So far ...

My parents had a book of poems that I loved to read as a child. It was a collection called The Best-Loved Poems of the American People. As an academic, I note that it did not call it the best American poetry.


Memorization came easy to me, and poems are easier to memorize than prose. One of the bits of doggerel I recall went something like this:

The optimist fell ten stories,

And at each window bar

he shouted to his friends,

"Doing all right so far!"

That is a bit the way it feels with the play. It is ... okay. No disasters ... yet.

As I predicted, the local audience is pleased with it because of its local setting. The Pulitzer Prize committee, on the other hand, need not worry about wasting any time with it.

Friday's performance was fairly smooth, tonight's even more so after the small cast got over opening night jitters. Hank/Tag is torn between authorial pride and superstitious dread of something going wrong. Tomorrow (Sunday) there is an afternoon performance and then the evening show will be the end of it all.

Keep your fingers crossed!

PS -- One other poem, or part of a poem, I remember vaguely from the book was about dried apple pies:

I loathe, abhor, detest, despise

Abominate dried-apple pies...

Tread on my corns, or tell me lies,

But don't pass me dried-apple pies. 

I liked this because of the language. Actually I was quite fond of dried apple pies.