Theatre Vertigo: The Velvet Sky

Kelly and I took in a showing of Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa's The Velvet Sky, a one-act where a mother has stayed awake for thirteen long years.  Her husband steals her son away one night and she must pursue them. All three family members encounter a variety of people as they move though the night.  Aside from the three main characters, there were 10 characters played by three actors.

This play hit a lot of notes in 80 minutes:  humor, confusion, terrors, longing.  I greatly enjoyed everyone, but Andy Lee-Hillstrom was fabulous as Bathroom Man/Mugger Man/Movie Man/PI Guy/Sandman.  At one point I had to remind myself that this was live theater and no CGI effects were going to swoop in and startle me.  And then Lee-Hillstrom spoke and every hair on my body stood up, he was so creepy.

Sprung.

Here's a bit of hardy kiwi.

And here's a bit of black current.

Postcard from Sweden

I think this is just about the cheeriest thing I've seen all winter.  Meulikki writes that she is having the flu.  I'm glad she found time to write me this postcard.

Art Building

Fourth floor.  Here it goes!
Will the strange, metal object on the left be completely obscured by the time the building is done?

Sometimes first impressions are right.

When I graduated high school, I piled in a car with three other friends the day after our graduation and we drove to Oregon for a short vacation.  One of our observations about the Beaver State?  There are road signs everywhere!  They told us the speed limit was going to change, told us to turn our lights off after a tunnel and told us that there might be "Congestion."  That was our favorite. We would always cough when we saw that one.

But walking to work today, I realized the incredible number of signs that were jammed in a two-block stretch.  This one has five, as does the next block.

I'm glad to see that, 20 years on, Oregon signs are still everywhere.

Our Heritage?

Celebrate "Rip City style" by honoring the Trail Blazers 80's teams. 
Players will wear special Rip City jerseys to honor our heritage.

Now me, I think of "my heritage" as something that happened far in the past, like the fact that my great-grandmother had 15 children, or my grandfather died when my dad was a teenager, or that my other grandfather was born in New Hampshire, but grew up in Greece.  I don't think of my "heritage" as something that happened less that 35 years ago.  That's not a heritage, that's the recent past.

Interestingly, here's the definition from Dictionary.com

her·it·age

  [her-i-tij]  Show IPA

noun

1.

something that comes or belongs to one by reason of birth; an inherited lot or portion: a heritage ofpoverty and suffering; a national heritage of honor, pride, and courage.

2.

something reserved for one: the heritage of the righteous.

3.

Law.

a.

something that has been or may be inherited by legal descent or succession.

b.

any property, especially land, that devolves by right of inheritance.

Can we really say that our pro basketball team came to us by birth?

Postcard from Hong Kong

A self-identified "17-year-old man" sent me this fun photo.  He says Hong Kong is a beautiful city and wished me good luck.