WE CAN DO THIS, BUT WE'VE GOT TO BELIEVE, BE STRONG, AND NEVER GIVE UP

The news this past week have been pretty damn awesome. And pretty damn awful. Two vaccines. A light at the end of the tunnel. But the tunnel is full of danger, and not all of us will make it to the end. Thanksgiving is almost here. But we can't spend it with all the folks we'd like to spend it with. The stock market is up, but so are all of our bills. 

I do think we are near the end. It will be an horrific winter, and people we know will get sick. We ourselves might get sick. Some of us will die. 

And I wish I could sugar coat that. Say that no more deaths will occur that are way too early. That nobody will have long term health problems due to this virus. 

I also wish I could fly.

Maybe I can. But not in the way most people mean when they say they wish they could fly. 

I can fly when I listen to music. When I talk with my friends. When I make my wife laugh at something goofy I've done. When I write something that makes people cry. 

That's a super power, to be sure. 

But we got serious issues going on in the country and we have to remember, it ain't over yet, The Thin Man hasn't sung. 

Put it another way: We still don't tug on Superman's cape, spit into the wind, pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger, and you don't mess around with a global pandemic and pretend it's a hoax or overblown or not wear a mask.

We can do this. 

But it will take all of us. We need to figure out how to function in a divided nation. We need to get another stimulus package passed, immediately. If we have lame duck senators, we have to call them and remind them they are still in office until January, and have a responsibility to their electorate. We have to call our relatives who are freaking out and give them comfort and hope. We have to support local businesses anyway we can. 

We have to stop complaining so much about how Zoom sucks. 

I think we all know how it sucks. 

We need to take more walks in forests and parks. 

We need to listen to more music.

We need to read more books, recite more poetry to strangers, and howl at the moon.

And what the hell happened to the nightly howls? When and why did that stop? 

And what did we replace it with? 

I think, tonight, I'm going to howl again.

For those who have passed. For those who are suffering. For those who are afraid of what's still to come. For those who have lost their jobs. For those who are late on the rent. 

For my friends, family, and neighbors.

For all of us.

We can do this.

And we will.

Here's a song. It's Like a Song by U2.

IF EVER THERE WAS A TIME

Another weird theatre dream last night. I was in an immersive show, some sort of slapsticky comedy like Kaufman & Hart meets Neil Simon, set in a suburban home. In between acts, my character, the cranky father of the house, ties up some burglar, so that the second act opens with mayhem. As we are doing the show, in the intermission, we realize we don't have the right rope for the bit, and start to panic. The lights come up, or rather the act begins as we let the audience walk into the room of the house that this act takes place in, and improv. Wing it, as they say. Make shit up. And somehow, it goes ok, the audience loves it, and we all know the show will live another day. After the performance, I walk to my agent's office. In this dream, I have an agent, and he lives in a city that is a mix of Denver and NYC, and he is former Denver Post theatre critic John Moore. I go there because I have decided it is high time I got more work out in Hollywood. More for my writing than my acting, but in the dream those two aspects of my career are as blended as Denver and NYC. When I get to the office, I realize it is up to me, and no one else, what happens. So I hop a bus and head home.

So.

It's Monday. Todays events include cleaning out a closet, another round of Dungeons and Dragons- which we started playing yesterday and was so fun. I had forgotten just how much fun it was to play. I had a game that went on most of my high school years, and what I had forgotten was how much it forces you to interact, to make stuff up, to imagine. And to laugh. A lot. Going to read more books again today. Did that yesterday, and it was so relaxing and inspiring and invigorating. I read a short story and a chapter of McKee's Story. Not reading something on my phone or computer was much more relaxing as I didn't have those little pop up notifications telling me to break my concentration and look at yet another headline about what the President said or how many more people are sick or whatever else. For me, being able to go to another world with no distractions while awake is vital. It gives me super powers. So more reading. Also, have to talk with folks up in Superior about how to figure out things for classes and our production of School of Rock. Or course, all up in the air, but must be done. There are possibilities. Yesterday, I did a large Zoom chat with the cast of Sweeney Todd from StageDoor up in Conifer. We were set to open in a few weeks, but had to postpone. We all talked for an hour, and it was needed. Human connection is always possible, and it feels like, at least for me, we are figuring out how to do that in our quasi-social-distancing-world. After the chat, we decided we should all re-enact scenes from the show at home with our pets and post them. So keep an eye out for me and Padfoot, my one of a kind dog, doing a scene from Sweeney Tood soon. Also plan on doing some Deepak Chopra thing a friend sent us. Why not? Seems like if ever there was a time for meditation, it's now.

In fact, it seems like there are lots of things that "if ever there was a time" covers. Calling old friends. Finishing that book. Writing that script. Singing that song. Tending to your garden. So often, we pretend we are immortal and have all the time in the world. And no doubt, after the Duration, we will go back to some of that. But not me. Not now.

Ok, must go decide if Padfoot or I will be Mrs. Lovett. Or Lisa.