The Fertile Ground Festival—that fun and frantic, art-filled, 10 days in the cold and dark of late January, long after the leftover eats, drinks, light and joy has worn off—is coming and as always, I’m getting busy with it. I’m the Producer for PDX Playwrights—a local playwrights group that produces marathons of staged readings. This year we feature 19 playwrights and 26 plays. Our calendar has a little different look, schedule-wise with one marathon Sunday of shows, (Jan 25) a Friday Night (Jan 30) and 2 Saturday nights (Jan 24 and 31.) But it still has the same easy venue—Hipbone Studio at 1847 E. Burnside (lot off NE 18th.) It still offers a great way to support your local playwright (choose one, many, or all of our 7 theatre-adventures for only $10 apiece. And it still offers playwrights a chance to share our new work with actors and an audience to see what’s working and what’s not.
That’s where you fit in. The audience is now the most important part. All the playwrights have cast their shows and are scheduling all the rehearsals. Bring yourself and all those you care about to laugh and cry with us in a nice warm space near fun local bars and restaurants. Tickets go on-sale January 1. Passes can be purchased now, seats reserved January 1.
I have 3 shorts among this year’s pieces. Come see our first time ever Daisy Dukes Shorts Night at Fertile Ground and laugh at Bird First. (Jan.24 at 7 pm.) Then come around next weekend to our closing show, Short and Sweet, which will include Those Bastards and We’re Just Stuffed (Jan. 31 at 7 pm.) And don’t forget the wonderful shows in between. If you buy yourselves a Festival Pass for Festivus (the best damn deal in Portland at $50 for more theatre than any tushie can sit) select PDXPlaywrights to receive the most-beloved kick back and reserve your tickets.
Isn’t it nice to be wanted?
I rarely hear from a guy who lives within 15 miles of me AND posts a picture AND is less than 35 pounds overweight AND I could even start a cup of coffee with. I know, these items wouldn’t seem to form such an insurmountable hurdle, but they do. And then the messages from these fella’s … well maybe they have a different definition of lovely than I do. These guys give clear signs that they haven’t read any part of that profile. At worst they’re evil scammers. At their most innocuous they’re probably drunk and lonely.
Most of these [Google] results were asshole tests—no we’re not talking hemorrhoid diagnostics. I guess people need to find out if they are assholes. I mean that seems natural; I know plenty of assholes and I don’t think they know they qualify.
He’s fervently clutching every damn bag he ever ran across, while espousing a devil-may-care approach to life. He calls himself sensitive and talks about intimacy but he’s ever so well defended against it.
My fun is in highlighting annoying, weird, crazy stuff that really happens. (Actually, I’m more focused on routine misses and reveals.) Since I’m almost at the end of my patience for this week, let me just get this off my chest:
It was a hopeful sign of family Sunday mornings to come: mornings filled with stinky fish and family love.