Ten Minutes

It did not look good. The play that Mouse directed this quarter was in performance this afternoon and just when we were about to leave for Kalamazoo this morning, the sky started to pelt ice at us. *Lots* of it, not just the occasional pellet or two. I thought we were crazy to even go over there and rather vociferously expressed that sentiment but I did still get in the vee-hickle. Slush and water and ice flung various vee-hickles into the ditches and median until we got past Jackson and then, mercifully, it was just wet. Very wet but not icy. On the way home, things were mostly just wet and sloppy. That is, until we hit the Grass Lake area and it was so dark I actually entertained a fleeting thought that the world might be ending. There was a also pervasive smell of smoke in the air, we both noticed it. What was it? It wasn’t our vee-hickle and it was almost wood-smoky. I spotted a fire engine slowly making its way along the ice covered surface road adjacent to the freeway and then a structure completely engulfed in flames. We couldn’t tell what it was. The GG guessed possibly a McMansion-style home. Anyway, back to *our* home. Tired and too much caffeine today. Wish I had one o’ them thar fake logs to burn tonight. Grocery list.

The plays were really fun though! There were seven ten-minute student-written plays, each directed by a student, a different student than who wrote the play. I could identify with the play Mouse directed, Mrs. Ballen’s Cardboard Box. It was about a family who took a small boat, prob’ly a pontoon boat judging by the coolers on board, out onto some body of water to dispatch someone’s ashes. Hmmm, been there done that! I bet our little kayak adventure to dump some of Jim’s ashes out by the Pickle Finger would make a good play. Complete with a close encounter with a lake freighter, the St. Clair, to be specific. In hindsight, I bet my bro’ had a hand in that adventure. A year later when we had more ashes to deploy, The Commander decreed that there would be no further ash-dumping expotitions to the Pickle Finger. A much earlier episode to scatter Duke’s ashes might also provide some play-writing material. I wasn’t present on that one but, from what I’ve heard, it involved a canoe and some of Gitchee Gumee’s best breakers. And an apparent intervention by Duke, who always loved a good water adventure, particularly when it was happening to someone else! I’ll have to blahg some of that stuff some day.

All in all, today was a fun day. Ten-minute plays are just perfect for my attention span. I have never been that good at sitting in a dark theatre with nothing to keep my hands/brain busy. The Winter’s Tale was probably the worst. Three dern hours and my older daughter had a leading role so I had to watch it. This stuff always sounds strange to those who know that I spent about a gazillion years working for/with a theatre guild. “But *how* could you be involved with “the theatah” if you don’t like to watch plays?” In those days, I was always on the move. Backstage laughing with Madame Producer or working the box office or schmoozing with the parents, etc. I’d sneak into the back of the theatre and watch my kids do their parts.

Liz, I forgot to tell you on the phone that I *did* get flowers for Mouse. And, y’all, if you want to read about a truly successful day, one in a million style, check out Karen’s blahg for yesterday. Nice to reconnect with my bro’s old and dear friend Matt and his wife.

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