Why can’t people just get along? Why can’t people simply let others live and laugh and love? Alone. In peace. In their own joy. What purpose does hurting others serve when those you hurt are happy? What good can come from tearing a person apart on the inside? What good does pain and anguish and hatred bring to anyone or anything? Ever? Ever? Why I hurt so much now I cannot disclose. It is too personal. But now I hurt When just moments before I lived And laughed And loved

http://www.denverpost.com/theater/ci_12513230 John Moore writes the following about our little show: I was driving from the Denver Victorian Playhouse’s simple, mostly wonderful staging of “The Fantasticks,” when onto the iPod shuffled a tune by that most melancholy minstrel of indie rock, Conor Oberst. “The love I sell you in the evening by the morning won’t exist,” he sang. It was a piercing lament. And it was pure “Fantasticks.” There’s a reason this bittersweet little miracle of a show, which cost $1,441 to mount Off-Broadway in 1960, went on to become the longest-running musical in history.

Ok, admittedly, the title is dramatic. But I am just so tired of picking up pieces of so-called “indestructible” dog chew toys—whether that’s before the dog has eaten them or after—that I am tempted to give them nothing at all. Or at least nothing that isn’t edible. Dogs will eat anything, and frequently do, and I just don’t feel comfortable feeding them plastic. But these toys are cheap and plentiful and colorful—all attributes the human owners notice and about which the dogs couldn’t care less. Unfortunately certain dogs don’t seem smart enough to learn not to eat anything and everything so we must limit what they can put in their mouths: at least those things that humans have artificially created for their pets, for their owners, to clean up after they are obliterated, regurgitated, or expelled in one form or another.

I interviewed today at a [local] Theater/Film/Video department to teach advanced postproduction this summer and got the job. The pay was decent and the actual work seemed like fun, too. The Chair of the department essentially offered me the job this morning and we set up a meeting to go over paperwork on Thursday. I was excited and happy, not only to be making money but to be working and teaching in my field. Then I get a call this afternoon and he says that after talking with the original instructor that I won’t be able to teach the class because the first guy will be teaching it after all.

I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little sad. I’m sad that my name did not get mentioned in the lastest review of The Fantasticks. I wouldn’t have minded a bad review, or good review, or no review at all, but not mentioning me kinda hurts a little. I’m sure it wasn’t intentional; I just wish folks had a better understanding of what a Musical Director does… for… um… a musical. ☹️ Sarah, our director, posted this on Facebook just now so it’s possible that the text was truncated in some fashion.