The other day I signed up for a Lifetime Membership for a Meditation App. It seemed like a no-brainer, until I heard myself think, “Wait a minute – how long would I have to live to make this lifetime membership worthwhile?” A quick calculation told me I would have to live for three more years. That sounded doable. But what in the Sam Hill am I doing thinking thoughts like THAT?
Actors know that a world with no stories would go wobbling off into the Universe and burn to a crisp or freeze over until it was colder than the heart of a certain Supreme Court Justice.
In addition to being King’s birthday, this year January 15th marked the closing date for SEVEN Broadway shows. Four of those shows feature black casts: “Death of a Salesman,” “A Strange Loop,” “Topdog/Underdog,” and “Ohio State Murders.” A fifth, “The Piano Lesson,” will close in two weeks.
When you are deep into experiencing your own stupid – stupid is not funny. Like the 15 minutes I spent the other day looking for my keys. I could feel the spirits hanging around laughing as my anxiety started to spike. Seriously. They thought it was a laugh riot.
I like when the dark comes on and says, “Slow down. You just put in a full day and worked your butt off, so put up your feet and have a cocktail or three. Press the Pause Button for God’s sake. Light a candle and contemplate another day’s adventure. Hush.”