nicolette (a more urbane and witty medieval set piece) or The Alchemists (a bittersweet, plummy, and beautiful tale of a woman's affect on four men around her), I think this would win out for broad appeal, even though it's clearly nothing new. Just fun. Nothing wrong with that. But the theatre has to make money, and this could be a solid, popular money-maker.

The Alchemists

UPDATED Name of play is "The Alchemists" (plural)

Cara Reichl and Peter Mills Story

Peter Mills Book, Music, and Lyrics

August 16, 2008 7:00 pm

Other reviews NYT review May 17, 2003

Young Anne becomes the ward of Mr. Stanley Auburn, a fine English gentleman of the 1810s. He has two sons, Stanley Jr. and Nicholas, and two other young men, Marcus and Nathaniel Plum, and he educates them in the ways of the modern world. They all grow up, and the young boys turn into men who are variously in love with Anne or others. Anne loves Nathaniel, but Nicholas loves Anne; Stanley is somehow engaged to Anne, and Marcus is in love with love and beauty. Hidden weapons, English society wordplay and class, servants who know everything. Absolutely delightful.

Gorgeous, rich music, witty and clever words, and a fantastic interweaving of the past and present.

Good

Beautiful, stunning music. The weaving of the past and present was just fantastic. The delirium of Nicholas was a delight.

Weak

I didn't understand Mr. Auburn's motivations. Having two people with similar names (Nicholas and Nathaniel) brought needless confusion. Stanley's reason for leaving Act I were unclear to some people around me (but I thought it was very clear), and his first song in Act II was unclear - was it the entire note?

Wrong

I did not detect any wrong elements in the story.

Songs

Note: I had a hard time taking notes and eventually stopped. I could not remain aloof from this wonderful musical, and just had to become a participant/audience member.

Prologue - the young boys sing of light and life and alchemy

A Fine Affair - English society prepares for the wedding of Anne and Stanley. Big ensemble number. Arch, British, funny, mordant.

I Can Play the Part - Anne can do it, even if she doesn't want to.

Painting Anne - the boys / men have their individual portraits of Anne.

Without a Word - no notes

Happy News - no notes

Snowbound - snow surrounds them, and they respond. Big lush atonal piece.

Impromptu - no notes

Golden - Marcus sings about art and life. He's in love with beauty, and fond of Stanley, but in a British, hopeless way.

A Mad Adventure - Hiding, hiding things, and hiding feelings

A Young Man's Prayer - Beautiful song, with young and present-day Nathaniel singing about Anne. Young Nicholas devotes his life to God and leaves Anne if God will spare Anne; the elder Nathaniel is still in love with Anne, regrets leaving her, but is sticking to his vow in gratitude for Anne's life.

The Cellar Door - dark poetry of Nicholas.

The Big Night - Stanley's night to celebrate, Nathaniel and Anne have their kiss, Nicholas is devastated, and Stanley leaves the stage.

End of Act I

Long Gone - Stanley recapitulates his note.

Yours - Publishers line up to despise Nicholas' dreary poetry. Funny, mordant, very British.

Elixir - the doctor prescribes laudanum for Nicholas, who takes too much and dreams. Brilliant, funny.

Almost - What do Anne and Nathaniel want? Almost enough?

In a Perfect World - no notes here

Is this ready for the mainstage? YES. Perhaps find a way to shorten the first act (it's 90 minutes long!), but how? It has so many beautiful songs that advance the plot or reveal character or motive. What could you cut?

This is the best show so far of all we've seen.

Dennis the Menace

Ernie Chambers Book

Daniel Manning and Nathan Wang Music

Kevin Murphy Lyrics

August 16, 2008 2:00 pm

The lovable rapscallion Dennis Mitchell comes to small town America and wreaks havoc. His new nextdoor neighbor George Wilson is so annoyed with Dennis he tries to get rid of the Mitchells but fails, and comes to new understanding about himself.

I liked this show a lot, and saw great potential. Then the story became more and more about George Wilson (Paul Lynde), and I stopped liking the show.

Good 

The story generally works well, and the songs are generally funny, bright, and uplifting. Dennis is a scamp, and George is a foil to him.

Weak

I think it's the staging (it was a reading, after all), but the song "Shine" dragged the show to a stop. It was a sweet song by Henry Mitchell to Dennis, but after two hours, he should have stopped singing. Dennis and the audience were asleep.

