Twelfth Night, or As You Will

Seattle Shakespeare Company has put together one of the best performances of the Bard’s inventory that I have ever seen. Twelfth Night, or As You Will is absolutely fantastic. In fact, it is likely only second to their own production of The Taming of the Shrew. (Set in a Texas trailer park, that play was so good it is unfair to use it as a yardstick for anything shy of Biblical revelation.)

The festivities began with the actors caroling, leading us in song, (cleverly, we were set up as a punch line for later in the performance) and a drama class warm up exercise that eased us all into a comfortable matinee. While Wikipedia assures me that this is a standard pre-play tactic used by Twelfth Night directors across the fruited plain, I had never seen it done before and even managed to enjoy it.

The improbable fiction then unfolded before us with Viola’s eerie entrance and we were off and running. Several items throughout the production need to be highlighted. Visually, the best moment was the very close of the first act. Curio and Valentine, played by Sean Patrick Taylor and Carter Rodriquez, have a ‘dueling banjos’ face off with the guitars that they had been plucking on throughout the afternoon. When they reached the crescendo of their duel, they both looked up at the stage lights and blew them out, with a little help from a perfectly timed fader in the tech booth.

The surprise of the day had to come from John Bogar’s completely over the top portrayal of Malvolio, whose stodgy and proper ways crumble to reveal the lunacy of true love. It is a joy to watch an actor so give himself over to a role that all shame and self consciousness disappear like the thin vapor of decorum that we each cling to, fearing one great gust of wind to reveal us for what we are. Not only that, but his operatic singing voice was staggeringly good. I mean breath takingly, room shakingly, Simon Cowell can kiss my buttingly good. Other notables included the Fool, played by Chris Ensweiler as a mish-mash of Jew and gypsy and Bohemian Port Townsend street peddler, who, as is always the case, was the wisest one on stage. His rendition of ‘heigh-ho, the wind and the rain’ began to delve into theatrical magic to end the show. Sir Toby and Sir Andrew, played to comedic perfection by Ray Gonzalez and Darragh Kennan, were some of the best drunken sots I’ve ever seen. (And I’ve been 22 years in the Marine Corps. I’ve seen some drunken sots.)

The funniest part of the play came from the sword fight between Viola and Sir Andrew. Each character, convinced that the other is a master swordsman whereas they need simple direction like ‘Front Toward Enemy’ to even pick up a blade, face each other with a hesitancy that is drawn out to its full effect… and then one step beyond. Curio, who was lurking, just visible, behind the set would wait for them to raise steel and then dramatically strum on his guitar like the soundtrack to a Clint Eastwood spaghetti western. Each time he did it the characters would pause and crane their necks to figure out where the music was coming from. Comedy gold.

But the best thing about the performance, by far and away, without question or debate, was Susannah Millonzi. She played Viola with a deftness and subtlety that leave me searching for words I don’t often use, like ‘enchanted’ and ‘enraptured.’ (Like I said, I’ve been 22 years in the Marine Corps. I don’t get enchanted a whole lot.) Her believability came through in every quirk of the eyebrow, every twitch of the fingertip, and every slip of the smile that went from adoration to despair to resolution in the same fleeting instant. It was as if no filter existed between mind and body and she had absorbed Viola’s cause as her own. Whether it was comedy, as in the above crossing of swords, or passion, as she looked upon the unaware Duke Orsino, she was quite simply captivating, in every physical and spiritual aspect that word can be used in. As a matter of fact, she played this part so perfectly that she must forevermore stand like Alexander on the Asian seacoast, weeping for there are no more worlds to conquer.

This is the best Shakespeare you can see on the entire West Coast. (And I can say that because I’ve been to Ashland.) Seattle Shakespeare Company in general, and this production in particular, gets my highest possible rating, given only to those few, those happy few, who over the years have impressed me beyond my already high expectations: They know what the hell they’re doing.

Daggers, Duplicity, and Dragons

Here's a quick update on my latest writing project which will probably be called something like 'Cold Valley' or 'The Valley Deep and Low'. I'm at 2000 words and counting. As always, I have no idea where it will end up. Set in the mid 7th century amongst the clashing cultures in the southwest corner of Anglo-Saxon Britain, it involves a travelling Welsh dragon slayer, some frightened villagers, Christian missionaries, Celtic sorcerers, dark and spooky settings, human sacrifice, some violence... and a dragon.

Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Thing

There's a DIRECTV call center operator out there somewhere who I need to apologize to. Last year, I signed up for NFL Sunday Ticket through some kind of special deal where it was practically free. All very well and good except that I don't remember anyone saying anything about auto-renewal at full price. So here I am wondering why the TV bill has gone up so much lately and I finally grab a statement and read it. Forty-five bucks a month for NFL games that I haven't watched at all. Yes, I should have recognized this sooner but you see, DIRECTV is very clever with the way they bill you. You get an email every month saying that you have a zero balance. How is this? Because they have already charged your credit card so you have to wait for the credit card statement to get an amount. Wife Number One and Only handles the bills so she doesn't know what I've done or not done regarding the TV. When she finally gets around, through no fault of her own, to mentioning that the TV bill seems awfully high I think that it must be some kind of introductory rate that dropped off. Again, oversight on my part but, I think, encouraged by an intentionally obscure billing system.

All this is to say that I was a little short tempered with the guy who answered the phone when I called in to complain and get Sunday Ticket removed and credited. (OK, maybe I was a lot short tempered when he tried to explain 'company policy.') Now my problem is that I clearly owe him an apology but it's practically impossible to find him and do so. So, DIRECTV phone answering guy, if you're reading this... I'm sorry.

How to Fall Off a Barn Roof

This one is surprisingly easy. The first thing you have to do is get an eight year old friend. We'll call him, oh, Kurt. It helps if you're also eight years old but that's not necessary. Then find a barn, preferably an old barn with attached side buildings used to store tack and channel calves through to get them into a trailer for auction. Make sure you can climb up a rickety wooden ladder and get up to the roof of one of the side buildings. The roof should be about twelve feet high.

Once you've secured all this preliminary equipment, get a small tree frog. The tree frog is really the critical part of this sequence of events. Don't skimp on the frog.

Next, take the frog and your friend Kurt up the ladder, walk out onto the roof and set the frog at the edge. The frog will likely do what it is that frogs do. If it doesn't, poke it in the rump with your finger. Lean forward to watch the frog fall.

(I know what you're thinking. But this is not quite the part about falling off the roof yet. Wait for it.)

Squeal with maniacal eight year old glee and swing down to the barnyard on a handy Douglas Fir branch that is perfectly positioned as a method of reaching the ground quickly and safely. Retrieve the frog.

Climb back up on the roof and repeat the process, only this time letting your friend Kurt push the frog. Squeal with glee. Retrieve the frog.

At this point, since it is clearly your turn to make the frog jump off the roof, you should ensure that you are the one to retrieve the frog. Failure to accomplish this simple task will inevitably lead to the following:

Kurt gets the frog and claims that he's going to take your turn. You don't want to believe him but since possession is nine tenths of the law you realize that you could very soon get screwed out of what is rightfully yours. You follow Kurt up onto the roof and see his happy face turn back to you and repeat that he's going to be the one to push the froggie off the roof and that he's apparently going to delight in intentionally stealing your turn. You explain in brief, eight year old language that you disagree with this course of action, but are powerless to do anything about it because you're watching Kurt run away from you across the roof. You chase him.

Here's where things get interesting. You watch Kurt turn his head and check where the edge of the roof is. He then turns back to resume taunting you while still running at a pretty good clip. You follow, still pleading your case but beginning to accept that as he gets closer to the edge it is more likely that he will, in fact, take your turn. At this point your heart begins breaking because you really, really wanted to push the froggie off the roof and Kurt has done stuff like this before so you're really at a loss for what to do and you begin to reevaluate your position in the universe and wonder how God could be so cruel.

Watch, dumbstruck, as Kurt runs right off the roof at full speed. Stop running and go to the edge to see Kurt sprawled out on the dirt, sucking in air for a pretty good cry if he could ever get it out. Swing down, using the quick and safe method described above, and stand helplessly as Kurt flops about like a dying fish. Run to go get the babysitter. Spend the next couple of hours in the Emergency Room, telling this same story to several different people.

And that's how to fall off a barn roof.

