wallet woes

I was concerned for a bit that I had lost my wallet. Well, let me rephrase that. I had lost my wallet, and was concerned that I would not find it. It had disappeared sometime on Friday, which was an incredibly busy day for me as I was preparing for the dance concert at our studio. Nine of us had gone out for drinks after the show and that's when I discovered it was missing. Being the person to lock up the building, I spent some time searching for the wallet, but to no avail. I stopped at the grocery store (a store open 24 hours) where I had last used the wallet, but they did not have it.

Yesterday I spent the day preparing for/participating in/cleaning up from a birthday party.

Today I spent quite a bit of time mental running through a checklist of what I was going to have to do if I was not able to find my wallet (I decided that I needed to go back in to the office and search when I wasn't quite so tired). I checked both my credit cards on-line to see if there were any new or unusual charges, but the fact that there weren't didn't mean there wouldn't be.

A friend of mine in Los Angeles (some of you have seen him as a Jeopardy! champion) went through a long process of clearing his name after being the victim of identity theft, so I felt acutely aware of the potential problems I might face.

I had my wife drive me in to work and was extremely pleased to find my wallet in the very first place I looked. What a huge relief!

eight years ago today

Happy Birthday, Jeremiah!

(Yes, the cake was made to look like a bowling lane, with bowling pin candles.)

dancin' the night away

Tonight was the "showcase" for the summer intensive dance camp at the studio where I work. Seventeen of the eighteen girls who participated in the camp got a chance to present to their parents, family, and friends what they've been learning for the past three weeks.

While I am aware that the girls were in attendance at our camp based on a dance audition and only the best were invited to attend, I am still amazed at what these girls (ages 12 to 18) were able to accomplish. They presented 15 numbers in an hour and a half long program and every one of the participated in a flamenco, jazz, hip-hop, tap, and ballet number.

I work in the theatre, but it amazed me how well these girls could remember the step combinations to so many different numbers.

Needless to say, I thought the evening went very well, but am grateful that the day and the camp are now at an end.

the big cheese

I took the kids to Chuck E. Cheese's this evening.

What a great scam that is. The kids think they get to run around plopping Chuck E. Coins in to every gadget available, thinking it's all free, while we parents shake our heads and wonder why we ever agree to go to a place where we spend WAAAAAY too much money for items that we would otherwise be embarassed to give away in a birthday "goody bag."

I will say that it's gotten better since I reported a C.E.C. restaurant to the Better Business Bureau and to the Attorney General of New York. Not that I had anything to do with it, just coincidence, I'm sure.

tornado unfulfilled

This past Monday evening we had quite a storm happening over our small, rural town. If you, like me, can enjoy the beauty of nature even when it's those blackest of storm clouds, then this was really an incredibly, awe-inspiring sight. I actually sat on my back porch and watched the clouds move swiftly overhead.

Part of what made it most incredible was the multiple layers of clouds that moved in very obviously different directions. Those dark clouds that were lowest, closest to me, were moving swiftly from the south to the north. The brunt of the storm, with the biggest, blackest clouds were coming from the north and moving south-southeast.

And then I saw it.

I knew it was going to happen...had to happen. South-moving winds, met north-moving winds.

One of the lower clouds in the north-to-s.s.e moving winds, dropped low enough to get caught by the north-moving winds and I could see the cloud stretch back and curl around. And then it caught another cloud, and it, too, curled around.

Not more than a mile from me, holding over a neighborhood in town, was this half-mile-wide, beautifully formed circle of cloud, slowly swirling.

I called to my wife, not with fear or anxiety, but with excitement. "Look at that," I pointed. "I swear, that is the beginning of a tornado. Isn't it beautiful? Just watch!" And we did.

Perhaps I knew, deep down, that the winds weren't swift enough to create a damaging tornado, or perhaps, because I was watching it as it formed and mentally planning on where to get the kids if it became serious, I was never worried about it. Instead, I was absolutely awed.

