cityboy (but not his money)...

is on a roll today---first day off from Friends since November 6th (a long time)---but in the last hour have donated some money to Johns Hopkins (where I went to college) and bought a ticket to Jesus Hopped the A Train at Signature, tomorrow evening. Glad about the latter---have wanted to see the play, and getting a ticket on TDF makes it reasonable. So far only half a day scheduled at Friends for tomorrow, so should be rested for the play.
About Hopkins, every year I receive a call from an undergraduate (usually a freshman) asking for a donation. This year's freshman was named Bentley---we had a nice conversation---I asked a lot of questions, and I ended up giving the university $25.00. Interesting, many years later, Hopkins remains a strong part of my life narrative--the place that allowed me to feel I could "make it" in theater. If that exactly did not happen, I am still able to put that year---my last year as an undergraduate---in perspective. Yes, it was an amazing year---I was President of the Barnstomers---at that time the only performing theater group on the campus---at least the only undergraduate one. As President, I implemented an extended program, adding two more full productions and two evenings of one act plays in collaboration with the drama group, Masks and Faces, of Goucher. Lots of feelings from that time---a sense of strength and uniqueness  that I never expected as a Freshman, but also a sense of being overwhelmed by all the praise and already at a young age, being at "the top". But it happened, cityboy, and is part of your past, even if it does not play a great role in your life at this moment.
  Some reports: Saturday night, after some deliberation about choices, opted for the film Ladybird at the Angelica. Unlike most people I have spoken to or read, I found it kind of empty and self important. The script is "passable"; the camera work ordinary---yes, there is some interest in this senior in high school trying to find herself, and separate herself from a domineering, overfeeling mother, but ultimately "so what"? She gets what she wants---an acceptance from Barnard, and after all, she becomes the star she is now. Is that important? Towards the end, I felt like yelling at the screen: "All right, grow up and become famous, already!"  Really surprised at how ordinary the movie seemed to me. How does it merit such praise? Well, reviewers are strange.
  Sunday, spent the first part of the afternoon at Cobra, watching the Jets-Panthers game. Had some good conversations with two people---one, an aspiring actor and film maker, and two, my friend Paul, whom I have known through Cobra for about three years now, and who is a regular there. Just some good back and forth banter as the game came to a close. Will I return there next Sunday? Not sure---the only game to watch is not that interesting, but if not there---where?  Sunday, as long as there is no protest activity, are still kind of vague to me in terms or organizing. Did not stop off at South Fourth afterwards, as it was cold, and I was underdressed, but simply returned home and went to bed, awakened by a text from Kristen, head of the history department at Friends, that I was needed the next day.
  Today, a kind of freedom, maybe will visit La Flaca---I really owe my friend Bobby, the owner, a visit--or maybe some other "Saloon".  Three more days at Friends, but will report soon.