Not Just a Day on a Calendar

As Americans enjoy their outdoor barbecues, ice coolers filled with beer and soda, fireworks displays, the prospect of a three day weekend, there are those that can be saddened a bit by how the celebration of the decision to enter a hard-fought struggle to wrench our freedom from the tyranny of empire has become a day of leisure, almost hedonism.
They flood YouTube and Facebook and MySpace with as much patriotic fervor as they can muster -- hoping to spark in their fellow Americans a sense of solemn remembrance and of gratitude. This, I find to be an admirable endeavor. Certainly, the blood spilled on American and foreign soil has preserved the rights that we are enjoying today. Whether that right is to enjoy a day off of work with one's family or to get blitzed on raspberry-lemonade flavored alcoholic beverages and pass out on your lawn, it is your right, and we should all be grateful for those rights.
My patriotism is, admittedly, of a slightly different kind. I view America, at 232 years old today, as very much still a work in progress. The liberty claimed in 1776 would still be nearly two centuries in finding its way to women, to African-Americans, and to many others in this country, and it still hasn't reached everyone.
Elected positions of duty in this country have become coveted (and often practically purchased) positions of power. Many Americans regard government as something apart from themselves, something untrustworthy and despicable, when, in its original design, government is supposed to be "of the people."
In spite of this, however, my patriotism is stirred by the fact that the bravery of our founding fathers in drafting and signing our Declaration of Independence is the bravery that still runs through our veins. The spirit that led a small black woman to refuse to give up her seat because of the color of her skin -- that spirit is still within us.
We have let it lay dormant for a while, but it is still there. Our congress, our judges, our disappearing governors are of our own making, but we have the ability to unmake them and re-make them as well. Margaret Mead was on the money when she said, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."
That is the American spirit of independence, and we owe it to the spilled blood of our ancestors to keep it alive.
Today, I would like to share with you a poem by Langston Hughes that was first published in 1938. I believe it shows how far we have come as a nation as well as how far we have yet to go, but most importantly, I believe that, if you read it closely, it shows that we not only can get there, but we will.

Let America Be America Again

By Langston Hughes

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek--
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean--
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home--
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay--
Except the dream that's almost dead today.

O, let America be America again--
The land that never has been yet--
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME--
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain--
All, all the stretch of these great green states--
And make America again!

The Thing's the Play

See what I did there?
Okay, maybe you don't.
Anyway, I was fortunate enough last night to see the opening of the Colorado Shakespeare Festival's production of perhaps the most oft-quoted play ever written, Hamlet.
I know that for most of you Hamlet conjures images of morose, suicidal angst. Essentially, it's the ultimate Emo experience.
What is often overlooked is just how witty and intelligent the script is. Shakespeare was a genius, remember, and this just might be his greatest work. (Now, I suppose I should warn you that there are a few "spoilers" ahead, but, really, don't we all kind of know the story?)
The advice that Polonius (played smartly by Sam Sandoe) gives to his departing son Laertes (Mat Hostetler) have become household phrases. Many people mistakenly attribute "neither a borrower nor lender be" to the Bible. This is the level of connection that modern society has to Hamlet.
It's a tragedy, yes, and it is sad, heartbreaking. The breakdown of Ophelia (Jamie Ann Romero) is horrific. The audience actually gasped.
Director Philip C. Sneed recognizes, however, that Shakespeare intended to keep us on our toes throughout. There is so much humor in this play, and that, as much as any of the soliloquies or plot twists, is the brilliance of the work. What is the tragedy of Polonius's demise if we don't first delight at his every entrance? Some of the impact of Ophelia's funeral is the guilt that we feel having just laughed hysterically at the morbid humor of the gravedigger (Gary Allan Wright). Hamlet is a rollercoaster ride. Sneed gets this, and the CSF production is the better for it.
Of course, the play Hamlet fails or succeeds on the strength of the actor playing the title character, and Stephen Weitz definitely does not disappoint. I don't want to say too much about Weitz's performance, because I really would like to let it be as much of a surprise and a treat for you as it was for me.
Hamlet is definitely worth checking out, piglets. Follow the link, you know the drill.

More Ways to Help

I got an e-mail from Scot today regarding Mary McGroary. A number of you got it as well. He has made up a flyer that has all of the donation information, so, if you didn't get the e-mail, and if you have a place where you can put one up (with permission - Mary's been through enough), e-mail me at badwolf1013@gmail.com and I'll send you the pdf file.
Also, The Candlelight Dinner Theater is donating 10% of the gross ticket sales for their Friday July 24th performance of The Wizard of Oz to help Mary. (Big props to Nick and Gina Turner for this.)
There is a plan forming for the accepting of non-cash items, but that still needs to be coordinated. I will let you know when I know more.
You can, of course, still send money either through PayPal to fundformaryandrosie@gmail.com or directly to:

Mary McGroary, C/O Bella Colore Salon,
3042 East 6th Avenue,
Denver, CO 80206

Based upon what I saw Sunday, Mary is pretty much starting over from scratch, so every little bit helps, and we can all help.

