...all's well that ends well. The problem is that we never know the end. That reminds me of the time, in college, when I went to a university theater production. A former, esteemed professor had written the play. I suffered through the first act. Resisted leaving during intermission. And breathed a sigh of relief when the second act ended. Headed back to my lowly slum/dorm.
The next day, in the Helmsman (campus newspaper), I read the review. Turns out, there were THREE acts. Wow. Was I the only one who hightailed it out of there after way too long? Apparently, the playwright had delusions of Wagner. Or Chekhov.
That reminds me of another university play. Clockwork Orange. Weird, violent story. The strange thing is that I don't think I received extra credit for either of these excuses for a play. I should've, though, particularly after I saw the giant/rapist from CO walking down Patteson on my way to Econ 102. I ducked into the Catholic Student Center to avoid him. Talk about a fish out of water.
Dadgumit. I was so naive. Innocent, even. I could write a thousand blog posts about that. But it's totally irrelevant now.
Gotta run. It's almost time for The D's din-din. Duty calls...
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