At a One-Act Reading

Play: The Final 45 Minutes of the World at a Coffee Shop

Strange throwback at the moment. I decided to go visit Haehnel, drop off the book I picked up for him while I was in Chicago.

It’s so STRANGE being back here. I got here a few minutes before school ended, and I caught the tail end of theatre arts. In observation: actors are actors, through and through, no matter what age, or how good they actually are. Or maybe it’s just that I’m out of this circle of people (actors… high schoolers). Either way, a lot of what they say I can’t even make out. It is gibberish, spoken quickly and mumbled, slurred. And then they get up on the stage and are suddenly in “stage mode”, everything enunciated carefully.

And of course, they are all unsure what to make of me, some weird older person who Haehnel seems to know that is now sitting in the second row, stage left, typing on his little device thinger (my PDA). They look at me strangely, but will not speak.

Strange, strange life this is. Where are the crew? Where is the backstage presence in this new, strangely familiar yet alien environment?

Bah, maybe I’m just wistful. Maybe I’m just looking for a younger me, to make my life seem less anomalous for this place. I dunno. I think that may be way I keep coming back, keep coming to support the one act and the musical, giving money and attending the shows. The One Acts of Hartford is an integral part of my life. They have helped me become who I am,far more than many other things.

It seems that the last of the people I once knew graduated last year. I really am done here,except for teachers. But technically, shouldn’t there be one more class? The freshman should now be seniors? No, wait, my math is wrong. 98-99 was my senior year. Then 99-00. 00-01, 01-02, and now we are in 02-03. So yes, they all graduated last year. Harumph.

There are so many other places I could be right now, other things I could be doing. And yet I remain. What a nostalgic fucker I am. (Yes, I could rationalize and say that I am supporting something I believe in, and feel was the one redeeming attribute of the school system I went through, but there really isn’t much point.)