Let’s call this the final Sunday of the semester.
Not exactly accurate, depending on when you conclude the semester. But there is but one week of class left, three more classes, three more opportunities to hand back old essays and exams. Monday morning: exams for most of them.
Sunday morning found me bussing to campus for the dress rehearsal. For the 10:30 Auftritt we were supposed to be there at 9. No problem. A little chocolate milk ahead of time, laptop in the lighting booth, costume on, a bit of makeup under my eyes to darken and highlight them.
And a great performance. No complaints from Manfred regarding the lighting work.
We were done around noon with the performance (it takes 77 minutes) but then we had to take off the costumes, clear the set, go over corrections and commentary, etc., so I missed Sunday Brunch writing with the Bostonians and others, but shortly before 1 I made it to Fair Trade, had a witty exchange with the red-haired barista, and sat down to read and write for several hours.
Shortly after I got home Leena called and we chatted for a while; she told me about her Stanford GSB (5-year) reunion that happened this week, and while she encountered a bunch of impressive/intimdating folks (that is, those making sh*tload of money, up to $2.1 million per year), she preferred the low-key and collegial Pomona experience last weekend. We also discussed her dating life and less of my anemic one — the typical matter of friends lending support, giving advice, etc.
I watched last night’s Doctor Who, which was at times less-focused, I thought, than some of the other recent ones, though perhaps the repetition and perceived redundancy (and fake ending) were part of the structural plan, part of the planned experience. Its main importance was in wrapping up the “1st chapter” of season 3 in a way, bringing Martha home again and supposedly dropping her off — even though know she’s not leaving yet — and getting her sort of caught up with her family. But since her mother was so controlling and freaked out we never really go to know her beyond that reaction, whereas the sister developed a bit more depth as the episode wore on. And then the episode was dropping hints — the “warning” about the Doctor given to the mother — about upcoming plot threads, it seems. Perhaps something that will come up in the next episode, though not next week — that will be a Eurovision detour — but rather two weeks from now.
Thereafter I put on a few episodes of Jericho, which is growing on me. There is enough conflict in each episode but the plotting and detail is weak enough that the plot itself seems loose and unsatisfying, filled with characterization. It risks becoming a regular night-time soap, but with a post-nuclear setting. We’ve had Eric-centric stories recently, which is not a bad thing, since I think we at first saw him as the weak shadow of his father, the daddy and mommy’s boy, the golden child, who lacked character (cheating on his wife, indecisive). He’s grown up some, but his stories remain unresolved. In contrast we’ve entered a holding pattern regarding Jake and Hawkins; details get filled in, or rather, added to, but we’ve learned nothing substantially new about them. Excepting the minor and annoying characters they seem to be trying to put all the main characters in some sort of problematic romantic relationship. That can be interesting, but it runs the risk of becoming a couples drama.
As I said, soap opera. I’d rather have more tight plotting and intrigue, speculation, and fleshed-out back-story.
After Jericho I put on a few minutes of Roy Orbison, who is my current “R” entry, with Rufus Wainwright up next. I only came to Rufus through Kaity — same as Ben Folds, but whereas I became a Ben Folds fan, I’ve yet to really warm to Rufus, even though there is a voice at the back of my head telling me that I should.
