Here’s the thing: would we be so quick to create vicious memes if Davis were a conventionally attractive, only-once-married citizen of irreproachable moral standing?
Category Archive: Bits
The other night, I stopped into Byrne Dairy on my way home from a theater job. I placed on the checkout counter two cartons of ice cream, two dozen eggs, a gallon of milk, and a 12-pack of Saranac Octoberfest, brewed just 5 miles down the road. “I can’t let you buy that if she’s here,” said the whippersnapper clerk, indicating 15 year-old Sarah.
I stepped out of the car, into the cool pine air. The ground crunched underfoot, a combination of dirt, stones, tree roots and leaves. What I’d missed most of all: the unhurried silence. My heartbeat slowed, I breathed deeper, I was home.
Scene: An abandoned street, replete with broken windows and graffiti-covered walls. Empty bottles and drug paraphernalia litter the pavement. A streetlight flickers. The camera settles on a dented trashcan, toppled over, garbage spilling onto the sidewalk. We hear footsteps approaching, and see two spiky-haired silhouettes enter the frame.
I’m the furthest thing from a single-issue voter you’ll find. I’m all about the greater good and pragmatism. But hear this, clown car: If you promise to defund Planned Parenthood, you’re disqualified from leadership in my book.
I considered, “What am I trying to accomplish?” As a performer, director, producer or technical theater craftsman, my goal is to surprise and delight an audience, to make people feel and/or think. Any of those. As a writer, my goal is to surprise and delight an audience, to make people feel and/or think. The intention is the same, whether I make the show or write about it.
47 would be an incredible, pricey age for a Scotch. Like that Scotch, Susan is more valuable and fascinating every year.
Criticism is my favorite kind of writing. Somebody wrote that criticism is taste + experience. I have both of those, so of course I’m going to contribute to the form. Stick with me, fasten your seatbelts, or at least cover the next round. I’m not quitting.
It is absolutely not my intention to make someone feel unheard, devalued and disrespected. On the other hand, if that person has chosen grammatically incorrect pronouns as the test by which my disrespect is perceived and measured, “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate,” with apologies to Strother Martin.
Sure, Game of Thrones, we get it. Everybody dies. Maybe that chick is going to come back with her dragons and win the game. Maybe not. But here’s what you haven’t yet answered, and probably can’t: What does it matter?
mossislandsounds.com 