Wrong

Turning this into a show about George Wilson will just ruin it for the kids. They will want to see more of Dennis in the second act. And having Dennis grow up as an astronaut? This makes the show "untimeless." The show should end with a big number (like it does), but Dennis should do something rapscallionly, and George Wilson should scream "DENNIS!" one last time. That would make it timeless.

Absolutely Dreadful

George Wilson singing a rock song in the first act.

Songs

New Adventure - bright, happy song about new adventures for the Mitchells and the Wilsons. Fun song.

Firefly - sweet, poignant song by Dennis about how much more fun life is with a friend.

Mean Ol' Mr. Wilson's Place - a clever song about how Mr. Wilson is the neighborhood misanthrope. Lots of potential, but very weak without good vocals/microphones. I couldn't understand most of the words.

Shine - Henry sings to his son, Dennis, about the future. Nice idea for a song, but the show just stopped until the song was done. Maybe the situation setup isn't right. The song isn't bad. But I began looking around the theatre, wrote notes, composed a shopping list, and still had time to pay attention to the song.

Star Rangers - Dennis & the gang are star rangers - Very happy, bouncy song. One jarring note - reference to "lasers" in the 50s? Should be "ray guns."

Impossible Men - Alice, Martha, and Margaret sing about impossible men & how they define a woman's role. Slyly feminist? I don't know. But if so, does that belong here? This is a comic strip of the 50s.

Rock and Roll Aliens - the most dreadful song possible. George Wilson completely breaks character to become a 50s rock star. Not because he is dreaming, or wants to be one, but because the writers had this clever song, and they needed to use it, and why not George Wilson, it will be funny!

Vodey Odey Dodey - perhaps dropped from the show. I have no notes on this. Perhaps I was still stunned from the previous song.

Fourth of July/Fireworks - clever, witty interpolated songs. The Wilsons sponsor a 4th of July picnic in their backyard, and George burns down his roof. Dennis tries to warn him, but George doesn't listen as usual.

End of Act I

Bestest Morning - The Wilsons are living with the Mitchells, and Dennis is thrilled. It's a great day to be alive. Others are not so sanguine.

Mr. Wilson's Life - again, no notes.

Adios Estates - George tries to convince Martha of the glories of living in a retirement community. Funny song, but I began to think of the Bar scene in "Bye Bye Birdie" where Janet Leigh gets to dance. This is George's dance number. Why such an elaborate song & number?

Goldilocks, Abridged - funny, quick song by Alice to Dennis to get him to sleep so they can go out for the night while the WIlsons babysit.

Night to Remember - A sweet number by Alice & Henry as they dance during their date. George, in the meantime, is up to no good.

Noise - Dennis, make noise! It shows that George is alive.

Ready for the mainstage? ABSOLUTELY NO. Fix the ending to Act II - Dennis should NOT grow up. Make the story timeless. Stop turning the show into George Wilson Discovers Something Meaningful. GET RID OF THE PAUL LYNDE SHTICK. I hated that part. If I want to see "Bye Bye Birdie" again, I'll rent the movie thank you very much. The creative talent for this show definitely let this show lose control. (At one point I thought, "This is 'Bye Bye Birdie' with Dennis instead of Ann-Margret.") Now, I really liked Paul Lynde & thought he was funny, but why duplicate another actor's character?

Killala Bay

Chris Burgess Book and lyrics

Denise Wright  Music

August 15, 2008 7:00 pm

The story of one woman's search for her roots, and a town's search for its identity.

Grace, a New York City socialite, goes to Ireland to find her ancestral home on the western shores of Ireland in a wee little town called Ennismuck full of quaint happy people all speaking with quaint Irish accents. She discovers why her grandmother left Ireland, and is reunited with her grandfather, who then dies. Meanwhile, an evil mining company is raping and pillaging the land, and the Irish are somewhat upset, but they stay in town to dance happy Irish jigs and sing happy Irish songs. Grace meets up with the Mulcahy, the town anti-leader, who is in charge but doesn't want to be in charge. Together they discover that the mining company has corrupted the mayor and the local bigwig, and they expose their perfidy. Surprisingly, they also fall in love and discover happiness. Along the way, Oliver, Mulcahy's quirky sidekick, and Sally, the bartender for the bigwig's drinking house, break up and then fall in love, singing a song about building a home. In the end, the evil-doers are exposed and the good guys win. Oh, and there is a black pig, too.

