I'm a sucker for it, what can I say?

I just love Olympic women's figure skating. Like a lot of people, I know. But it just opens those floodgates. Those earnest, devoted people making this strange and difficult thing so beautiful. This was just a great competition. I totally bought into the drama around Kim Yu Na and all the pressure on her from South Korea. And I haven't seen a more captivating performer on the ice in a long, long time. And the former queen of the sport, Mao Asada, fighting - really fighting, you can see it in her skate, with a powerful intensity, against the gentle, elegant force of Kim.

And then Joannie Rochette, again. I mean, to channel that pain into something so beautiful, and share it with the world. It's a special thing.

I sat there on my couch, gushing like a fire hydrant. And I'm doing it again now, as I write this.

You can't embed the NBC Sports videos, so here's the link if you didn't watch it.

This is something though

Okay, I admit that my last few posts have been a little, shall we say, dark? I've found myself back in that indignant place because a few things that have happened recently.

However, I'm not going to dwell on that. Instead, I watched the women's short program tonight - it was actually on last night but I recorded it, and must say that this lady - Joannie Rochette - had me just weeping and full of spirit. You probably know the story - her mom died of a heart attack just a few days ago. And she skated anyway - of course she did, and she should have - you know her mom would have wanted her to - and she skated so beautifully. You could see how much was inside her - she was grey with pain, but composed - and her father in audience - that poor man out there trying to make something of this horrible situation - his eyes were novels. And she finished and broke down. It was truly brave, and generous, and what performing should be about. It was just something special.

So I'm back on the getting-through because 1)somebody always got it much worse; and 2)You just gotta keep putting it out there.

Collaborators

In France after 1940, when the Nazis rolled through and captured Paris, they set up a puppet government, the Vichy regime, which was ostensibly independent but actually an arm of the Nazi government. Some of the people in France joined the Resistance, to fight for Free France and subvert the puppet government any way they could, to keep fighting the wrong that was Nazism. I think we can all agree these were the heroes, but they were also the people who stood up for their principles. Most of the people just went along. The worst of them, the ones who turned people in, were called Collaborators, but how different were they from the ones who did nothing? Of course, it was almost impossible to justifying sticking your neck out to support Free France - people's livelihoods and sometime their lives could be seriously damage. But I would say the it was mostly fear of personal hardship, rather than death, that drove people.

Life is hard, and most people don't feel like they have the luxury to stand on principle, even if it is for something really important. Especially if that something important has to do with the suffering of others. If we are safe, and comfortable, and okay, it is so much the easiest path to just go along with whatever injustices we happen to observe. We can feel pity, and a little guilt, for those who are suffering, but it is easy to feel those things. They don't take up much of our time, and are mostly forgotten, only occasionally seeping into our consciousness for a few moments, soon to be dislodged by our own selfish concerns and interests.

The French example is a big one, with huge consequences for the Resistance, the Jews, the gays, and others. But those relatively small injustices - against a small group, or just one person - are so prevalent in our lives. We walk by them every day, they happen to our friends and colleagues, and we see them, and we feel guilty, but it really is too much trouble to stick one's neck out, and besides, it's ultimately somebody else's problem.

We're all Collaborators. Every day.

Time

So I just closed Indulgences. It was a lot of fun, mostly (see last post). And now. For the first time since, gosh, 2003? I have nothing to do until March 9th. I mean, not literally nothing. I'm trying to scare up a directing job, I'm working my new idea (stay tuned), I'm trying to figure out how I'll put food on the table next year. But suddenly, I have all kinds of time. It's very weird.

Yesterday, I got the kids to school, messed around on the computer, went to the store, went to another store, picked up the kids, hung out with the kids, made Jalapeno margaritas (I marinated the jalapenos a little too long and the tequila was very spicy), made dinner, cleaned the kitchen, watched Caprica with my wife, and went to bed.

Today, I puttered around, went to the gym, went to the store again, picked up the kids, took Spencer to ballet, took Dashiell to swimming, and then I'll pick him up, take him to a friends house, make dinner, put the kids to bed, muck about on the computer, and go to bed.

So, yeah, I'm basically a house husband. It's so weird. But kinda good. I'm surprised that I'm not glummer and more bitter, but I'm trying to go with the flow. We shall see.

But I've spent the last god knows how many years rushing about, way behind on everything. Only on vacation, out in Missouri, did I ever feel like I had time. Now I have time, in the middle of life. It's kinda good, notwithstanding the horrible years that brought me this. Funny.

Comedy is Hard

We really felt like we were getting somewhere. Indulgences is a tricky play - definitely funny, but its balance of nutty randomness, standard oneliners and philosophical invention is hard to manage. But the last 5 or so shows we really started to chug along. Audience response was starting to get a least relatively reliable, and we'd had 2 or 3 really solid houses - thank heavens one of these included Wednesday night when playwright Chris Craddock came to see the show. This was, in fact, one of our best houses, and we left that night feeling like we had found the rhythm of this show.

Then Thursday came along. One of our biggest houses. And they sat there like stones. Like stones. And it wasn't like we were pushing, or playing for laughs. We were just doing our thing. And nothing was coming back. Even the ending, which in the early shows was the one place we could rely on getting everybody involved and laughing, they was chuckling and some grinning, but it felt like a house half the size.

And then Friday came. A fairly small house, which was surprising for a Friday night at the end of a run, but you never can tell. And they sat there. Like dead stones. Not only did they laugh at nothing, except in embarrassed pairs here and there. But they gave nothing back. The old joke, "is this an audience or an oil painting" was never truer. And again. No rhyme or reason to it. We weren't pushing. We were moving it along because we were getting nothing, I say nothing, back, but it wasn't rushed. We were talking to each other, playing the story. It's a good show. So where were they?

It makes me wonder if people know how to be audiences anymore. I'm not sure they understand that they owe something more to the experience than the money they put into the ticket. They are there to share. The event only happens when we make it together. And, yes, it's the performers' job to make it easy for them to enter the story, but it takes an act of will to say, I get it, this is the story we are making, let me get in on this. Sitting there, admiring the skill of the actors, or mentally critiquing the play, or waiting to be entertained, just doesn't cut it. When you go see a play, you need to hold up your end of the bargain.

Pretty Cool

We've been waiting for something to really grab us since Battlestar finished. Dollhouse was disappointing. Castle was a dud. Flash Forward had possibilities but hasn't really lived up to the mind-bending coolness of BSG.

So Caprica came along. Looking questionable, to say the least. The Pilot ran like two weeks ago, but we haven't had time to watch it until this weekend.

Well, it is very promising. VERY. It's all origins-of-the-cylons, and virtual reality and bringing the dead back to life, and promises, like BSG, to get into the "nitty gritty", as my current character likes to say, about existence, God, and the meaning of it all. Performances are strong. Eric Stoltz has aged very well, still pretty sexy. Looking forward to the next installment.

Check it out: