NYC. Tony Awards. Good grief. I support the strike, but this is stupid. Theater is so fragile at the moment, and there was much unnecessary drama re allowing the Tony Awards to proceed; and, now, to discourage their own writers from attending a once-in-a-lifetime moment that is (really) NOT ABOUT the strike...is bananas.
I am losing my patience with the endless stream of pandemic and post pandemic 'righteous,' erratic, self-immolating decisions everywhere. (Sometimes, including mine!) NYC. I forget how insanely talented people are in this city. Glad we are getting a little more live performance these days. Get thee to The Slipper Room.
NYC. Mother's Day can be a very strange holiday for so many. Several people I know miss their moms and/or resent their moms, want to be moms, don't want to be moms — and just feel the weight of so much expectation and societal obligation. I have pretty mixed feelings about this holiday's significance. I feel like, as a culture, we both pedestal mothers and motherhood and then also rake moms over the coals, and often punish them for not fitting into idealized tropes. (I am not exempt from this). We 'motherize' the women in our lives all the time, too. We expect a kind of nurturing and ass wiping from women that we really do not expect from men.
All that said, I love my mom and do like to celebrate her. I got a special gift for my mom this Mother's Day. One of her favorite films is The Birdcage, written by none other than Elaine May. From one mother to another... |
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