I really wanted to like this musical. Martin Charnin directed, Shelley Burch was Grace, and the general idea started out well. But the plot is muddied by too many distracting elements. The whole mining company subplot could be removed & the story would stay the same.

The composer made the attempt to have a New York Broadway sound for Grace's music and an Irish country feel for the Irish people, and I think this would have worked better with an orchestra rather than a piano reduction - it just all sounded too flat.

Good

The idea was very good, and touching. Grace is hardbitten on the outside but inside is tender and looking for home. Mulcahy is a blustery Irish man too busy in work and too focused on his misery to pay attention to others, but Grace brings him around. The subplot of Oliver and Sally is sweet and funny, and they have the best song in the show.

Weak

Are these Irish folk quaint people speaking in witty aphorisms, symbolic of an Ireland that doesn't exist, or are they modern Irish people struggling in poverty on the west coast? I couldn't tell, because the musical seemed to make it both ways.

Ending of Act II. Limp.

Wrong

Drop the mining company subplot. It doesn't work, and doesn't do anything in the play to reveal character. Make the bad guys (the mayor and the bigwig) bad guys and not fools. If they were fools, they wouldn't be in charge of everything, unless the Irish people are bigger fools.

Fix the anachronisms or just wrong word use. A reference to the "Magna Carta" - would Ireland be much interested in this very British document? Would these quaint Irish folk on the west coast of Ireland really know that 42nd street is the heart of NYC? Drop the reference to "funny" things like Harry Potter.

Songs

Something in the Distance - Grace discovers the beauty of Ireland. Killala Bay & Ennismuck. Meh.

Count Me Out - Mulcahy will not be part of whatever is going on, and he sings about it. Meh.

Perfect Stranger - Grace is the stranger in town, and they let her know it. The townspeople sing a welcome to River City, set in Ireland. Some good potential, but I started to think that all Irish people are simpletons.

Beautiful - Ireland is so beautiful. Small intimate number. Meh

Killala Bay - Killala Bay is so beautiful. Big broad number. Big Meh.

Sixty Years Ago - Grace's grandmother left Theo to go to America, pregnant with Grace's mother. Sad, poignant. Good.

God Only Knows - Mulcahy sings about himself.  Meh.

Legend of the Black Pig - the townspeople sing about the dark night of the soul. The Irish people sing/chant a song. Lots of potential, but too much mugging.

Irish-American - Many people in America are Irish, but coming to Ireland doesn't make them Irish - they're half-breeds. Those happy Irish people sing in quaint accents an Irish jig type song. Good potential, but it turned me off even more about quaint Irish simpletons drinking themselves drunk.

Dead of Night - Theo sings about loss. Nice, rich, poignant. Very good potential.

Home - Grace finds her home. Meh. A limp ending to Act I

Wake! - We hear about Theo at the wake, a place to share truth. OK as an idea.

It's a Pig - the statue is a pig, and the bad guys are upset. The bad guys aren't evil, though. They're merely ignorant fools.

The Parade - Grace organizes a festival / show, but Mickey Rooney does not appear. Irish people living in poverty will organize a festival to show knitted potholders. Meh.

The Break-in - Grace and Mulcahy sing about finding nefarious doings in the mining company offices. Meh.

Loss for Words - are Grace and Mulcahy finally falling in love? Good potential.

There's a Bylaw - those evil doers find a way to block the statue. Clever song irrelevant to the story. Again, evil doers are fools and poltroons.

Patch of Land - Oliver woos Sally. Sweet, best song of the show.

Mulcahy's Lament - will he finally succumb? Meh.

The Parade - happy Irish people sing a jig. Meh. I'm getting tired of caricatures.

Killala Bay - the closing number with the cute Irish accents. Meh.

Ready for the Mainstage? Definitely NO. It's not a disaster, just unfocused. A severe rewrite is needed, and the Irish fakery needs to come out. Make this a real story, not a cute story for Americans. I don't think the music is bad, but it didn't work for me - not enough contrast between the styles.

Chasing Nicolette

The first 2008 Festival of New Musicals production.

