My lovely, shiny white MacBook arrived a few minutes ago. Pulled it out of the box to look at it but will try not to power up until I get home. I’m supposed to be working here.
I love the name of the theatre fest in Chicago where my play will be produced:
Abbie Hoffman Died for Our Sins XIX
The website hasn’t been updated for this year’s fest yet, but a glance at the site will give you a sense of the undertaking. It involves over fifty theatre companies and individual artists. They begin with a five mile march that ends at the host theatre, and then the host theatre’s artistic director (playing Abbie Hoffman) starts the festivities. The whole thing was founded to recognize the 20th anniversary of Woodstock (hence the three-days-straight aspect of the festival), so that means Woodstock happened almost 40 years ago. Holy shit, that seems like a long time. Can’t wait to see where in that 72 hours my play lands. Let’s say it’s 3 in the morning – who’s going to be there?
The closest experience I’ve had to this fest is an event I worked when at my last job. One of our volunteers is a professional pianist, and he organized the performance of an Erik Satie piece that is nearly 24-hours long. [Rod, if you’re reading this, what is the name of the piece? I’m blanking on it right now.] It is the same two-minute-long phrase, over and over again. You have to play it a certain number of times, which works out to around 24 hours. We hauled a piano into the center of the Live Oak Friends (aka Quakers) meeting house, and people came and went during the 24-hour period. I worked the overnight shift and saw little action except for a local owner of a car dealership who showed up about 3AM with a couple of what I assume were hookers. All three were fucked up (they were in a limo, so at least they weren’t driving) and the dude brought his beer IN with him. Classy. They didn’t “get” it and left after about ten minutes. I’m not even sure how they knew about it. We must have gotten a listing in Cokehead Weekly.