CSFF Tour Participants

Some pesky computer issues have been worked out and I've got the list of tour participants for Curse of the Spider King. Since Technorati doesn't count links in a sidebar any more I'm posting them here. It makes more sense anyway because the month to month participation keeps changing. My current plan is to keep adding new people to the blogroll on the right even if they don't take part in the tour every time. That will give the sidebar a semi-historical purpose and continue to allow for inter-month cross posting.

Brandon Barr
Justin Boyer
Amy Browning
Valerie Comer
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Shane Deal
Jeff Draper
Emmalyn Edwards
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Todd Michael Greene
Ryan Heart
Timothy Hicks
Becky Jesse
Cris Jesse
Jason Joyner
Julie
Carol Keen
Krystine Kercher
Tina Kulesa
Melissa Lockcuff
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika
Nissa
John W. Otte
Cara Powers
Chawna Schroeder
James Somers
Speculative Faith
Robert Treskillard
Fred Warren
Jason Waguespac
Phyllis Wheeler
Jill Williamson
KM Wilsher

Curse of the Spider King

The CSFF keeps rolling with great titles. This month we feature Curse of the Spider King by Wayne Thomas Batson and Christopher Hopper. These two guys are like planets that have been orbiting each other for a while and finally collided in a moon creating sort of way. The excerpts I've read prove that this is a book filled with exactly what a great YA fantasy is supposed to have. Plucky kids, villainous villains, and magic both foul and fair. In the hands (and imaginations) of these two, this book is a sure hit.

How to Fall Off a Roof

This last weekend I was putting a roof over the slide-out portion of our trailer. At an altitude of about 8.5 feet I embarked on a journey of discovery that I now relate to you, the huddled masses. I was on top of the slide-out and trying to climb back onto the step ladder by reaching out with my foot and shifting weight onto it. (You know the spot, that tippy top part where there's big red writing DO NOT STAND.) It began to move a little, which I expected, but then began to move a lot, which I didn't expect. When I tried to pull my leg back I realized, like Wile E. Coyote running off the cliff, that my body was too far over the edge and that I had just purchased a one way ticket to the ground. A few decisions had to be made at this point, and made quickly. I could jump for the ladder and hope that it didn't topple over but a brief benefit-cost analysis suggested that I might not like the result of that. I could let my other foot slip off and try to bend back and grab the roofline but there was a lot of plastic sheeting and a not-quite-yet-stable 2x4 frame that I had halfway nailed together and I knew there were a lot of sharp, pointy things in that direction. So, with very few good alternatives available to me, and with the power of gravity frustratingly not following the Warner Brothers acceleration curve, I decided to just go straight down. It is, clearly, the fastest way to resolve the situation. My descent took me past the ladder and thankfully kept any stray arms or legs from getting caught up in the rungs, which would have been bad. On the way down my shoulder got into a test of wills with a small running light on the side of the trailer. The running light put up a valiant effort but in the end was just outmatched. It snapped off and died a heroic death. After that encounter came the 'contact with the ground' part of this story. That event began with my foot, which had forgotten to retract itself from its position of proximate cause and still thought it was reaching for the top of the ladder. My weight came down on it and it did what feet do when asked to support that much stress that quickly: It gave up and let the ankle take it. Stupid foot. By then the rest of me was finishing up the journey begun .372 seconds before. That's when I discovered two things. First, wet and loamy forest ground with a coiled up hose on it is not a bad thing to fall onto. Second, I'm a genius for cleverly arranging random bricks to be 6 to 18 inches away from me rather than directly under me during this event and break a rib or rupture a spleen.

And that's how to fall off a roof.

How Northwesterners Handle the Outdoors

Whether it's hanging out on a windswept, rocky beach or holding your head high when the rain comes sideways, people in the Great Northwest have a unique way of enjoying the natural beauty all around us. Take me and the family last night. Raining at the campsite, check. Temperature around 53 degrees, check. Pop up canopy and parkas, check. The result: Perfect campfire weather!

It's Family Fun Night in Western Washington.

Finished

"The Granite Strand" finally reached its conclusion this morning, clocking in at 17351 words. Now comes the work, of course, of critiques and rewrites and editing and such. But it is always nice to have a completed rough draft to provide the boundaries within which to operate. Until you get to the end you really don't have any definition and can move in any direction that comes to mind. That's how the story grew to the size it is. It will be interesting to see what it becomes.

Greetings From Zombieland, Wish You Were Here!