Peter Kellogg Book and Lyrics

David Friedman Music

August 14, 2008 7:00 pm

This is a telling - or re-telling - of the story of Nicolette, a Carthaginian princess, and Aucassin, the son of a French count. Nicolette is captured by the count & made a slave in the court; the Aucassin falls in love with her and he convinces her to marry him. Hilarity and tragedy ensues; there are abductions, jailings, false marriage proposals, gender mix-ups, swordfights, but in the end, we find that love does conquer all.

Good

The story line, while familiar, brings in new elements such as class (slave vs. count) and race (black vs. white). The sword fights were cleverly staged even as a reading. The cast was excellent, with many Village Theatre familiar faces. The entire play, including the songs, is written as rhymed couplets, which makes the audience pay attention to the words. And the words and setups are hilarious. The laughter builds and builds. It's not gut-wrenching laughter such as you have with "Noises Off!" - it's more the "I am having so much good fun with this play." The words are also very cleverly rhymed. Many times you don't know what the rhyming scheme will pair up with a word, so you are waiting for the line to end.

Weak

The character of the king of Carthage. What is his role? He didn't seem to be a part of the story. Breaking the 4th wall. I wasn't sure what this was for, but when it happened, it seemed to be too much "mugging" for the audience. I think I could have gotten the gist of the story without the direct lecture. The melodies/songs. While I liked the songs in general, I felt the melodies were very, very predictable. There were moments when the song needed to soar or get bigger, but instead we went right back to the verse. I can see by Friedman's resume that he has done many shows, so I don't think it's lack of talent. If the songs were designed to be simple to showcase the words, I think they went too far towards simplicity. The words were strong enough to have a stronger and more interesting melodic line and structural support. Compare to "Once Upon a Mattress," which is also a crazy mix-up story -- the melodic line and song structure are extremely sophisticated, and yet the cleverness of the words comes through.

The entire set-up of Muslim v. Christian is a caricature. Nothing in the story really explores this or even uses it other than as a way to say "Hey, we're showing that Muslims and Christians both are valuable people." But it's not really used. The issue of race is better explored because it's more obvious (yeah, they cast black people as the Moors), but if Nicolette is Muslim, why doesn't she do something or show something that represents this? If Aucassin is a "Christian" (that is, part of the state religion of the Middle Ages), what about him shows this?

The development of courtly love happened around this time, and the story tries to bring this in. I think that's an unexplored issue in this show.

The opening number was weak as well. I wanted it to be bigger, to set the stage, to embrace me.

Wrong

The ending of Act I. It just kinda limped off the stage. Yeah, I felt the ending of Act I coming, but this song didn't bring the crisis to a point where I was waiting for Act II. It was more "Oh, the lovers are parted but they remember something."

Songs

Modern Times - opening number. Needs to be longer or more interesting. Staging needs lots of movement and drama, I think, to engage the audience and set the stage for the swirl of the story. Maybe engage us into WHY you're telling us the story the way you do with rhyming couplets. The issue of "modern times" drops away from the show after this number.

Nicolette - lament of the king of Carthage. OK. Nemur (his ward) picks up the lament & sings it at various moments throughout the show.

Now and Forever - Aucassin and Nicolette's song. Should be BIGGER and SOARING. Make me FEEL that they're really, truly in love and united against the forces that will divide them. (UPDATE: However, this is the one song from the show I'm still humming two days afterward.)

You Have to Lie - clever song by Valere, Aucassin's valet, about the value of lies to protect the truth.

I'm Not Upset - the count's song to his son upon hearing of the proposed marriage. Good; staging helps a lot with this one.

Nothing in Common - Don't remember this one.

Agnus Dei - the nun in the nunnery consoling (!) Nicolette. OK.

Romance - Valere and Montescu, the count's valet, deconstruct romance. Clever dance number

Sword Against Sword - the swordfight between Aucassin and Count Valence. Gets more and more forceful. Fun song.

I Was Raised in a Convent - Gwendolyn, Count Valence's daughter, is offered in marriage to Aucassin, and she sings a song of sweet innocence.

You're Always on My Mind - Nicolette, locked up and starving in the convent, sings a song of remembrance about Aucassin -- and food.

Now and Forever - closing of Act I.

Do What You Will - the clever "torture" song. Much better, I'm told, than the original. It's not dark or even morbid. More like "The Princess Bride."

