I buried probably, like, a million birds as a child.
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I don't know of a southern household that doesn't own a pair of binoculars or have a jar of Blue Plate mayonnaise in the refrigerator. So, this is going to be a disappointing blog, in part, because my house has neither. Ok, well maybe a thimbleful is left of the mayonnaise. Ms. Frankie, the sweetest neighbor I had while growing up, God love her, thought it was because people really liked to look at the birds, that's why they all had binoculars...and that anything other than Blue Plate was sacrilege. She had a pair, herself, but they sat on the mantle after her husband died and...
Rasputin and the Fateful Finger Day
I: Confession I don't have many great qualities, I'd imagine (for instance, I find it increasingly difficult to even get a date, so I'm tempted to say that I must be lacking some crucial quality - unfortunately, it's a temptation I never give into. I know better). What I do have, and consider a good thing to have, is a large, uncontrollably malleable heart. Even if it's quite a fault of mine to have it, a liability. It's still not the worst thing to have. Then, again, I'm also ignorant about a great many things, and most often, after the initial shock of owning so much pathos, I tend to...
Last night, my ankle had an out-of-body experience.
It's a crying shame Shakespeare didn't write a character who had an almost broken, badly sprained ankle. He didn't, did he? I mean, I'm only peripherally familiar with the hunchback of Richard III. (I think it's the III, it's Richard plus some number, that much I know). I still have two more gruelling performances of this play left and last night I...well...I may have compromised my 1000% commitment to my role in this production: I now possess a badly sprained ankle. That's never happened to me before, in my entire acting career. Truth be told, and gladly, I used to have really good balance and coordination....
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