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2001-10-04 - 11:12 a.m.

Affairs to remember

I did a spot of shopping after work Tuesday. At Hecht's I got stuck in line behind a couple - man and woman who were busily planning an affair. Here they are out on a date although they are obviously married to other people.

"Well, what if he answers when I call?"

"Just hang up. And if it's me, and he's there and I can't talk, I'll say, I'll say... 'Not unless you have it in black'."

What conversation does that sentence fit? And how often can she not want something in black before her husband figures it out? And if you're having an affair, why are you in a mall? Aren't you supposed to be in some out-of-the-way lovenest? Why are you browsing tableware and buying sweatshirts?

I can't fathom it - affairs I mean. I can fathom lust while married. If Roland didn't appreciate other attractive women, I'd worry. Besides, as my friend Becca says, It's doesn't matter where they get their appetite.... I can even fathom sport sex, no harm no foul, if all parties are knowledgeable and agree to it. I'm not sure I could handle it, but I get the concept. I get multiple way relationships, same-sex couples, it's all fine as long as all the players are agreeable. It's all about not hurting anyone.

But an affair is forming an emotional commitment to another person without your primary partner's knowledge. The lying kills me. I think the lie is worse than the physical betrayal. I guess that's why they call it cheating.

Odd, very odd, to stand there an unavoidably eavesdrop on them planning a torrid affair. You expect that scene in a chick channel (Lifetime) movie not on the floor of Hecht's. It felt a little unreal.


Last night was a lovely, lovely, much needed social break for Oedipus at the Shakespeare Theatre. I left work early, exiting stage left from a useless meeting, and went home to put dinner in the oven. Real homecooked food, beef tenderloin (cause I found it incredibly cheap), fresh broccoli, and, of course my favorite port wine sauce, which Gen refers to as Pass the crack. Since we've all been wound too tight lately, cider and beer was a wonderful addition to the meal. Kind Roland, our designated driver, abstained. Such a pleasant and relaxing thing, dinner, that we left later than we planned for the theatre.

Theo to Roland: Can you get us downtown in half an hour?

Roland in that are you cracked voice: Um, no.

Theo: Kymber could do it.

Roland: That's nice. I don't have a pilot's license. Roland has two older brothers who have completely cured him of being baited by overdoing it during his childhood. Damn them - they've left me so little to work with.

Gen from the backseat: Roland is great! We love Roland! Thanks for driving! Roland's our hero!

We do make it downtown in about thirty-five minutes, spending much time cheering Roland on as he dodged stupid cards, illegally parked taxis, stopped buses and suicidal pedestrians. We parked on the neon pink floor - the parking garage is a bit, um, bright, since they repainted it last year - and found Rags and Kyna waiting in the lobby.

You know how couples become more alike when they live together? Ragnarr, the eternal present man, actually talked to Gen and I back in the summer to figure out where our theatre subscription was so he could get Kyna a surprise. He even figured out what nights we went so they could get the same nights. I think Kyna's still a tad bit weirded out, but very happy. Keep her off balance, Rags, start shopping for Christmas presents now.

The lobby has been recarpeted, much brighter now, so that's a bit of a shock. They took down the huge production pictures (they were out of room) and consolidated them into one posters per season. They did include the picture of the flying green pig from the Peer Gynt production four(?) years ago. Damn, let me tell you, stick with the symphony, avoid that play.

Mel and Patrick make it in just before curtain just as I was hunting a pen to leave their tickets at the box office. (By the way - great dress Mel.) Patrick has his head shaved to one inch stubble - the fuzzy cueball thing, much fun to rub.

The Oedipus Plays starred Avery brooks in the title role - a 3.25 hour compilation of Oedipus Rex, Oedipus at Colonus and Antigone. Props for Sophocles - I've always liked his work. It was staged African style, with the chorus dressed as tribal dancers. Might sound weird, but it was very, very effective. If you were thinking Greek tragedy = chorus in togas, this was SO much better. The choral responses were set to dancing and music. They had a band playing African instruments on stage to help set the mood throughout the play, adding native sound effects to heighten the mood. What a rocking chorus.

Antigone was played by Cynthia Martells, who I was completely unfamiliar with, but she did a stunning job. Sent creeps down my spine as the martyred Antigone. The African staging brought vitality to a serious play. The unified group response to the action added a new dimension- making warding signs as the Oedipal tragedy unfolded, unified supplication in the face of Cheron's rages. What a great chorus. But I must note, native dancing is done barefoot and many of the cast were wearing ankle wraps.

At intermission, Alan figured out the two seats to his left were empty, so Rags and Kyna moved down to join us. [It'd be nicer if we could subscribe as a block, but every time we mess with the numbers on our subscription, our seats get moved (adding Gen and then Patrick), and since we really like our current seats, I'm all cowardly about changing anything.] Mel went to get the hockey score. (I didn't even know the season had started, but Patrick informs me real hockey starts today. Blissfully sports ignorant.) We're a lively little theatre crew - I think the couple sitting in front of me wouldn't mind moving their seats cause we frighten them. Maybe the discussion of egg dudes and froglicking unicorns startle them. They certainly startle Patrick.

I had trouble staying awake through the second act because it was warm, I'd had a great dinner and some alcohol and, oh yeah, I'd been up since 3 am. It was very frustrating, because the play was fantastic and I didn't want miss anything. Props for the lively chorus for keeping me awake, and Gen for imitating their ducky hand motions, startling me from my one doze.

I hope the Antigone actress does more work with this theatre. Damn, she was good. I actually enjoyed her part more than Avery Brooks.

What I really wish is they'd get Patrick Stewart back. I saw him in Othello and I still drool fondly over that play.

The curtain falls, and we disperse to the four winds. That's one pain with weeknight theatre. There's just no way to coordinate a group arrival, dinner, departure. Not enough time when people have to come from work from all over the metro area. But if we had a weekend subscription, we'd just never make it.


And one more non sequiter - my dentist looks like Corwyn. Can you envision Corwyn checking for cavities? It's quite disturbing from the chair. I didn't realize how strong the resemblance was till my last dentist appointment a few weeks ago. The voices are even similar. I know they say everyone has a twin - but Corwyn and my dentist?


After much wrangling, I've decide not to go to University. As my friend Sophia says, the fun to drive ratio is just not favorable. I'll miss the two-worker fingerloop braiding, which Gen and I totally failed at on our own, and a bunch of other cool classes. The hardest thing to skip is Earl Brion is coming from the West - someone that's done a lot of period tournament work - but they'll be other chances.

I'm feeling the pressure to deal with many errands around my house, last minute event arrangements, and the ten MoL reports sitting on my desk - active Kingdom this fall. We need to plan the UK trip. The airline reservations are made - we waivered after the September 11th tragedy, but we're planning to go. If I stay home, I'll get a lot of needed work accomplished and get take my adorable Roland on a date, maybe even make the Renaissance portrait exhibit at the National Gallery.

Scribble to Theo

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