Sing to Her - the King of Carthage advises Nemur to get Nicolette through singing. Meh. Unfunny.

There Once Was a Man - Nemur's "love" song to Nicolette. Meh. Does Nemur really want this?

Stranger and Stranger. I loved this song. It had so many clever allusions. Big gorgeous number. And yet it still could be stronger.

Do Nothing - Valere's song about staying out of trouble. OK. Weak in comparison to the others.

If You Were in Love - I think this was the song Nicolette sang to make Gwendolyn fall out of love with Aucassin.

Finale - what can I say? Close of show.

 

Is this ready for Main Stage? No. It needs a retooling of the songs. Fix the king's character and song. Make me understand Nemur's character. Make me REALLY BELIEVE that Aucassin and Nicolette are truly in love. Rethink the 4th wall issue - do you want to address the audience directly? Maybe you could use this conceit to address the problem of the rhyming couplets - maybe the opening song could bring this up. If you're going to mention Muslim v. Christian, show me something other than sticking a label on someone that says "See? A Muslim! They are not like us!"

Festival of New Musicals

The Village Theatre is holding its eighth annual Festival of New Musicals. Hopeful writers and composers get their agents to submit their work; the Village then picks 6 or so musicals to present in their first (or nearly first) public reading.

The readings are done by an assembled "cast," who read from the script & sing the songs, and are accompanied by a pianist and possibly a technical/Foley guy. Typically, the readings are held at the First Stage (the original theatre) in downtown Issaquah; this year, due to the interest & number of attendees, it's being held at the Main Stage (about a block away). The actors sit on folding chairs on the stage, and have a few stage elements (such as scattered platforms); they read from their scripts and use music stands to hold the pages. After the show, the audience fills out evaluation forms, and can stick around for a talk-back, which is a time to interview the writers, composers, directors, and producers about the goals and genesis of the shows.

We will see six shows during this festival. Some of them have been "read" before or have even been produced in some form, but these readings are useful to the creators and producers to get better audience reactions and feedback. The goal is to create a show that is stageable, profitable, and ready for the general American musical canon.

Depending on the audience reaction to this reading, and taking into consideration the judgment of the Village Theatre creative staff, the show may be re-presented later in the year after going through a rewrite. And some shows may go on to be produced on the Main Stage during the season. That's how we saw "Million Dollar Quartet," a revision of "Little Women" (by the original creators who weren't happy with their "Broadway" version), and "Girl of My Dreams" on the Main Stage. We've also seen a fleshed-out staging of "Terazin" on the First Stage, and we saw the second reading of "The Last Starfighter" and "Iron Curtain."

To attend the festival, you need a membership. It's fairly cheap ($75 for one, $100 for two, and up), and you get to attend all the new musical productions for the year. So, if a musical you see in these readings goes through a revision and is re-staged, you get to see it again as part of your package deal. The festival itself is six musicals, with various receptions, talk-backs, and parties, so you get quite a package of entertainment. The opening night is a buffet dinner, with dessert and wine, and the casts from the various shows preview a song from each show. Then they open the doors and let the audience in to see the show; afterwards they host a talk-back. During the various receptions and talk-backs the audience members can meet the artists and creators of the shows.

Michael has been a small part of the festival. He's been the Assistant Musical Director (AMD) for "Yellow Road," which will be previewed on Sunday. And he's the official page turner for "The Alchemist," to be previewed Saturday. Michael's been an intern at the summer youth program at the Village, playing the piano for the three KIDSTAGE camps, and being the AMD for "The Secret Garden," which was presented on the Main Stage over the last two weeks. He might be asked to orchestrate one of the KIDSTAGE original productions, if Steve Tompkins remembers to ask him.

He's also turned in his original musical, "Winter Brake," to Suzie Bixler (KIDSTAGE Programs Manager) and R.J. Tancioco (Musical Director of "The Secret Garden" as well as the MD or AMD for many productions at the Village, the Fifth Avenue, and other venues around the area). We hope they look at it and consider it for a KIDSTAGE reading or even production.

I'll write a separate blog entry on each of the productions. My viewpoints are, of course, entirely my own. I will attempt to be honest without being too snarky or destructive. It's easy to either fall in love with the "theatre" and gush over everything, or to find fault with everything about a production. I'm not a professional theatre critic, I've really never been on stage, and I don't have much insight into things of theatre. I'm just an audience member who sees a lot of shows.

