Recruiting Post

As sometimes it may happen (or does happen, no "may" about it) a post was sent to Savoynet* attempting to recruit men for someone's local G&S production. As I have pointed out previously in this space, community theater is a great way for men to meet women* and thus I was well pleased with the following correspondence:

John Lanigan-O'Keeffe suggested the following:

Dear Rob,

Put this ad in your local paper or in The Independent lonely hearts and definitely in your programme for every production.

Men! Do you want to meet women?
Join your local operatic society.

There are twice as many girls as guys.

Half the guys are gay.

Half the guys are married.

There are all these women and just you.

Listen to the Voice of Personal Experience:- "I and several others I could name solved their search for love by joining the men's chorus. I met my first girlfriend in Orpheus in the Underworld, my late wife through Utopia, Ltd and my fiancee in Eugene Onegin. In rehearsals and performance, you see the ladies warts and all, and choose the best. You see who's selfish, who's considerate, who laughs at frustration and who blames the nearest person, who listens and who's a compulsive talker, who has a sense of humour and who is up themself. I observed for several weeks and chose the best to be my onstage partner. Soon she was my life partner. Men, don't give up. Reach for that phone and join St Albans Operatic Society today!"

Which sparked this post from Clifton Coles:

Ahem!

Men! Do you want to meet men?

Join your local operatic society.

Two-thirds of the guys are gay.

One-third of the guys are married.

Not all of the married guys are straight.

All of the women are married.

All of the women are gay-friendly.

Some of the women have gay husbands.

Drinks every Friday after rehearsals.

Testimonials: "I met my first husband and the love of my life by joining the men's chorus. I met my second husband and the love of my life building the set for the show. I met my present husband and the love of my life when he was accompanying rehearsals for the show on the piano." "I was third peer on the right, baritone. He was fifth peer on the right, tenor. I made sure he was at my elbow at 'though our heart she's badly bruising' and we've been inseparable ever since."

Men, don't give up! Put that cocktail down, reach for the phone, and call the State-Operated Dramatics Operatics Musics. I'll readily bet it, you'll never regret it!

****

In loving jest,

Uncle C
(perceptively intense and consummately utter)

If enough groups follow these models, we should have no further trouble maintaining the strength.

*Savoynet is the international e-mail discussion list for G&S anoraks fans to which I have cheerfully subscribed for a dozen-ish years.

Because it's raining

"[It] refers to Meher Baba's one time comment that rain was a blessing from God; that thunder was God's Voice." Those nice strangers on Wikipedia quoting Mr. Townshend.

Love Reign O'er Me - The Who (Pete Townshend)

Only love
Can make it rain
The way the beach is kissed by the sea
Only love
Can make it rain
Like the sweat of lovers
Laying in the fields.

Love, Reign o'er me
Love, Reign o'er me, rain on me

Only love
Can bring the rain
That makes you yearn to the sky
Only love
Can bring the rain
That falls like tears from on high

Love Reign O'er me

On the dry and dusty road
The nights we spend apart alone
I need to get back home to cool cool rain
I can't sleep and I lay and I think
The night is hot and black as ink
Oh God, I need a drink of cool cool rain

Like we didn't suspect as much

From "A Real Fairy Tale," a preview article about a production of the Fraser Valley G&S Society's Iolanthe in the BC Local News:

After so many happy experiences working together they’ve honed their communication to a virtually psychic level, they said, which may explain why [director Rick] Harmon is now willing, with [choreographer Carol] Seitz’s permission, to divulge one of their long-standing verbal secret codes (former cast members beware).

“Whenever we used to say ‘It’s wonderful, I love it!’ that meant ‘It needs to be fixed right now’ “ he chuckled.

Well, here's the problem

According to Chris Rock in a performance of his that I ran across on the hotel cable:

Women need food, water, and compliments. And the occasional pair of shoes.

Men want food, sex, and silence.

Scary, scary fact of the day

I heard on Morning Edition (or the Marketplace morning report...) that half of Americans have less than $50K in retirement savings.* A few years ago I read that the average 40-year-old woman has about $7K in retirement savings.

Pause for Implication Percolation.

I think I'll start investing in companies that make cheap cat food.


*I have more than that because I believe in my 401(k) possibly more than I believe in the three paragraphs of the Nicene Creed.

Real Friends

How to tell real friends from merely friendly acquaintances:

When you do something dumb, your real friends will never let you forget it. Sort of like my belief that if you slip and fall on your butt the latter will rush over to help you up, but the former will point and laugh first.

Sucking up

How to congratuate the person who will directing a show you'd like to be in. Send the followng e-mail. Try to use a sincere-looking font.

