1. Crowd mingling before Friday night's show.
2. Theater owner Debbie Carson working the ticket booth.
3. Theater owner Erik Dahlager and the sound board.
4. A glimpse from the stage. I asked if they had done any theatre. They had not. So I did the first two lines of Shakeseare's Sonnet 23
As an imperfect actor on the stage, who with his fear is put beside his part.
5. Another view of the sound board.
I love the space. Looking forward to The Waybacks tonight (Aug. 5, 2023).
So Doc said to Frederick, "You want to honor my son?"
Fred says “If you’ll do a benefit with your songs.”
And Doc says, “Where do you want this singing done?”
Fred says, “Out near Highway 421.”
Well Mack the singer said to Louie The Strings
“We got a thousand speakers that don’t zing.
Can you tell me how to make them ring?”
Louie The Strings says, “let me think for a minute son.”
And he said, “Yes I think it can be easily done.
Just take them all down to Highway 421.”
Now the fifth daughter on the twelfth night
Told the first father that things weren't right.
“My Hillside seats,” she said, “ have too much height., “
He said, “Come here and let me to fix your plight.
Let me tell the second mother this has been done.”
But the second mother was with the seventh son
And they were both out on Highway 421.
College professor was stressed to the core
Lacked the funding to finish his chores.
So he became a promoter and nearly fell off the floor.
He said I’ve never engaged in this kind of thing before
But yes, “ I think it can be very easily done.
We'll just put some bleachers out in the sun
And have it near Highway 421.”
Ever wondered what is "normal" for Wilkes Community College, as compared to the week most of us see the campus as it is set up for MerleFest?
Driving on U.S. 89 to The Blue Ridge Museum near Galax, VA, just before crossing the border from North Carolina, a traveler passes thru Low Gap.
When I saw the subject of this post, I turned around.
Seems the enterprise leaned a bit heavier on fire than rescue.
Hype can be deceiving.
But in the case of this extraordinary film written and directed bY Martin McDonagh, who created IN BRUGES and THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI, the "buzz" — from my point of view — is well deserved.
I'm a huge fan of Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson and Kerry Condon, and thus perhaps I was predisposed to enjoy their work, which was nothing short of fantastic.
The film was beautifully shot. The plot is quite simple, and in the hands of lesser creative folks, it would have been a mildly disturbing snooze fest.
But that's not the case.
Precision and nuance guided all involved.
It's one of those stories that you keep thinking about it long after you've finished viewing.
Colin Farrell, particularly, disappeared into his character and gave us a remarkable, haunting portrait. One of the very best of excellent performances I've ever seen.
Woke up feeling
So confused.
Wasn’t tired or hungry
or even
feeling used.
But I couldn’t eat.
Nor could I sleep.
After all that’s transpired,
Why am I a live wire?
So I called my doctor
and asked,
“What can it be?
What’s causing
All this fog,
All this misery.”
“Well,” she said,
With the warmest tone.
“For what you’ve got,
I can prescribe
just one remedy.
It’s not a pill
or something you smoke.
It’s pretty simple
You gotta get woke.
And by that.
I mean you gotta vote.”
Eyes open.
Shower.
Shave.
Make an espresso.
Trudge to the porch.
Sit in a favorite chair.
Then, just listen.
The coffee is strong.
One foot taps in time
To nature’s rhythm.
To the east, hints of the sun.
It’s not too warm.
Nor is it cold.
You check the phone for messages.
A long overdue acknowledgement has finally arrived.
Kindness begets kindness.
On this first day,
A simple thank you
Sets the tone.
It might be 24 hours.
It might be a thousand thousand years.
Your first day
in Heaven.
It's no doubt that what we're experiencing is The Summer of Discontent, made possible by a charlatan's coup of a political party in 2015 that has since fallen off its moral cliff. Toss in the long list of enablers — NRA, Rupert Murdoch, Mitch McConnell, Bill Barr, and a throng of elected officials who have chosen the dark path of payoffs, bribes, denial and sheer lunacy.
Trump's Supreme Court picks assured this evil.
Climate change. Human and animal rights. Voting rights. Gun control. And as of today, abortion rights.
Those still sitting on the fence about the direction the far right wing is shoving our country would be well advised to sit up and smell the thorns. Forget the roses. You lost that chance 6 years ago.
Woke up today with this Bob Dylan classic on my mind with the notion of rewriting the various scenes to depict the bullshit that has happened in just the past 18 months.
But honestly, why bother? Dylan's lyrics apply to now as much as they did when the now was 1965.
It's a long song with a LOT of lyrics. A big ask of time.
Just think about the first line and change one word ... hanging to lynching .... and i believe you'll get the gist.
They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row.
Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning,
"You belong to Me I Believe."
And someone says, "You're in the wrong place, my friend
You'd better leave."
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row.
Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortune-telling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row.
Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row.
Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
NOW, he looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
You would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row.
Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They ARE trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on the penny whistle
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row.
Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
In a perfect image of a priest
They are spoon-feeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get outta here if you don't know"
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row.
At midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row.
Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
Everybody's shouting
"Which side are you on?"
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row.
Yes, I received your letter yesterday
About the time the door knob broke
When you asked me how I was doing
Or was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row.
i played a thriller author who wrote grisly stories and committed murder to find his muse for the telling.
Below are excerpts from a letter sent by producer/writer/director Quis Wallace.
Hello Everyone!
Such a great pleasure to work with Daniel Wilson as Tom Joad and have our work be directed by Melanie Simmons.
