A FINE MARCH HARE MADNESS

I was once the March Hare. I had tea parties with my brother, the Mad Hatter. This is my month. Truly the month for Madness. Just ask the NCAA. I get my second vaccine shot this month. I get to rehearse two shows and do some pre-production for a show that is coming back online after being banished by COVID. And I get to watch the finale of WandaVision. 

Life is good.

Yes, it is also all too short, at times confusing, full of sorrow and anger and dreams unfulfilled. But still, I find it amazing to be alive. I love it. I always have, and suppose I always will. 

Maybe I'm the village idiot, happily skipping along in blissful ignorance. But ignorant of what, I know not. I've had my share of death and fear and loathing. Of friends and family acting insane in the face of science and reason. I was in NYC for 9/11, the Bay Area for the big earthquake of 1989, lost people I love, been broke as can be, lost races, been rejected by what at times feels like every agency in both LA and NYC. 

In short, I've seen my share of shit. As have we all this past year.

And yet, I still love being alive. Last night I was doing the dishes after making a triumphant batch of Mac-n-Chees with chorizo and a mix of cheddar and gouda that will be spoken of long after I shuffle off this mortal coil (if I do ever do that. I often think I am immortal). As I washed, I turned on the Stone and dance about the kitchen. Just because. 

I am so lucky. I think a lot of us here in the USA are lucky. There are so many places that have a rougher quality of life. I mean, how many places can you live where not being able to get a hair cut is grounds for freaking out? I would have thought that this last year would give us all perspective, and appreciation for all the good things we have. And maybe it has. I hope to find out soon. 

I am sure the lessons of this disease will continue for many years. Some will be pleasant. Some not so much. 

Still awesome to be alive. 

So. I the midst of all this bliss, my dog Padfoot is getting old. Very. I hate it. He is having pains in his joints, and things like climbing the stairs have become next to impossible. Sometimes, out of the blue, he gives a little squeal of pain. When I say I hate this, I mean I fucking hate it with all my being. I love my dog so much. He is the weirdest, best dog in the world. I want him to be young and healthy forever. To eat more of my wife's shoes. To get out and make me spend hours looking for him. 

I want him to live forever. 

Is that too much to ask? I suppose so. I've had some of the best dogs ever. I think we all have, because each dog is the best dog ever. There is solace in knowing that he will one day get to meet my first dog, Gigi. And I am sure they will get along and tell each other stories about life with me. So that's cool.

But the house will be so quiet when he goes. So unbearably clean. 

But he ain't gone yet. There are still hugs to give, ears to scratch. Love to share.

And life is still beautiful, even with it's stupid brevity.

Here's a song. It's Marching On by The Alarm. Lots of big hair in this video. Enjoy.

https://youtu.be/vxkhr76SydA

SNOW DAY, YEAR, AND LIFE

It's a snow day here in Colorado. Everything is shut down or slowed down and all of it is different. We can't navigate our lives as easily. Some of us are sleeping in. Some of us are up but don't know what to do with ourselves. Of course, there are always a few who pretend it's just another day, and trudge along through the drifts as if they don't exist. I watch them from my window and can't decide if they are crazy or stupid or from another planet. When I let my dog out back this morning, he made it all of three feet out before giving up.

It's a snow day. It's been a snow day for over a year, hasn't it?

And what made this one feel just like the past year is that somehow I didn't texted by my school to tell me it was closed today, so I got up at 6 am as usual, put on the coffee, put the dog out, listened to the morning flash briefing on my Alexa, and fully woke up. I think sometimes, when you wake up, you have this little window of time when you can decide to go back to sleep and you do, no harm no foul. But for me, once I've actually made a full French press of coffee, heard the weather report, and read at least part of an article on the NY Times app, there is no going back to sleep. So here I am. My wife and I work at the same school, and when I brought up the coffee, she was still sleeping. I nudged her awake, she told me to look at her phone. And there was the text she had gotten over an hour before, saying our school was closed today. Somehow, this miscommunication from a usually reliable source seems to fit in with the world we have been living in for over a year.

It's a snow year. But at least it does feel like the ice is melting, the Spring is coming, and things are getting better, albeit at a glacial pace. Gone is the sense of dread every time I see a headline that has the words "the White House" in them. It is of course still awful. Over 500,000 dead in America alone. Over 2.4 million worldwide. Or, to let the numbers look accurate, 2,400,000. I can't really wrap my head around numbers that large. I try to imagine how many people that is, how to make the number real. And I can't. It's like contemplating infinity. It just makes no sense to me. 

