Reendom, Rundom, Random, Roo.....

Random thoughts on another Thursday:

I was recently invited to do Coward by a friend of mine in New York. I was flattered to be considered, even more flattered to be remembered, and can remember a day when I would have packed the car on the basis of that invitation. I wish I would have gotten more of those invitations.

Reunions are coming out of the woodwork; so far, one for a Children's Theatre I once worked for, and another from one of the Universities I've attended. I'm considering attending, but it's a mighty long reach between now and then. That, and I'm not sure how I feel about large reunions. I've always been fond of the small, improptu get togethers, but I'm a control freak in that regard. I would love to see some of the people. I would hate to see some of the others.

It's been awhile since I heard from my friend from Granger. I hope it wasn't something I said. Or did.

When laundry comes, it comes not as single soldiers, but in battalions.

Thus also comes mail order catalogues.

My memory has been poked again by the Facebook. Once again, I'm flattered to be remembered, but seriously, I thought you didn't care for me; and if that's the case, why are you "friending" me? And if you DID care for me, why didn't you say something?

Years ago, I knew a stage manager who, every Memorial Day, would sit in the sun and read THE GREAT GATSBY from cover to cover; it was one of those strange traditions that people have for themselves, that make them either endearing, or annoying. For him, it was endearing.

I had a tradition similar to that; but mine would occur on the first day of Summer, which is around June 20. There was this radio program called SARATOGA SPRINGS, created by those wonderful folks at ZBS, and broadcast in four minute episodes on NPR in the 90's. In toto, there were about nine hours of episodes, and I would listen to them, one by one, from morning until night.

There was nothing like the sound of SARATOGA SPRINGS, the aroma of charcoal and chicken, and the feel of the combination of sun and shade that comes with the end of a Missouri day.

This puzzle is about my life.

There's this show on SPIKE called DEADLIEST WARRIOR, and they just announced that the next episode pits Shaka Zulu against William Wallace.

Huh.

Wallace will kick his ass.

And who the HELL is reading me from Columbus, Ohio?