Zombieland is living proof that greatness can be achieved if you set your sights low enough. (Or maybe I should say 'unliving proof'.) I shuffled into the dark with little or no expectations of an amusing next two hours. What I got was a big sack of gore (In a risky diversion from zombie protocol, this movie has the unmentionables going for your intestines more often than your brains. Must be easier to get at since they all seem to have bad teeth.) and a whole lot of laughs. I'd say this movie is done very tongue-in-cheek but the living dead have a noticeable absence of cheeks so it's really more tongue-lolling-between-gnashing-teeth but you get my drift. The characters are awesome and over the top, the CGI zombie mayhem is well done, and Bill Murray plays himself. All in all, a very good movie if you like that sort of thing. Not only that but there are lots of handy pointers on how to survive and thrive in the Zombie Apocalypse, which are surprisingly relevant for today's pre-zombie world. Or maybe... we're not so pre-zombie as we think.

Stalking Esterlyn

While this would be a great title for a new thriller/horror/police procedural novel it's actually what me and the family did last night. We packed the little ones into the minivan and drove up to Calvary Chapel Lake Stevens where Esterlyn was stopping for their Open Your Heart Tour. Any time Esterlyn is in the area we usually find a way to go see them. How many times? Well, let's just say I've now noticed that their trademark collection of lamps sitting out all over the stage have seen better days.

It was an excellent evening of worship songs and a message on serving Christ by bringing His word into your everyday life. At least, that was the part of the sermon I heard before Son Number Three got a little fidgity and I had to excuse myself to wander the halls with him. Pastor Bob Caldwell is from Boise and is touring churches with his son who headlines the band. The guy is hilarious and cuts quickly to the Meaning of Life which is glorifying God instead of trying to glorify ourselves.

If the tour ends up in your area it would be a very good idea to do some stalking of your own and see what's going on with them. And stop at the local dollar store to buy them some new lamps.

Reviews and the Rogue Blades

Rogue Blades Entertainment gets profiled at Christopher Marshall's blog in November and you should all go there often to see what he has to say. Unless, of course, he says something bad about my stories, in which case you should protest him and stick pins in home made voodoo dolls.

You Can't Take the Sky From Me

While this may be true if you're Malcolm Reynolds, it's apparently not true here in the American reality we've elected ourselves into. Here's an interesting article on the government capping pay for bank executives who lead companies that took TARP money. This should be disturbing to everyone, even those who cheer for the rich to be humbled. Put very simply, when the government is encouraged by the masses to target and punish a minority group (and they actually do it) we are heading down the road to tyranny.

From a liberty standpoint, this move only highlights that when liberty is reduced anywhere, it is reduced everywhere. What happens to the next target of the wrath of the masses? What happens when we run out of minority targets and we start in on other groups within the majority? Eventually, my friends, they will come for you and your salary.

From an economic standpoint, this is national suicide. The problem with socialism is that you eventually run out of other people's money. We say we'll only tax the rich in order to pay for all these wonderful government handouts. How can we tax the rich when we systematically destroy their wealth? After a time, what's left to tax? Eventually my friends, they will come for you and your income.

It's staggering to me that people are actually applauding this move. They clearly can't see where this is headed. To quote Star Wars: So this is how democracy ends? With thunderous applause?

We live in interesting times.

Haunt of Jackals

This month's CSFF tour brings us the coolest title in a long while. Haunt of Jackals is a new christian horror novel by Eric Wilson. It's the second book in the Jerusalem's Undead trilogy, and the entire premise is amazing. I love the idea of taking some passages within the bible and adding a little what-if to them. Throw in some action and danger written by someone competent, and you got yourself something wonderful.

Here's the list for the rest of the tour:

Brandon Barr
Wayne Thomas Batson
Jennifer Bogart
Justin Boyer
Keanan Brand
Amy Browning
Karri Compton
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Jeff Draper
April Erwin
Karina Fabian
Beth Goddard
Todd Michael Greene
Timothy Hicks
Becky Jesse
Cris Jesse
Julie
Carol Keen
Dawn King
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Mirtika
Nissa
John W. Otte
James Somers
Speculative Faith
Rachel Starr Thomson
Robert Treskillard
Steve Trower
Fred Warren
Phyllis Wheeler
Jill Williamson
KM Wilsher