Peter P, Marc Hollander, and Coti K. listen earnestly to “cabin in the sky”
DECEMBER 31, 2003
urbi et orbi pope guido speaks
Oh, my friends, it grieves me. It grieves me so. Here some…3? 2? MONTHS! Have passed without a mundoblaineo update from me. Not to mention that the site itself languishes in neglect, covered with pixellated dust, reeking of cybernetic mildew. I beat my breast in remorse. I wail. I gnash my teeth.
Not only that, but the year is turning! 2003 becomes 2004 tonight and what will you do about it? What CAN you do about it? More on this later. What, you may ask, has old Blaine been up to all this time!??
First off, the play in which I played, strutted and fretted many hours upon the stage has come to a merciful conclusion. This was a tough one, folks. “Danton’s Death” faded off into theatrical history on the 2nd of December.
I should tell you that we had to interrupt play one memorable night for a bomb scare. Yes, folks, someone took the trouble of calling the Athens police to tell them that they had planted a bomb in the Theatro Amore. Just as I was getting ready to put down my baglama, rush backstage and change into my queen Victoria ballgown for the drag scene, the stage manager came in and turned on the lights. “we must evacuate the theatre” or words to that effect. We trooped out onto the sidewalk, some of us still in costume and makeup, others smarter, in street clothes, watched the audience fade into the night, waited as the police sent bomb-sniffing dogs into the theatre and then we buggered off home.
This was shortly after we had our power failure. A scant two nights before the bomb threat we played the thing out by battery-powered emergency lighting. It went fairly well until the last bit where we sang a Beethoven song “Rasch Tritt der Tod”. Without the digital piano to guide us four act-ores we had no idea where the tonal center lay. No, not even I. it sounded like the Schoenberg version. Or maybe 4 guys listening to walkmans singing along to 4 different songs.
During the run of danton, the intrepid Peter Principle and Marc Hollander came down here to Athens to work on the mix of the new Tuxedomoon CD. The title of this remains a state secret. We had some halcyon sessions in a pleasant little studio near the local river. We would take a break from our intense labors to chow down on some magnificent Cretan food. Truly marvy, gang.
Of course, much has been seen, said, felt, consumed, stapled and mutilated which will never find its way into these letters. That is as it should be. Suffice to say that 2003 was, by and large, a pretty good year for me. I have been working like 10,000 dogs (to quote a dear friend of mine) and that is marvelous. what joy to feel the jingle of change in my jeans! i’ve heard of that…money.
Let us try to forget for a while the march of the fascist morons intent on screwing up a perfectly good world with lots of fun things to do. Hell with ‘em. We can only wish that george bush and his brown shirted thugs and their cousins on the other side of the holy war would just zap off to hell in a foul-smelling cloud. No such luck. We have to endure their presence. No question about their reception in hell. George W. Bush has a private room already booked. The world situation is pretty scary,though. I hate to admit that I am more concerned about my mp3 collection. I guess when the new world orderlies come to the door to machine gun my old bones I will become politically engaged. It will be too late, though.
But serially, folk. we surely don’t have to wait for the worm to turn to live like free-thinking people. We can make every effort to do so now. and…um… I forget. What’s on tv, George?
I will close. I wish each and every one of you, my precious little love bundles, a simply scrumptious 2004.
Ta ta for now