My, don't you look handsome. Nice haircut. Have you been working out?

But isn't this against everything they stand for?

Well, yes. But sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

- So first there was Google - clean white page with a catchy logo;
- Then there was Google with the special logos for special days;
- Then there was iGoogle where you could crap up the clean white page with widgets and gadgets and stuff. (Mine has the weather and my reader and a few other things. I am weak.)
- Then there was iGoogle with "artist themes" where you could add a picture to the top of the formerly clean white page. I largely ignored that option because Google is supposed to be different. It's the clean white page! Or the clean white page with some stuff on it! But not a lot! Just some! Some useful stuff! But not a lot!

But. Today while trolling through the artist themes just for fun and thinking the title of this post, I found that one of the themes is by Dale Chihuly.

I like art. Art is nice. I love glass art. I love it more than chocolate. And Dale Chihuly was the first "glass artist" with whose work I became familiar. I usually have to be pried away from exhibits of his work.*

And so, / although / I wish to go, / and greatly pine / to brightly shine.... (oops, sorry, G&S distraction.) Ahem. And so, although I do believe it's against all that the clean white page stands for, I have added the Chihuly theme to my iGoogle page. It makes me shiver with pleasure to look at it. And it'll update during the day showing me new and different pictures of Chihuly pieces. It's too much happiness!

And - in the back - behind the widgets and the gadgets and the artist's theme - somewhere back there - is the Clean White Page.


*And, yes, of course other glass artists have told me that the man in person is - how shall I put this? - a butthead. Suffers from severe cranial-rectal inversion.** I don't care. It's not like I spend any time with him. I just love his work.

**Unless Dale Chihuly reads this blog***, in which case, no one ever said that to me and are you free for coffee or drinks or something sometime?

*** Yeah, like that happens. Whatever.

The upside to insomnia

I get lots of reading done in the middle of the night.

Other than that, it's not so great. Today is Thursday and the fact that I can tell you that is kind of surprising as my sleep schedule for the week has looked like this:

Monday night - Got to sleep by midnight. Awake from 4:30 to 6:30.

Tuesday nght - Got to sleep by about 12:20. Awake from 3:30 to 6:30.

Wednesday night - Got to sleep by about 11:30. Awake from 1:30 to 6:00

So that's pretty much it. 13 hours of sleep in the last three nights. And this during a week when I read an article in a back issue of Time telling me that being sleep deprived will make me fat, diabetic, and heart disease prone.

Great.

One I'd definitely take

Back when Bill and Emily were engaged, Ceirdwyn did her valiant, feminist best to convince Emily to keep "own" name rather than take a "man's" name.* At one point, as the discussion was starting to repeat itself (and was heading downhill a bit), I said that I had already given great thought to whether I would change my name if I got married and that I had a two-point list of criteria:

1. Whether or not my husband's name would sound weird with mine, and a surprisingly large number of surnames do sound weird when combined with Leta; and
2. Whether or not my future mother-in-law would have daily conniptions if I didn't take my husband's name.

"Leta," quoth Ceirdwyn repressively, "those are very silly reasons."

Well, yes, but who cares?

I actually rather like my name as it stands because, among other things, it's balanced and symetry is the way things have to be.** My first name is four letters, my middle name - Madeline - is eight, and my last name is four.

But when I saw this article, and specifically this sentence Assistant United States Attorney David Leta is prosecuting the case I saw my destiny. I will marry that man, take his name, and be Leta Leta.*** Look at all the good reasons for doing so:

1. His first name is David, so the transition will be very easy for my friends and family;
2. He's a lawyer and I like most of the lawyers I know. And I have lawyers on both sides of my family;
3. As a couple we would be introduced as Leta and David Leta; and
4. On official paperwork I'd be listed as Leta, Leta Madeline which sounds very poetic.

The downside is that people who have trouble remembering that my name is pronounced Lee-tah, not Let-uh will have the opportunity to mispronounce both my first and last names instead of just my first. Ditto for those who insist on misspelling it.

And true, David Leta and I have never met, he seems to live in Georgia, and for all I know he's aready married or loves reality tv or has some other impediment to our union, but following the example of the Duchess of Plaza-Toro, I should not allow such minor considerations to stand in my way.

And if he won't have me, then perhaps Frank Leta has an eligible son.


*One can - especially if one wishes to wind up Ceirdwyn, which is always fun - point out that Emily's "own" name was also a man's name and that if she changed her name when she married than she was taking the name of a man she had chosen rather than one who was more or less assigned to her.

**You can't chop down the symetry.

*** Or rather Leta Madeline Leta.