Suicide in Bb - The Review

Suicide in Bb by Sam Shephard
Playing Thursday, Friday & Saturday @ 8 p.m.
October 20th - November 16th
Runtime: Approx. 80 minutes, no intermission

The Hayworth Theater
2511 Wilshire Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90057

Tickets:
Plays411
www.plays411.com/suicide
or 323-960-7740

$20 General Admission
$15 Seniors/Students/SAG & AFTRA & AEA Members
$30 Opening & Closing Nights (catered)

Sam Shephard, a product of the Pasadena City College and a Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright, is one weird mother. Often, you are hard pressed to figure out whether his statements are as odd or otherwise anachronistic as they appear -- or just merely ironic. The play is a tough one, dealing with the dark side of fame, the inescapability of fate, the heredity of madness. Do you need to kill yourself to live? Could you stop yourself?

(Sam Shepherd, interestingly enough, shares a similar name with Dr. Sam Sheppard, the doctor accused of bludgeoning his pregnant wife to death. That is, the plot line behind “The Fugitive.” Dr. Sheppard died in 1970, while the playwright Shepherd still draws oxygen.)

The play is alternately subtle and aggressive, always demanding your attention. Many of the plot lines are ambiguous, but seem to be purposefully so. The acting is riveting, and production quality is top notch. The main feature of the set -- a cutout of a prone figure -- draws your eyes and sets the tone of the piece.


This rarely performed play has the feel of a riff, a series of notes put together, almost at random, that pull together to create its whole. It is a trick to give this piece the discombobulated overtones it requires without driving its audience nuts. Fortunately, the actors and director were clearly up to the task, and it works. It confounds, but not to the point of distraction, and gives you the tools to make up your own mind.

Strange Day

It’s been one of those days where I’ve been feeling, well, restless. I get this way from time to time, often enough that anyone that knows me much at all knows to ignore it. Despite this, or, more likely, because of it, I need to write, and write I shall. Topic A on the brainwaves this eve is MY CAREER.

For six years, I was a member of the fourth estate... laughingly referred to as “the working press.” About four years in, I took a hiatus of sorts to get my master’s degree in journalism from the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism. Damn fine school. I hope to, one day, make enough to contribute generously to the alumni fund... If only to reimburse the poor school for all the postage costs they’ve sent since 2003, pleading for said donation.

Following the degree, I spent another two years honing my craft until, well, I hit a brick wall. My job was not fulfilling me, either personally or professionally, and I was feeling wood-fired crispy. I checked out, and decided to try and make a go of it as a photographer, something that had been my passion since college. I did it for about four months, with my main client being the newspaper I had just left... I guess there is something to be said for leaving on good terms.

But I was broke. I didn’t have the skills, the contacts, the knowledge or even much of a portfolio. Writing clips will only get you so far as a photographer. Usually just the door, and not the one marked “in” either. So I took a job, the full-time employ I currently hold, as an investigator for the LA City Ethics Commission. It’s a hell of a lot slower than journalism, something which drives me to continual distraction.

And, though many of the things I do during the day remind me of my previous life (e.g., making phone calls, figuring out connections, getting scolded by lawyers) it is DECIDEDLY not journalism. I write things few people outside my boss read; cases sometimes take six months to a year to progress from investigation (i.e. me) to prosecution (i.e. my bosses); I am severely curtailed in what I can write for public consumption... Hell, I have no idea if this very blog would be frowned upon.

Basically, this job is not me. However, for the first time in my professional life, I am not going home twisted in stress three nights out of five. I have ample time off, sick time and vacation. I am paying down my debts, since my salary is actually close to what someone of my education and training should make... I am actually saving (for the first time) for my retirement.

The age-old question, right? Security or dreams? And, damnit, what am I dreaming about? That, though, will be a topic for another posting. I’m getting tired. Thanks for reading.

Random City Thoughts

The Department of Building & Safety has the second-worse hold music in Los Angeles. The music is Casio-keyboard Reggie. I’ve heard better ringtones. The city-crown for worst hold music, though, must go to the Los Angeles Daily Journal, which repeats, ad nauseam, “Fur Elise” in monotone chimes.

