And you never know what they will do

Rochester, NY

Every once in a while a day just slaps you in the face. Sometimes that slap hurts. Sometimes it’s a wake up call. And sometimes it serves as a reminder that you’re doing the right thing. Friday was of the latter sort of day. We were doing shows at an upper elementary school in Westborough, MA and there was a perfect theatrical moment in our second show. A fourth grader took it upon himself to really be a part of the show. It was a brilliant moment.

You never know who you’ll run into

New York City

Last night we went to a reading of a new play in midtown, at a bar called Nation (on 45th, between 5th and 6th), put on by Prophecy Productions. A friend of Michelle’s was directing it and so I had higher expectations than I might have otherwise. What??? No automatically high expectations for theatre in New York? That’s right; there’s a whole lot of crappy theatre done in New York–and sometimes I think I’ve seen most of it. Think about it, a city of 8+ million people (plus the burbs) is bound to turn out a lot of bad work based on sheer volume alone. Of course, with 8+ million people, there’s a lot of good theatre going on as well. My point is that the good stuff isn’t just falling out of the sky, you have to search it out like anyplace else.

Chattanooga: a really nice zombie town

Chattanooga, TN

Don’t let the title fool you; it’s not a dis. I love zombie movies and walking around downtown Chattanooga the other day gave me the feeling I was in one. Now there was plenty of auto traffic, and streetlights, and open businesses, but there weren’t any people about. We started out on the south side, where we had lunch and walked around the Chattanooga Choo-Choo complex that’s me on the Choo Choo above). As we wandered north into the heart of the entertainment and art districts, the foot traffic was eerily sparse.

Some people just don’t know how to think

Everyone’s favorite science denying soccer mom, Ftk, is showing off superior critical thinking skills again. In a discussion–as such things exist at her blog–about evolution and common descent, she cites first class whack job DaveScot as an authority in proper argumentation technique.

New Hampshire had a Primary?

Chattanooga, TN

Clinton who? Where’s McCain again?

Ah, the wonders of a news day in small town America. Michelle and I performed in Henderson, KY the last couple days and the local paper came out and did a story at our second school on Tuesday. Some of the more astute out there might also recall that there was some national political goings-on that same day. Apparently Henderson couldn’t have cared less about that. We were the lead story, A-1, above the fold in Wednesday’s paper, followed by that stuff that went on in New Hampshire (sure, they were A-1, but below the fold). Or, maybe we just take better pictures than politicians.

Where the heck did winter go?

Henderson, KY

Sure, I’ve been in North Carolina and Kentucky for the last two weeks, but really, is it too much to ask of nature to at least fake winter? Yesterday in Cadiz, KY (I learned today that it’s pronounced: KAY-dees) it was in the sixties. Today, in Henderson it got to sixty as well. It rained a little–very winter-like. That was enough for the Fantastic Sam’s across from the hotel to be closed because of the weather. Seriously, the handwritten sign on the door said, “Sorry, due the weather, we are closing early.” Now, I assume that had to due with the tornado warning that was briefly issued for the area, but it was still an odd sign to read.

Fortunately the Chinese restaurant was still open. For dinner, not a haircut.

An overdue apology to Kentuck-ah!

Cadiz, KY

A good portion of last year was spent making fun of the Commonwealth of Kentucky (I mean, come on, the commonwealth…). Sure, there are sections of highway where the houses alternate between million dollar mansions and burned out trailers (with equal numbers of each over any ten mile stretch). But the commonwealth also has a great deal of natural beauty and a lot of friendly people.

To find out what it really means.

Asheville, NC

The title of this post refers to a poem, not any specific poem but to a single poem in general. It is the last line of An Introduction to Poetry, written by former poet laureate of the US, Billy Collins. If you know the poem at all, the irony of the rest of this paragraph many overwhelm you.

With apologies to Billy, I must say that following the advice in his poem is the perfect way to skim across the days of your life, dipping a toe in here and there, without ever really slowing down and taking stock of what you’ve done. You’ll glide on by a lot of stuff which seems important, you’ll see it, hold it, breath it in, then release it to the air and breathe back in the best parts later on. You’ll find yourself wandering here and there, looking out on too many things to put away, things that you’ll wish you’d remembered, and are still glad that you’ve seen.

And maybe that’s the point.

Of Mountain Men and Millionaires

Asheville, NC

I asked today, “Why is this town here?” Now, in print, that could read like a terrible dis. Actually, it could sound that way in person as well, but I didn’t mean it that way.