Hotter Than a Pepper Sprout

This year my birthday fell on a Tuesday, just like it did on March 3 way back in 1970 when I was born. This little bit of calendar cosmicness has inspired me to think of the nursery rhyme that describes your character based on the day of the week that you are born on. According to this rhyme, as a Tuesday Child, I am "full of grace." Huh. This always makes me laugh.  "I am not what you would call a beautifully coordinated individual," as Chad's character Matt said in "Talley's Folly." Of course there are other definitions of grace that aren't just about physical movement. I do like the Google definition of grace as " an attractively polite manner of behaving." That sounds like something I can aspire to with a decent chance of success, as long as too much wine or whisky aren't involved.  I also enjoy astrology-based personality analysis.  I'm not sure the common stereotype of Pisceans as empathetic, creative, artistic, and...

It's a week into Lent, and I should give up blogging. I should be spending time on more productive and pressing pursuits (say, like learning my lines for a show less than 3 weeks away!) but blogging makes me feel a little less antsy. It gives me a sense of accomplishment and control, and my brain has hit line absorption capacity for the night (week?). I've never, past or present, observed Lenten deprivation, but I can see benefits that aren't tied to religious beliefs. Primarily it seems like a worthwhile exercise in mindfulness, and in being more aware and conscious about what I do or consume. And giving something up, even for a while, could make me more appreciative. I think I would also like the world to give up "Keep Calm" posters and whatnot for Lent. And summer. And Time.  Sound and compelling reasoning, but (at least right now) I like my "bad" habits and indulgences too much. I can even make a case that, especially as I get older, giving ...

Another holiday milestone: Chad and I just celebrated/experienced/endured our 25th Valentine's Day together. Our major festive activity was running the Valentine's Day TC 5K around Lake Harriet (so no, this was not the dash in your underwear down Nicollet Mall). Once again, I'm going to resort to a cliche because I can't think of any better way to say it: If you had told me 25 years ago that I would run a 5K in frigid (3 degrees Farenheit) temperatures I would not have believed you. I was definitely not a runner, or a jogger, or even much of a walker or mover back in my youth. The upside of that is I have really had no where to go but up. As I age, I'm not haunted by my past athletic glories. I was very obsessed with getting my race shirt. Sorry, but you are going to see a lot of this damn shirt.  These days, a 5K run isn't daunting, but I was totally freaked out about running in the cold. So why did we do this? This run is part of the TC Summit Challen...

I spent the last night trying to cram celestial knowledge into my head. And pissing off our household AI.  I wasn't really reading  Neil deGrasse Tyson or  even"Cosmos," but trying to learn lines for my next play and music for our next tribute band. Conveniently, these two things are thematically related. The next show that I'm in, a two-person play co-starring my awesome friend Debbie, is Lanford Wilson's "The Great Nebula in Orion." (Wilson is the amazing playwright who wrote "Talley's Folly.") We'll be performing "Orion" for the MACT (the MN Association of Community Theaters) Festival on March 20. The week before that, Chad and I are in a Twin Town tribute band for Big Star. So. Nebula. Star. Astronomy. Get it? Pretty   cosmic,   right? I've always been drawn to stargazing, at least in a casual way. When I was a kid, my mom used to read stories about the constellations to me (although never about Orion, as far ...

Today began and ended with contemplation about generational differences (and obviously, some coffee and red wine).  This morning, as I was cleaning out my e-mail, I came across this MPR story about "Millennials in Mourning" ( http://www.mprnews.org/story/2015/01/15/daily-circuit-young-grief ). While I had no intention of subjecting my gentle readers to yet another dead parent post, I had really strong reactions to this story, and thought I should perhaps examine them. What better way to shine a light on the dark recesses of my psyche than through my blog? Plus, I've been stumped lately about what to blog about, and as the saying goes, "write what you know." Who would put these lads down? I think this story hit me so hard because I wish I had been able to access these resources and support about experiencing grief when you're relatively young when my mom died. I'm actually annoyed and a little angry that I didn't. I don't think grief is ev...

I've never been much of a history buff. I usually only read historical fiction when I am forced to for work, and have little appreciation for period movies. Most of my knowledge of history comes from episodes of "Doctor Who" that involve time travel to the past. But this may all change thanks to the television show "Drunk History." I know all the cool kids have been watching Drunk History for a while, before it even became a Comedy Central series. I'm late to the party, having just binged-watched the first season while we were on vacation in Florida. I'm late, but very enthusiastic. "Drunk History" speaks to me on many levels, but particularly as someone who likes to drink and act. If you're not familiar with "Drunk History," it features comedians who study and learn a historical story of their choice, and then retell it when they are drunk. Their storytelling is filmed, and then actors re-enact their story, mouthing their d...

I don't remember getting excited about Santa as a kid, so I think I stopped believing in him when I was relatively young. My mom used to tell the story of how she once overheard me say to my sister "I don't believe in Santa anymore, but we need to pretend to because Mommy still does." I do remember discussing the merits of Santa vs. the Easter Bunny with a friend in elementary school. In this grade school philosophical discussion, I opined that Santa seemed much more believable because he was actually human and he was a better assistant for Jesus. So maybe I did believe in Santa longer than I think, but he just didn't make a lasting impression. (Or at least a positive impression. In at least two Christmas specials from my childhood — "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" and "Twas the Night Before Christmas" — Santa was a total jerk). Read Chad's full column I will admit that I am a little mystified by, and yes, jealous of, chil...