Earlier this week (10/3), I chatted with a man who pointed out, with a degree of awe, that Mayor Antonio was doing a television interview outside City Hall. Seeing as the mayor and I work in the same building, I got a far larger charge out of the fact that the man was part of a crew filming “The Nine.” When you work in politics, the entertainment biz seems very cool; I had no idea that the opposite was also true.

Bamboo will grow, nay thrive, in a windowless office, neglected by its owner. What kind of devil plant is bamboo, anyhow? And is it bad luck to have an even number of stalks, or odd?

If an unwritten rule falls in a forest, does it create a policy? Is there a memo involved?

Stephen & Julia

These photos were taken during the wedding of Stephen & Julia, which occurred on Sept. 23, 2006. In fact, I blogged a touch about this in “Far Too Long.” However, I ain’t done... I wanted to share a few of my favorite photos from that event.

But first, about Stephen and Julia: they rock! The party they threw was an incredible amount of fun. They really made me and my assistant, Tracy, feel like we were not just there to do a job. The flowers were great, the lighting was wonderful, the band was a kick.

You can also really see the joy in their eyes... They really fell for one another, and will certainly have a long and happy life together.

Dan Vs. The Master Cleanse *

Following a day (nay weekend) of drinking, general tomfoolery and excess, I have decided to begin today on something called The Master Cleanse. It involves consuming nothing but lemon juice, maple syrup and cayenne pepper for a recommended 10 days... Well, there is one another ingredient: a healthy helping of laxative tea. It seems completely nuts, but since I’m continually open to new things, I thought I’d try it. The photo above of me at a kilt (taken at the Highland Games in Ventura over the weekend) should prove just that.

I got Donna to play along, at least for awhile. She, however, is very concerned about the alarming instructions that one “be close to a toilet.” As a teacher, Donna has rather limited abilities to make emergency runs. My work, as a photographer/mid-level bureaucrat, has far more leeway in this regard.

The photo to the left depicts my morning, afternoon and evening meals for the immediate future. It tastes, as advertised, rather good. The cayenne pepper, so far, has been making me cough a bit, but otherwise, it’s just fine. Of course, it’s all of 9:30 a.m. on the first day of this faintly ridiculous experiment.

So, what follows from this is a daily log about my feelings, experiences and temperament while on this bizarre crash diet called “The Master Cleanse.”

MONDAY - 180 lbs., Feeling Good

I made a batch of the mixture for myself and Donna, using a bunch of lemons I bought for the purpose at Trader Joe’s. Now, as instructed, these are organic lemons, which are small, hard and not very juicy. It took the better part of a half-hour just to squeeze a half-cup out of the damn things. I believe I will be forgoing the “organic” label, and jumping straight for the big frankenfood lemons when I get to the store later today. Also, man, is there a lot of cayenne in this thing! My nose is sweating and my eyes are beginning to run. (Put that images back where it belongs.)

Though I do feel a touch heavy these days, the myriad of website regarding the Master Cleanse (or “The Lemonade Diet”) continually warn that this is not supposed to be a weight loss technique. Though you will lose weight on this diet (duh), it will not stay off, as the majority of the weight is, well, water weight, which will be gained right back. We’ll see.

I believe the most difficult part of this whole exercise for me will be staying away from coffee. Going out will be a pain, since I’ll be somewhat embarrassed to tell my friends: “Nothing for me, thanks. I’m on a fad diet used mostly by New Age hipsters and tweens with eating disorders in Silver Lake.” However, maybe if I take the ribbing, I’ll learn something about my friends and myself (cue the “Fat Albert” music here.)

And, away we go.

First thought: I”m feeling a touch woozy, actually. I wonder what that’s all about. Further bulletins as events warrant.

Now it’s the afternoon, and I’m feeling a bit better. It does feel weird not to have eaten anything today. I’ve heard that people really miss the sensation of chewing as much as anything. Personally, I think it’s going to be difficult to avoid the social awkwardness of not eating/drinking. It seems like it’s more of a diet on one’s social life than anything else.

TUESDAY

It’s over. I felt awful... Donna and I both had the worst headaches all day long, I was continually running to the bathroom. One of my coworkers, Shannon, told me that “of course you felt that way... you were getting toxins out.” Well, damnit. I love my toxins. I’m going to have a big glass of toxins right now.