Reading Plays on Drugs

Dosed up on painkillers today. Ugh! My brain feels like it's coated in mud, but my neck hurts less. Today has been a blank kind of day. I haven't accomplished much other than sleeping, taking pills, and sleeping. It's difficult for me to stop when my body says stop. No yoga today. Body said no yoga.

I did get a play read. Good People by David Lindsay-Abaire. (I'll have to put links in on Monday when I have access to a computer and Internet. I'm still posting via 3G on the iPhone.) The play is excellent, unfortunately I don't think it will fit our season for the community theatre. I hate having to pass on a good play because it won't "sell". I would love to do this script. But a drama about a woman who loses her job at the dollar store because she's late too many days because the sitter who takes care of her severely retarded adult daughter doesn't show up, who then meets a successful man who she dated in the old days and begins to beg for him for work and harass him. And he knows that kid is his but he was so bent on getting out of the hood that he never stopped to take responsibility. And there's more than that, but ... It won't sell.

Art is like that. It may be wonderful and truthful and beautiful, and in spite of all that, it may not belong. God, I find that depressing.

The characters think they are good people. He thinks he's successful because he's good. She thinks she's stuck because she's good. And the truth is both of them made crap choices and neither of them wins the gold medal for being good.

It certainly fits with the political debates of the time though. Haves vs. have nots. Women's issues. The American dream. Unemployment...

Now it's time to take more meds and read The Spiral Staircase.