So I'm still in my PJs, drinking coffee, listening to a little classical mix in the den, shaking the cobwebs from my head as best I can, and wondering what comes next. I've got some writing to catch up on, a few screenplays and a new musical. I have a call I have to make about the sale of my mom's house out in California. And there are always plenty of projects to do around the house. But there are also tons of shows I've been wandering through on all those damn streaming services. Doom Patrol. WandaVision. Modern Family. Derry Girls. Not to mention my ever growing stack of books, some half read, some untouched. It's like the house is full of items and ideas in semi-suspended animation. 

Looks like we got over eight inches last night. I drove down from the mountains, where we were having a socially distanced rehearsal for a high school musical. The road was very twisty, covered in ice and snow, and it was coming down so hard and fast that it looked like when they go to hyper space in Star Wars. What usually takes half and hour took over an hour and a half. My car is a little Hyundai. No AWD or 4WD. The car slid more than once. And I passed several accidents. It was a little nerve wracking. But I made it. 

Maybe that's the metaphor I'm looking for this morning in regards to the snow and this past year. It's been terrifying, tedious, and frustrating, but for those of us still alive, we made it. We're tired, unsure of what today will bring, and in need of coffee. But we made it. 

Yay.

Here's a song. It's Snow Days, by Trip Shakespeare. Enjoy.

DFWTNOM IS COMING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

It's Monday morning, cold as can be here in Denver, like in the teens cold, and I've already taken a long walk, made a post office run, and now am back in the joyously heated house, listening to the first stab at a podcast I am working on with my friend Craig Nobbs tentatively titled DFWTNOM. 

I talk a lot. 

The format we are going for is a back and forth conversation between two friends who are both writers discussing current events, projects, shows we like, and so on. I think it works for our particular personalities, and am excited about where it will go. But as I listen to myself, I am astounded at how much I can go on about things. And how poor a listener I can be. No doubt part of this is due to me wanting to do well, to cover my half of the lifting for the podcast, to come off as someone worth listening to for a half hour or so.

But holy shit, do I go on. 

Part of that is good, I think. I have a rather stream-of-consciousness approach to life, and to conversation, and I think/hope that gives what I say a veracity and specificity. But at the same time, I think maybe I could and should edit myself a bit more. 

So look for DFWTNOM wherever you download podcasts soon.

Also, the Super Bowl kind of sucked.

I think it is so long and so bloated and so desperate to feel like it used to but hasn't in a long time. Each year, the half time show seems to get longer and more convoluted. More determined to be that much bigger than the previous year. Each year, the commercials get a little more obnoxious. Not that there weren't some cool things, some moments that really were entertaining and possibly up lifting. But a lot of it felt tired. 

And I think we have all felt tired enough of late.

Maybe my priorities have just changed from the last year. Maybe I don't really cared as much about the NFL as I used to. Maybe I am hungry for more satisfying material.

I've started watching more movies again. This past week end I watch The Trial of the Chicago 7 and also Ma Rainey's Black Bottom.

Both films were awesome, exciting, thought provoking, emotionally fulfilling, and cool. They fed my soul, and I dug that.

More soul food, less junk food please. More stories that help me interact with the world, less stories that are designed to placate me. 

More.

Here's a song. It's Talk, Talk, by Talk Talk. Enjoy. And don't forget: DFWTNOM.

WAITING FOR THE LET GO ON THE RAZOR'S EDGE

And just like that, the first Friday of February 2021 is here. I keep writing 2020 on things. This happens every year around this time, but I seem to be doing it a little more. I think we are all still trying to shake off the past year. And with good reason. What a long, strange, scary, bizarre, year. And did I mention long? Sometimes I forget that Trump is no longer President. Not for very long, just a moment or two. It just seemed like we were going to be stuck with his madness forever and ever. Happily, this is not the case. 

I think we've all gotten used to Covid world. To social distancing and masks and thousands dead every day. Which freaks me out a little. Every day, around three thousand Americans die. And thousands more across the globe pass. All from Covid. And this has become routine. We barely blink an eye. Just another day. It's like a curse and a blessing at the same time. Horrific that we can put up with and endure these times. Heroic that we can keep going at times like these. It makes me think of that line about how life is like a razor's edge we walk upon. I used to find that saying kind of lame. Like "yeah, there's good and bad in the world. I get it. Move on." 

That was long ago, when I was young and stupid. Before life began it's ritual of kicking the shit out of me on a regular basis with just enough variation in its timing that every new tragedy is a surprise, something unexpected that drops out of the blue like a dinosaur killing meteor. 

Maybe we don't balance on that razor's edge. Maybe we can't fall to one side or the other. Maybe we endure because we are just built that way. Maybe we have to see the good and bad, the wondrous and the woeful in equal measure, because that is simply the world we live in. Sure, we can try to pretend it's all great, or all gross. But I think most of us know that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. 

It is still an incredible universe.

There is music, and laughter, and tears of joy, rage, and. sorrow that give us comfort. 

There is love. And that makes all the difference.

