Roots

I originally started this blog with the intent of writing "open letters" to people. Not anyone specific necessarily, but communities, groups, organizations, what have you. I wrote one to New Jersey once. It was amazingly lame.

I'm feeling generally dissatisfied about life recently. I can't really put a finger on it, but I have a good feeling it's because I'm not doing what I want to be doing. I want to be on stage or in front of a camera, or writing a play or a book. That's what I went to school for.  I spent five years learning about Brecht and Stanislovski and Brooks and MacIvor (it was in Canada, after all). I split my focus between queer theatre and semiotics. I got to work with some of the largest queer playwrights and production companies in Canada, and I wrote papers on how eight blocks of wood painted black are all you need to mount "America Hurrah!" because a box is a chair is a throne is a castle is a kingdom is a tyranny.

I miss it. I want to go back to it. I want to memorize lines and freak out when I drop one. I want to go through the long, agonizing hours of a level set and q-2-q and see the finished product. I want the costume fittings and the breathing exercises and the tongue twisters. A hot cup of coffee in a proper copper coffee pot. She sells sea shells by the sea shore. Lemon face, lion face. Unique New York. Toy boat.

The last show I was in was a modern translation of "The Bacchai" by Colin Teevan. I played Cadmus, the aged King and founder of Thebes, who killed a mighty dragon and sowed its' teeth in the ground, from which the people of Thebes grew. He was a grandfather of Dionysus, god of wine and the theatre.

The first play I did was Shakespeare. I loathe Shakespeare. Mostly because no one ever plays it right. They speak in verse whenever its performed, even at college levels. It's not meant to be spoken in verse! In fact, the only reason I can stand reading or watching any production of Romeo and Juliet is because when I stage managed the show a couple years ago, the director brought everyone together and told us not to take the show seriously. The greatest love story ever told? Hardly! It was two horny teenagers who wanted to bone. Juliet was only fourteen and Romeo was seventeen. HORNY TEENAGERS. That's it!

I'm getting nostalgic.

It is snowing in New Jersey, and people are acting like the world is about to end. How can there be so little preparation for snow in this state?

So it looks like my stint in New Jersey is coming to an end. Major budget cuts reduced my salary by 75%, which translates to me heading back to Maine and getting a job working for health care, a debate which I have been sorely absent from. I have no idea what's happening there because I've been living marriage equality all day every day for nigh on ten months now. I'm a little intimidated, to be honest. There's so much work that has gone into creating this goddamned bill that now... well who knows.

I feel really bad about it too. Like I'm deserting the people of New Jersey. Like I'm dropping marriage equality as the most important thing to me right now.

I've been working on an open letter to New Jersey, and will post it soon. Kind of a dry run for future open letters. Not that anyone will read it, but at least it's out there. And maybe a bio. Not that anyone would care all that much.

And so it begins...

So here's the thing. I wanted to do something... different with this blog. That's how it started anyways. I originally had this idea of writing open letters to everyone. Politicians, celebrities, communities, states, concepts, ideas, whatever I wanted whenever I had an idea to process. But, that's not quite enough.

That, and I couldn't find a blog name I was happy with.

So here's my blog. Not another homo. I dare say my life is hardly worth blogging about, but there you go.

I'm sitting in a freezing cold office with a heater circa 1972 piteously breathing on my feet, trying to thaw.

I'll write more about who I am later. For now, consider the following:

(an excellent segment on Bill Nye)

Wednesday (December 17th) marks the 20th anniversary of the first episode of The Simpsons (as a series... the shorts on the Tracey Ullman Show started in '87). Like most shows that go for so long, it's starting to dip. We saw it happen/can see it happening with SNL. Either the show will continue to descend right into the grave, or it will experience a grand rebirth and (god willing) end on a high note. I also find it interesting that, even after 20 years, there's only been one movie and no spin-offs. Interesting in a very good way, I might add.

If you're still reading this, good on ya! But really? Get the hell out there and do something because even I can think of better things to do than read this garbage.