I have a time machine in my kitchen

It's true. It's on right now, and the portals of time have opened wide. Time it was and what a time it was, it was, a time of innocence. A time of confidences. I am, right now, sitting in a van stuffed full of my fellow Blackford High Schoolers, and we are heading North to Canada to backpack for a week. The floor of the van is really warm, and Kim has just informed me that the only reason Tom and I love the song The Boxer is because it has the word "whores" in it.

And I blink my eyes, the machine does its thing and...

I am skipping down Fifth Ave. in NYC, and I am in love, and I am singing into my cell phone, and I don't care who hears me, and all is well.

And I go upstairs a few minutes ago which is also right now, because time has liquefied this morning, and I am watching some movie with Drew Barrymore and I am also in the airport in Fairbanks, Alaska meeting my father for the first time in my grown up life, and I am heading back to the airport three weeks later, and also, at the very same time, I am thirteen years old and it's the middle of the night, and some man I don't know is talking to me and I can't make out what he's saying, but my older brother is telling me it's my father.

My dog has just died and I am learning to drive and I am in college and I just got published and I just lost my mother and I am in the shopping mall and in trouble because my sister told me to take the coins out of the fountain and I did it and now mom is going to have to get me and on it goes...

Sometimes, like Billy Pilgrim, I think we all become unhinged in time- we go to what I used to think of as the Everytime- a place where all moments, past present and future, roll together in a torrent of emotion and old songs and movie quotes and photos, and while it is tempestuous and overwhelming there is a sort of order to it all- and just like any strong current, the only way to get through it is to work with the flow.

Hello darkness, my old friend. And Brian and Tom and Vinnie and Dan and Tim and Jay and Taft- hello old mentor wise man genius.

The halls of my memory are so crowded.

And it's now today and it's now yesterday and it's now forever.

I am I, and I am singing Man of La Mancha with Myles in the back station at Bryant Park, and I am holding my nephew up to the sky on the day he is born, and I am getting married in the town square in Prague, and I am going with the flow.

And it's yesterday now forever.

Again.

The Soul Is Like a Shark

There's a great scene in Annie Hall where Woody Allen likens a relationship to a shark- if it doesn't keep moving, it dies. I think the same is true of our souls. We must keep moving, growing, trying new things- or we slump over and die, and join the living dead. Fortunately, this zombie-fication is not permanent, and there are many quasi- voo doo rituals that can restore us. A trip to India, planting flowers, learning a new language. The list is infinite and groovy and unique to each of us.

I ponder all this because of my buddy Jack, who is painting again, after many years. Hooray. He's even presenting some of his art to the public. Double Hooray. It's been something like fifteen years since he last delved into the waters, and I am vicariously thrilled.

Jack was my room mate many moons ago in the magic land of Salinas. Salinas? Si, Salinas. We lived the Bohemian life with our fellow room mate Greg- and we were always short on money but never short on inspiration. We would have parties- well, we kind approached life as a continual party. At any given time, you could find someone writing a poem, painting, making up an interpretive dance to Gershwin or Jane's Addiction.

On top of that, we were working on a three part, nine hour adaptation of Steinbeck's East of Eden at the Western Stage, which was one of the most amazing theatrical experiences of my life, so far. They were salad days in the salad bowl of the world, and we were all Caesars and Cleopatras. To put it simply, life was groovy.

So, life went on, we went on, and presto change-o, fifteen years go by and we're elsewhere, doing other things. And that's cool- but at the same time, it's become much easier to forget that life is for the living, that one must howl at the moon now and then, that the chimes of midnight demand to be heard. Somehow, we spend more time worrying and less time celebrating. And that's no good.

So Jack, who like all of us has had his share of ups and downs, of remembering and forgetting, has found his way back to creating something that expresses the mystery of existence.

And that gives me hope. It inspires me. It reminds me that we are all of us artists, that we all must keep our souls on the move, or close our eyes and stumble along towards oblivion.

Click on this: Jack : to see more on the show Jack is showing his stuff at.

And here is a poem I wrote in Bohemia:

EDEN (EAST)

Jim dropped the ball

on Greg

but then again

We all gathered in the dark

between the lights

My God

it was all so

huge

Every one of us

were in the Land of Nod

And in that filthy dirt

we reached

peace

communicated

For at least 9 hours

or maybe one act

Hard Times became

more

than just a song

and then

in the final approach

to what was death

We watched them all

stand

and cheer

as we

slowly

Walked into the grave

of a moment

that will never

never

come again

March Fourth, the only day that's also a sentence

So. What's been happening since last I posted? There is this weird guilt thing that goes with having a blog- it goes something like this. "My goodness, I haven't posted in a while. I should do that. I feel bad." This is followed by many thoughts on what to blog about. "I know, I'll give them my take on healthcare!". The blog gets plotted out in my mind. Oh, the wit! The brilliance of it all. Then, somehow, an hour has passed and I have to go tend to other things like paying bills and walking the dog, and teaching my classes. A day or week goes by, and no blog. Then I think, "My goodness, I still haven't posted!", and the vicious cycle continues.

Well, Hell with that. I write when I write, and if there are months in between, so be it.

So, a quick update on all things me- and yes, I do think the world revolves around me, just like you think the world revolves around you. We are all our own little universes, aren't we?

There are two readings happening on either side of the country. On Sunday, the Seattle Playwrights Collective is doing a reading of "Sunny" as part of their First Look series. This play was originally called "Fenway: Last of the Bohemians", and is co-written with my wife, Lisa Holub. It's loosely based on Uncle Vanya by Anton Chekov. It is set on a faded hippie commune in the mid-1980's- you know, back when conservatives were running around talking about how liberals were ruining the country with all their social and environmental programs. Such a different time. Anyway, if you are in the Seattle area, you should check it out.

The other reading is a benefit performance of Burning the Old Man being put on by the Boomerang Theatre Company as part of it's Legacy Reading Series. So far, this play has been the most successful, and it got it's start with the Boomerangs, so please come out and support a great theatre group. There are lots of things going on with that show- lots of possible productions and such- so please, after reading this, face west, turns around three times, spit, curse, and think good thoughts. And if you are a producer looking for that next big thing, send me an email, and we'll talk.

So that's some of what's going on, theatre wise. As for politics, I still think the far right is out of it's mind. Seriously. The Tea Party people, and followers of Rush and Glenn- I think they are collectively insane. Something about the whole things makes me think of the Brown shirts and the SS in Nazi Germany. See, at first- and I could be remembering my history all wrong- the Nazi's were this group of unhappy, conservative nationalists who blamed the commies and lefties for their ills. Some said they were racist morons. As they grew in power, they were mostly Brown Shirts, or SA. These were the equivalent of moderate conservatives, and I bet some of them said "Well, I don't know about the whole Jew things, but I do think we need to take our country back." After awhile, a more hardline group formed. The SS. These were the super far right crazies, and they eventually took out the leadership of the SA. And by took out I mean killed. No doubt it's my overactive imagination.

Okay- now I have to walk the dog. So I might write more tomorrow, or in a month, or a year. In the mean time, I wish you all well.