I was teaching a short unit on Shakespeare this past week. We went over all the plays and what the basic plots were. Revenge came up a lot. And the class, middle schoolers, got into a conversation about revenge, if it is a good idea, if it ever really brings satisfaction or joy. It certainly doesn't in Shakespeare. And I've never had a time where carrying a grudge, seeking retribution, getting even, ever worked out well. 

Maybe it does for some folks. I've just never seen that. I've seen anger twist people's souls, filling them with toxins that cloud their judgement and seem to make them miserable and lonely. Seen plenty of that. 

Not that I think we should let those who are acting cruelly or with malice or doing something that hurts others or themselves continue with those destructive ways.

We just need to let go of anger and resentment. Process it, acknowledge it, and move on. 

That's been the only thing that works for me. Forgive, accept, move on. 

Right now, there are a lot of people in this country who are, I believe, behaving badly. I would like them to stop. I don't let them do so when I'm around, if I can help it. I don't wish them ill. I don't want them to be miserable or kicked in the nuts or ridiculed. I want them to stop hurting my friends, families, and themselves. I want them to let go of what seems like a lot of anger and grief and fear. 

If they can't, we need to deal with them clearly, strongly, and without malice. 

Easy to say, hard to do. I often post about the morons, the whackos, the greedy and the willfully ignorant. I probably shouldn't. It prolongs the anger I feel. That is one of my many faults. But I do try and let it go before I go to sleep. I try to treat others with respect while at the same time calling out lies and madness. 

It's rough. A razor's edge. 

Here's a song. It's Waiting for the Let Go by Elle King. Enjoy. 

THE YEAR OF THINKING MAGICALLY

It was Groundhog Day yesterday. I am told it was snowing a lot in Pennsylvania where Punxsutawney Phil does his thing. I always thought it was some remnant from native culture, but according the to internet, which these days doesn't mean a lot, it is an old Christian thing from Germany. Which is kind of weird. Predicting weather from animals just seems so pagan to me. So fun. I don't associate a lot of fun pastimes with ancient Christianity during the Dark Ages.

But I digress.

It was snowing. Hard. And as such, the big rodent stayed in its hole, signifying more winter. Or maybe more social distancing. Or more crazy folks saying there are Jewish space lasers starting forest fires. 

Any and all of those sound about right to me.

But I am a semi-magic thinker. I believe in Bigfoot and UFOs and ghosts. 

Don't get me wrong. I also dig science, know the world is a globe, and am certain there is no cabal of Satan worshipping baby killing elites out there.

When magical thinking goes becomes a format for justifying your world views, its time to give it up. Any belief system that ignores the clear reasons for things like economic inequality and points folks towards made up Boogie Men and Boogie Women is, it seems to me, obvious manipulations of the masses for political gain. 

And that sucks.

Magic thinking should be something fun to do when you're out in the woods and think you heard a Sasquatch, not a reason to storm the Capitol and kill someone with a fire extinguisher.

I wonder if those folks who think there are devil worshipping baby eaters are just finding a way to redirect their unexpressed and sublimated empathy for all the suffering children in the world who are actually in distress due to policies and corporations they have endorsed and supported? 

I hope so. I would humanize them a bit.

So yeah, I believe there will be more of this Winter of Our Discontent. 

But it will pass. I think this summer will be glorious. I think most of us have had enough of the fear and loathing and anger and dismay that have run rampant across the globe. We may have to hunker down for six more weeks. We may have to endure more feckless memes about Sleepy Joe and the Squad and who knows what else. We will probably have to read more about Bobert and Greene and the Orange One himself. 

But I think something has changed inside of us this winter. I think our souls have been tempered and strengthened. 

What has changed will reveal itself in good time.

I can't wait.

Until then, I will be in my own little hole with Phil, Sasquatch, Yeti, and Nessie.

Here's a song. It's Office of Love by Caamp. (yes, it's spelled with two "a"s. And it's groovy)

OUR BACK PAGES

We all have got a lot of work to do. Rebuilding. Reworking. Rethinking. This past year has been insane, scary, freakish, eternal, revelatory in ways sometimes joyous and other times dismaying. Our world has changed. My world, your world, their world, our world. It is a small world, after all, and it is full of mischief, madness, and magic. As I begin to consider the world post Covid, I am thrilled and a bit terrified. What will be the same? What will be different? How have I changed? As a writer, I am more than a little curious to see how all of this past year will inform our literature, our art, our films and tv series and plays and musicals. How it will affect our relationships with each other. Our sense of mortality. Of science. Of politics. Of what is truly worthwhile and what is just a waste of our very limited time on this great spinning orb flying through space at great velocity.