Man struck by lightning faces battery charges

Oh, that's my favorite headline EVER.

I'm at home today after a whirlwind weekend.

Saturday was the "Festival at Mt. Si" -- usually this is a home-grown county fair type event, but we've had unusually cool weather for August - highs in the mid 60s, rainy, windy. So we watched at home as the skies got darker and darker. We went to the Wises to celebrate with a barbecue, and the rain finally drove everyone indoors. The Festival has a fireworks show at 10pm, but it was so cloudy, rainy, and cold that we just went home. We heard the fireworks from our home, but even though we live about 8 blocks from the place where they shoot off the works, we couldn't see anything except some random brightening of the clouds.

Sunday was the closing of "The Secret Garden" at the Village Theatre (Michael's in the orchestra for that one) and the closing of "A Chorus Line" at the Paramount. TSG is a nice, solid show for the KIDSTAGE program -- kids up through 19 can be part of it. They have two programs in the summer, one student-led and one with a professional support team. This was the second one, on the mainstage, and the sets, costumes, and lights were beautiful.

At the Paramount we saw the National Touring Company perform. ACL is a classic, of course, but they made it believable and fresh. Even though I know the story and know the lines, we still laughed out loud at certain points as if the joke was the first telling: [To Sheila, the older lady] "What do you want to be when you're grown up?" "Young." I thought that the character of "Paul" was very believable in his monolog - but then when he fell with torn knee, it didn't seem that believable. I guess I was expecting a little more sense of ripping pain. He just kinda fell.

Today is chore day - I'm cleaning up the yard, painting the house, the shed, and staining the fence. Along the way I set out yellowjacket traps, but the attractant spilled, and I need to be inside for a while.

Orwell is posting

George Orwell's Blog

An interesting idea.

Festival of Life Day

As you all know, August has no holidays. From July 4 to the first Monday in September, there are no days you can take off. Sure you can use your precious personal days off or even your vacation days, but why should we have to do that? What we need is a holiday in August.

To get this holiday, we have to think of something that's worth a holiday. Surely if we can put a man on the moon, we can think of a holiday in August that would be worthy of a holiday.

August is the month when we can expect the most consistently hot weather. Even in Seattle we have days of above 70 weather. (Today hit 90 degrees downtown. I can vouch for this because as I passed the Wells Fargo bank downtown, he building next to it displayed the temperature and time, and I'm pretty sure that they would be arrested if they were trying to pass off bogus information. After all, they are a bank.)

So combining the fine weather with the absolute required need for holidays in August, I'm proposing that the third week of August have three days of holiday for the Festival of Life. These three days (Tues, Wednesday, and Thursday) would be a holiday for everyone to celebrate the beauty of life. Day One would involve picnics and fireworks, Day Two would be games and activities, and Day Three would be an extra "Do what you want day." By having it during the week, we'd make it so that Monday and Friday would be especially productive. Plus, everyone is so down on the midweek anyway that declaring it a holiday would be good for everyone.

If you like this idea of the three-day Festival of Life, be sure you contact your congressional representative and both senators. If they get to take off five weeks in the summer (FIVE WEEKS!) surely they can see fit to allow us a measly three days.

What a Piece of Work Is Man

I've been thinking lately about the intricate functionality of a human life.

One of the things that brought this to mind is some recent health events in our lives. Tina has recently been diagnosed with Type II diabetes and high cholesterol, and I've been dealing with hypertension. No huge issues yet - we're both apparently at the stage where diet, exercise, and some medication can help deal with it - but the interesting thing about this is how much our bodies attempt to stay in stasis. So many (I have no way of counting) systems in our bodies work in close agreement. I eat a sandwich, and my stomach acids start the breakdown - then then the digestive environment turns alkaline. Somehow this transition happens without discomfort - but if I drop vinegar into baking soda, I get a reaction of gas and heat. In my body, this happen silently. My organs function fairly regularly for years, pumping and aerating blood, digesting food, filtering, collecting, and excreting waste - all without any conscious effort. There are an amazing variety of things I can eat & that my body will digest without much protest.

