Days have gone by and I couldn't be sorrier.
Yes, I've done it again. Disappeared. But now I'm back. You did realize I was gone, didn’t you? Well. By way of celebrating my Thanksgiving advent, I’m going to filch from the creativity of some fellow bloggers. Following playwright Patrick Wohlmut’s lead over at his bl

Thespian Nation
Just finished the theater equivalent of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride (don’t extend the metaphor too far, please) that’s taken me from one end of the county to the other. It started on Wednesday – not with a play, actually, but a theatrical event. Dmae Roberts read from her work-in-progress memoir, Lady Buddha and the Temple of Ma. The poised Ms. Roberts delivered a funny, self-deprecating and touching performance that left me looking very forward to the publication of her book. Not to steal her thunder, but ask her to tell you what her mother taught her about how to kill chickens. No, it’s not grisly – quite the contrary.The

At last: a No Exit I can live with
Plays I refuse to sit through again in this lifetime:All My SonsFeydeau’s idiotic so-called sex farcesSpring AwakeningPretty much all Roman “comedies”Mother CourageButterflies Are FreeAlthough I must admit. There’s a passel of plays that

Orpheus a là mode
Forget what you believe about Philip Glass. If you’re accustomed to associated his music with numbing repetition and avant-garde antics, his opera Orphée is going to come as a surprise. Oh, it sounds like Glass all right. But yoked into the service of narrative, his music finds depths and nuances you don’t always find in classic operatic warhorses.

My big trip
Though my Halloween Countdown disguised the fact, I was gone for a spell last week, sunning my pasty northwestern legs and otherwise aging my skin cells in the turquoise waters of Napili Bay. Maui.Sure, it was lovely. But remind me never to l