I think our whole financial system, healthcare system, news industry, the arts- all of the systems we have had in place- have been held up to the sun for further inspection. And I think we need to fix a lot of it. I think the shortcomings of American capitalism were made pretty clear. I think Andrew Yang's idea of universal income, which came off as quaint and a bit nutty, now seems like a good idea. I think universal healthcare is something we have to have, right now and forever. I think a system that had so very many billionaires get richer during a global pandemic is a system that needs to be thrown out or reconfigured. 

Maybe it's time for our whole economic way of thinking to go the way of the DoDo. I've said it before, but I always loved how in the Star Trek Universe, they figured out that money was not a good thing, hindered us as a species, and had to go. 

As for the politics of this last year, I think a lot of people let their uglier, more selfish side come out, like a army of Mister and Mrs. Hydes, running amok, acting like spoiled violent children with no regard for anyone or anything. I don't know how that will all turn out, but I have several friends who I now think of differently. Sad but true. Some of the stupid and cruel shit that's been done this past year will be hard to get over and to forgive. Especially when most of those folks are still acting out. I had hoped after the sacking of the Capitol that there would be a moment of self reflection. A moment where everyone woke up and put aside their childish ways.

Then again, that's sort of like hoping after the Tate-LaBianca murders that the Manson Family woke up an said "Charlie was wrong! We shouldn't do this kind of thing".

So yeah, the world got a bit more messed up.

But while some chose a dark path, others stood up to the challenge, and wowed us all with kindness and courage and determination. Some friends became heroes.

In a way, it was like this past year required everyone to take a stand, make a choice on how they interact with the world.

As for me, I think the main change is a lack of ability to put up with bullshit. Or as much as I used to. I think we all need to be tolerant, kind, and open to other people's ideas. I still think that. But some ideas are just fucked up and stupid. Pretty much any idea that is cool with endangering others is out. Same with any idea that endorses political violence. Or denial of science..

Also, I need to write more. And keep on doing this blog. And spend more time with friends and family. 

I really appreciate time with people more. 

I can't go to a concert. And a movie. And a play. To teach a class without having to wear a mask. 

But before that can happen, there is work to be done, on a global, national, state, city, and personal level. 

Wow. Sort of pontificating today. Ah well. 

Here's a song. It's My Back Pages with an all star band.

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WHEN BEING STRONG WITH THE FORCE ISN'T ENOUGH

So one of the things I get to do in this life is teach children. Mostly theatre, but also speech and debate these days. I love it. There is something really nice about hanging out with kids and trying to help them figure out this world we all share. And I seem to be good at it. I think maybe I get that from my mother, who was an amazing teacher for elementary students. She had this way of connecting with and inspiring her students that was magic. I don't know how you can teach people to do what she did. I think there are of course many excellent ideas about teaching, courses to take on the basics. But there is also that X factor that you either have or do not have.

 It's sort of like having the Force be strong with you.

I think I got a little bit of that from her. 

So yesterday, it was the final day of a section on speech and debate I was doing with this one class. the section consisted of doing a daily salutation to each other, where each kid got up in front of the class, greeted everyone, said their name, and shared a quote. The quote could be anything they wanted, a song lyric, a line from a movie, something they overheard, and so on. Often, is the quote was interesting (and they almost always were) we'd discuss the meaning, if they believed the quote, and so on. Then we'd move on to working on short speeches, and then group debate.

It's a really fun unit.

The group debates this time were Netflix vs. Prime Video; and the pros and cons of having a dog.  We had done the individual speeches last week, and this day was all about the debates. We would do our daily salutation, then prep for the debate, and see what happened. 

When I got to class, one of the brightest of this group was sitting apart from the group, looking decidedly sad. One of her friends was sitting with her, trying in vain to cheer her up. I let her skip her quote, as it was pretty clear she was truly upset. This kid was an excellent speaker, very smart, and had been looking forward to speaking on behalf of the upside of having a dog. She was a proud dog lover, and told me every class a bit about her dog, how fantastic he was, how funny, how awesome.

So as the kids began prep for the debate, I walked over and asked her if everything was ok.

She stoically shook her head and handed me a note.

It read "I can't talk today. My dog died."

Sometimes, even when the Force is strong with you, there is nothing you can do to take away the pain in this world. 

I told here the things you tell people when they lose someone they love. How lucky her dog was to have her in his life. How it wasn't fair. How I wished I could make it not be so. How I was sure her dog was playing in a grand field, happy and free, and would always watch over her. 

I tried to be honest and supportive. I told her she could skip the debate, sit in another room, do whatever she wanted. She didn't speak in the debate, but she bravely stayed in the classroom. And somehow, managed to smile once or twice.

I think we all need to be like that. Things are hard right now. Terribly hard. There is so much sorrow and anger and madness running rampant. So much anxiety. 

We need to let our sadness out. Let each other know how we feel, in whatever way we can. And we need to be brave, and love each other.

May the Force Be with Us. Everyone.

Here's a song. It's Interstellar Love by The Avalanches.