All this happens in a body that also contains a brain, which somehow contains a mind, an immeasurable and somewhat unmappable entity. I am in my body, but I don't think my body is who I am. If I lose hair or fingernails, I don't think anything essential of me is lost. If I lose my thoughts, though, I think I'm no longer who I thought I was.

And all this is developed throughout a life, and then ceases at death. All that was before me that led to my birth and development--all to no end.

It leads me to think that accomplishments in life are also to no effect.

Amazon Payments is live!

Just wanted to say again that Amazon Payments is finally LIVE!

Well, yeah, it was live last year, but now it included Checkout by Amazon.

Launch

At last, after much work...

News about 2008

 

H/T Rick Ianiello

Incroyable!

USB Wine - Its Time Has Come!

Wordle

The new Wordle for my blog:

Snapshots of the Country

An interesting compilation of scenes around the valley.

This is from Animoto.

Couldn't Resist This One

H/T Continuing Adventures of ASBO Jesus

Almost

 

We're almost there. We've been working on a project for the last two years, and everything is starting to converge on the final product.

But it also means long hours and lots of fussy changes (required to make the final product fit).

So - blogging might be light for a few weeks.

Accidie in the Third Millennium

Escaping? "What is it about us humans that allows us to pursue so many useless passions with such fervor?"

At first I thought it would be about the genuine and delightful mystery of humanity that seeks to explore and define the universe. But this essay isn't really about that.

The warnings about accidie are still true.

H/T: Rick Ianniello

More on the Garden

I was wrong about the peonies opening up in late April / May. They are just barely opening now, June 8. The 'flag' irises are opening in the front (white and purple), and the bearded irises are still in bud form.

It's been quite cold here through May. It can be chilly most springs, but this is very, very cold. For a few days we haven't even hit 50 degrees F, and there was fresh snow on the mountains a few days ago - in June.

The clematis is doing wonderfully well. I bought it about 4 years ago, intending to plant it against the house, but it stayed in the pot because we were going through the remodel. I planted it finally on the trellis outside about 3 weeks ago, and it has responded by filling in the trellis. It's a jackmanii with dark purple blossoms. We had a jackmanii at our old home; that vine was about 30-40 years old, and it cover the side of a 2 story garage with a huge wall of flowers from May through November. I'm hoping this one will take up the trellis and be trainable along the roof line.

We took out two maples last year (they were threatening to split apart onto our home); the detritus from the chipping was piled into a mound and I'm leaving it for mulch. When it was first piled up, it smoked - it generated so much heat from self-composting that you couldn't stick your hand in and leave it for any length of time. But it calmed down, and now is about a foot or so deep on the hillock. I noticed today that the mulch has sprouted mushrooms, so the wood is finally starting to decompose rapidly.

I think the peonies should be open soon - they're looking like they're about to burst.

Seeing Through Life

Wednesday this week (June 4) my left eye was bothering me at work - irritated, grainy, like it was scratched. I thought it was my contact lens, so I took it out. That offered some relief, but the eye still bothered me all day. It was reddened and "weepy," and my nose was also "weepy" - but only the left side. I suspected it might be a sinus infection, but didn't think much of it. A box of Kleenex, and I'd be fine.

But it didn't get better, and by Thursday morning my left eye had swollen shut, and in sympathy my right eye was reluctant to open as well. I went to the doctor; he examined the eye & pronounced it as irritated (no duh!) and infected, and prescribed powerful mouse-sized drugs. (The pills were the size of mice, not simply the dose for mice.) Plus, I have to put drops in my eyes three times a day; a fun experience because I put them at the corner of the eye, then open my eye & roll my eyeball around to distribute the drops. Usually this means that the eye drops roll around my lower eyelid onto my face (yes, I am facing upward when I put the drops in). I think I'm getting some medicine in them, and I expect that the drug dispersal method is designed to accommodate user error such as this.

By Friday, things had cleared up enough for me to return to work, but I am not putting my contacts in until everything's back to normal.

This means that I am in my "natural" state of being unable to see much of anything. For much of my childhood I had excellent eyesight for reading. I remember being able to read the very, very small print in books (footnotes), print ads, or other areas with relative ease. The letters were clear and sharp. I am not sure whether I was aware that my ability to see far was bad. That didn't happen until I was learning to drive with my dad; when he pointed out a funny billboard to me, I replied "what billboard?" He then realized (while I was driving in busy traffic) that I had eyesight problems. For most of m