Gallant Forty Twa

It's been over two weeks since I saw Gregory Burke's Black Watch and it's still with me.  So much so that the actor who played Cammy showed up in my dream last night.  It's haunting.



The staging of the show, at Chicago's Broadway Armory, was so striking, such a perfect fusion of theater and space, that I can't imagine seeing it any other way.  Surely they don't also produce this show on traditional proscenium stages?  So much would be lost.  No, you have to sit on those risers, in an homage to (mockery of?) a military tattoo.  You have to feel the reverberations of the explosions.  You have to stare through the action at your fellow man across the way (the night I saw the show, my fellow man happened to be Mayor Daley).

In watching these men - these beautiful, strong, silly, angry, brave, lost, crude, noble men - you can begin to see them as more than war story archetypes.  Their personalities emerge.  They peel back their layers of vulgarity to reveal an astonishing depth of character.

This show doesn't feel directed, it feels choreographed.  But to say "choreography" suggests the qualities of an effeminate dancer.  Happily, these men steer clear of such any such missteps.  This is movement.  Sometimes violent, at other times tender.  But always masculine.  Manly, but with the voices of choir boys:



I watched a good portion of this show breathless, tears streaming down my face.  The juxtaposition of horror and gallantry quite simply broke my heart.  Thanks to the Chicago Shakespeare Theater and the National Theatre of Scotland for one of the best theater experiences of my life.

Man of the Hour: Raylan Givens

I never realized I have such a thing for cowboys.

Quick-witted and even quicker on the draw, Raylan Givens (as played by Timothy Olyphant on FX's terrific Justified) is driving me wild.

He's old-fashioned in all the right ways and brimming with charm and confidence.  Mix the righteousness of a Wild West lawman with the scrappy instincts of a backwoods bootlegger.  Add a sardonic sense of humor and a genuinely sweet chivalry.  Toss in some renegade rebelliousness and a quaintly formal wardrobe.  Work in a streak of recklessness and more than a whiff of danger.  And don't forget the wildly expressive face, the ever-so-slightly salt-and-pepper hair, and a sexy-as-sin smile to make me week-in-the-knees.

Pour yourself a mason jar of "apple pie," Raylan.  You are the Man of the Hour.

Countdown

In just under two weeks, I'll be in Las Vegas.  It's for Work but, since I'll be staying at the brand-spanking-new Cosmopolitan, it's a safe bet that there will be some Play, too.



God only knows what debauchery I'll get myself into this time.

I.cannot.wait.

UPDATE:  It's just as hot as the commercial. Naughty but oh so comfortable. Surprisingly chic in a town that is decidedly not. This is a hotel for grown ups.


Thank you to Corey, my mysteriously prescient roulette buddy.  I should have found a way to thank you properly...


People who say that you can't win money in Vegas don't know what they're doing.

Status Update

I finally saw The Social Network.  I definitely didn't love it.  I'm far more interested in intellectual property debates than in wild-success-spinning-wildly-out-of-control tropes so I could have done without most of the last 45 minutes.  That said:

• I still love Aaron Sorkin who still has issues with women.  Technology changes but people stay the same, I guess.  (Kind of the moral of the movie, too, huh?)
• So many people have responded to the Mark Zuckerberg character by saying "He's such a douche."  I think it's more accurate to say "They're all such douches" (with the exception of Eduardo Saverin who, in all probability, was also a douche but somehow managed to garner a sympathetic characterization from Sorkin).  What an insufferable place Harvard must be.
• I'm stunned and rather impressed that this movie did so well in theaters.  No explosions.  No Megan Fox.  No blue aliens.  Just a whole lot of talk talk talk.  Good for you, America!

Big Breakup

By: Charles Rex Arbogast, AP

Jay Cutler, you are no longer my boyfriend.  

For the past two years, I defended you.  I sang your praises when everyone else questioned your abilities.  I argued that you're tough, naturally gifted, and an instinctual leader.  I pointed to the fights you picked with refs on behalf of your fellow players as examples of your loyalty.  I marveled at your devotion when the offensive line was letting you down, exposing you to a terrifying string of brain-rattling sacks.  I liked that you didn't suffer the media-fools gladly.  You gave the impression  that maybe, just maybe, the Bears had finally found a quarterback who wasn't a complete headcase.  

Today you made me look like a fool.  I still think you're tough, and that's why I know that you punked out today.  The only injury that should have kept you off the field for an NFC Championship game was one that sent you to the hospital.  Maybe you didn't want to play the second half because you realized how lackluster your performance was in the first half?  

Regardless, you let me down.  What are you going to do to try to win me back?

Man of the Hour: Shawn Mullins

This track is burning me up on these cold winter nights:

  Shawn Mullins - Light You Up by Vanguard Records

Shawn Mullins, thanks to your sexy-as-all-get-out "Light Me Up," you are the Man of the Hour.

Twelve

This picture is making my life right now:

Hang in there, Malia.  I can't imagine being such a public figure during what can be such a difficult age!