Henry's Analysis

I have been critical of the Henry's on this blog. I don't think that criticism has been unfounded or unfair.
I did not go to the Henry's. I decided on Sunday that my $20 for the ticket would better serve another cause.
I did monitor John Moore's updates from the Space Theatre on his iPhone, so I was able to follow what was happening.
First, I would like to offer my congratulations to all nominees and all winners. In particular I would like to congratulate Regan Linton of PHAMALY's Side Show for her Best Actress in a musical win. (Anyone who has followed this blog knows how fond I am of Miss Linton and how happy I am to see her work acknowledged.) I would also like to say "hats off" to Paul Behrhorst for Henry acknowledgement for Outstanding Stage Management. Paul is very good at what he does and demonstrates a competence that exceeds his years. (This honor was not part of the original judging process and came about as more of a "write-in" vote.)
Now for my analysis of the Henry's:

I have none.

There is not one thing that I could say here that I have not already said.
I am glad to see that the Henry's is changing their adjudication process, but, if they are still calling for citizen judges, then they appear to be about a month behind.
I have also seen nothing that suggests that the new process will be widening the geographic eligibility to the rest of Colorado. This is unfortunate, in my opinion.
As to the distribution of the honors last night, I will defer instead to one line in an e-mail from an out-of-town friend. (She had been monitoring my Tweets and Facebook updates and followed my link to John's play-by-play on his blog.)
"I thought that there were more theatre companies in Denver."
Hmm.

Rallying Cry

I surveyed the damage out at Mary McGroary's apartment today. There were a handful of us out there organized by the best friend a girl could ever ask for, Scot Sanders. (For a while there was also a guy who must have thought he was at the worst garage sale ever until we enlightened him to the situation.)
There was not much to salvage unfortunately. We spent a lot of time trying (without much success) to save photographs, continuously reciting the mantra, "everything else can be replaced."
And it can, but it won't simply happen with the wave of a magic wand.
Stop for a second and look around your house or apartment. Go ahead. This blog isn't going anywhere (this is Google, not Yahoo!). Look around. Now, imagine if you lost all of your stuff. All of it: books, cds, furniture, kitchen items, bedding, everything.
Now imagine that on top of everything else you lost your beloved pet.
I talked to Scot a little more about the full ramifications of the loss. Renter's insurance does not cover floods. It is not certain at this point if Mary is liable for the remainder of her lease or for any of the costs of cleanup or disposal. The Red Cross was able to offer only a couple of hundred bucks toward a storage unit.
The rest has to come from somewhere, and, since Mary is one of our own in the theatre community, I think that we should rally together and pool our resources. Now, we don't want Mary to end up with fifteen toasters and seventy-five soup ladles, so Scot said that he will start working on a list over the next few days. For now, money is the best way to help. All of that info is in my previous entry as well as on John Moore's blog.
I know that we're all tightening our belts a bit here, but come on, actors and directors: how much was your bar tab this weekend? Techies: cut your stash with oregano to make it last a week longer before you need to call "your guy."
I make jokes, of course, because I am a ridiculous and ineffectual man, and it's the only thing I can do.
However, you dear readers, can do so much more than I can. For one, people like you better. They do. They told me.
Rally the troops! Circle the wagons! One of our happy band of players is in need, and it's time to step up and do what we can.
It would be nice if there were a few generous patrons who would be able to help Mary out, but I think we all know that it's more likely going to come about by a lot of us doing a little.
Spread the word, people. We can do this.

The Hands That Help

. . . belong to us.
An actress working in Boulder lost her dog, Rosie, and all of her possessions in a flash flood during one of the recent Colorado thunderstorms.
You can read more here in John Moore's Running Lines blog, but the nuts and bolts are this:
Mary McGroary only has limited renter's insurance. The condo she was renting isn't covered for flood insurance. She lost everything and her expenses and liability are undetermined at this point.
She needs the help of a beneficent community. We are that community. We are the theatre community, and we take care of our own.
You can donate at PayPal to fundformaryandrosie@gmail.com. (For those of you unfamiliar with PayPal, John walks you through it in his blog.)
You can also send donations of cash and checks and/or notes of support to:

Mary McGroary
c/o Bella Colore Salon
3042 E. 6th Ave.
Denver, CO 80206

For non-cash donations or to find out when and where you might be able to offer a bit of backbone and elbow grease, please contact Mary's friend Scot Sanders at scot.david.sanders@gmail.com.

For you pet lovers out there, you understand that Mary's financial loss in this disaster cannot even be compared to the loss of her beloved companion, Rosie.
Please do whatever you can to help Mary through this time.

Missed Opportunities

I am sorry to say that wonderful performer and great guy Phil Gottlieb passed away early this morning. I am even sorrier to say that, while the "wonderful performer" part I can personally attest to, the "great guy" aspect is something I really only know second-hand.
I have witnessed on Facebook, on MySpace, and even in a call from a friend in Boston last night the great out-pouring of affection from the people who knew Mr. Gottlieb, and I have begun to feel a loss of my own: that, outside of one or two brief post-show exchanges, I never got to know this man who had such a significant impact in the lives of artists in this community.
Here is John Moore's article about Phil Gottlieb and his family.