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Friday, June 29, 2001

Ah, the hot weather is back. After a brief, murky interlude that had the summer-haters jumping for joy (in that low-key, don't-get-all-het-up way they have), we have resumed our regularly scheduled programming, only slightly the worse for having endured the interruption. I got back to the routine of weeding and watering today, and I even managed to find some time to sit out on the porch and read. So it's all good.

My TiVo came yesterday. I was so excited that I've already read the manual from cover to cover. Now I know everything there is to know about TiVo. Just ask me.

The problem is that I have to wait for a call from the installer, to set up an appointment to switch my new dish with the old one. It's all included in the special offer I already paid for. I'm not going to wait too long, though, before I start reaching out. I already have plans for what I want TiVo to do for me while I'm on vacation.

Mom and I went to see Picasso at the Lapin Agile at SRT last night. It's a brilliantly witty play, with a generous dose of silliness. That's to be expected, since the playwright is Steve Martin. The author's literate sensibility is evident in every scene, every line even. That's a good thing if you're a Steve Martin fan, as apparently most of last night's audience was.

This play is the quintessential opposite of the profound simplicity of Peter Pan, which I raved about last weekend. If there's such a thing as intellectual froth (and obviously there is), this play is that particular concoction. It's full of big ideas that are presented in an offhand way by an offbeat cast.

It takes some talent to make this material appealing across a spectrum of ages and expectations on a warm summer evening in a college auditorium. The performances would have been remarkable if the actors had merely managed to get out the entire ocean of words in this play. The fact that they did so while creating quirky characters that an audience can relate to is even more impressive.

summer sunset

Summer sunset from the middle of my driveway.

One thing about going to the theater, though: I do not care to be part of the show. We bought our tickets late and had to sit in the front row. I heard on the way in that there was some interaction between actors and audience, and I immediately started to squirm. I was uncomfortable until it became apparent that the interaction was going to be incidental: one person in the center of the row was asked to hold a book briefly, and there were a few call and response routines that involved the entire crowd. After I realized this, I exhaled and enjoyed the rest of the play.

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