For thirty, maybe forty-five seconds, this perfectly formed whirlpool of clouds circled over the town before the stronger north-to-s.s.e winds took over and blew it away

This was a vision that I'll not likely ever forget. How truly beautiful it was to see the beginning of something that could have developed into something devastating.

my old friend John, theatre, and puppets

One of my friends (and for a short time roommate) back in college was a gentleman by the name John. John and I were both very much involved in theatre, but we came at it from different perspectives. John, who was easily the most gifted director our school has ever seen, brought many plays and musicals to life as an undergrad -- some in school and some in the local community theatre.

But John liked linear works. A normal play (or even a musical) that was fairly straightforward.

I, on the otherhand, was a devotee of the Theatre of the Absurd. Eugene Ionesco was my theatre god. I loved talking about Alfred Jarry's Ubu plays, or the works of Ionesco, Pinter, and Jean-Claude van Itallie among others. John admits that he didn't much appreciate my work during our college days, but one of the greatest compliments he's ever paid me came about seven years after we'd graduated when he told me that he still thought about the production of Ionesco's The Chairs which I directed, and how he wished he could see it again because he was just beginning to appreciate that form of theatre.

It had been nearly eight years since I last saw John, but we got together for a few hours this past weekend while he was in the area visiting family. John is the theatre department chair at a smaller, private college in California, and has been the founding director of Lit Moon Theatre Company, AND for the last eight years (that's right, he waited until I moved out of the area) has been the founding producer of an international theatre festival which performs in Santa Barbera, California.

I asked John if he had been to our local Shakespeare festival while he was in the area. He answered quite flatly, "No. It's not weird enough for me." John, it seems, has come to value absurdist/experimental theatre. He is currently planning his 2006 festival which he tells me will be an all Shakespeare festival, featuring performance companies from China, Russia, Scotland, and Australia. At least one of these companies while be using 10' tall puppets, he said.

How could I not laugh?

I recently directed a play in a high school and made use of 9' tall puppets. Of all my acquaintances and friends, perhaps John is the only one who would appreciate that work.

I'm already making plans with my wife so that we can be in Santa Barbera in 2006 when the festival takes place. My wife has been trying to get me to go back out that way for many years (she goes out for work three or four times a year), but taking the kids to Disneyland hasn't held any allure for me. But an international theatre festival...?! ...with 10' tall puppets...?! I love it!

type

I have a secret fascination with fonts -- you know the look of the typeface on your computer screen. Perhaps it goes back to my time in high school when I showed more than a little skill with calligraphy and I owned (still do!) some very nice pen and ink calligraphy pens.

In any event, my computer is packed full with interesting and unique fonts and I keep hoping for the day(s) when I can sit down and get to work creating my own.

And so it was with some interest that I read an article in the NY Times about a font convention. You can read the article here. (Remember, if it asks you to sign in or create an account, you can get an account at bugmenot.com.)

home owner joy

While sitting in my favorite swivel chair on Friday night, watching my family play a boardgame, I started cursing at the kids. "Who left this water bottle lying on it's side!" I wanted to know. "My feet are soaking wet!" I declared.

The more I investigated, the more I realized that my wet feet couldn't have been a result of a spilled water bottled.

After much investigation, we discovered that the run-off hose from our central air conditioning unit was clogged and that a back-log of water found other ways out...mainly by running in to the carpeted family room.

We've purchased an expensive Shop-Vac, and may still need to replace some carpeting and pads.

What a frustration.

community theatre

Tonight I took the whole family to our local community theatre. This was a bit of a gamble as the play tonight contained some questionable behavior, language and themes. However, it also contained some hilarity. The show was DEARLY DEPARTED, an outrageous comedy.

I had to explain a few things to the kids -- the reverend at the funeral is late for, and has to exit early, the service because, as we learned earlier, he had visited a new Mexican food resaurant and was having a little digestion problem. Or, as I explained to one of my children...he has to go poopie really bad.

I was impressed with their ability to carry off the work. This was true community theatre effort -- no one on the stage has any aspirations to a career in theatre. They do this for fun. And as such, they did a great job.

Oh, and no...there was no standing ovation.

a father watches a child's dreams begin to fade

I watched my son playing a Pee Wee baseball game the other day. First, I will say that little league baseball is not taken anywhere nearly as seriously as it was in New York. In NY, my kindergarten aged son had many practices and they were drilled about the positions they were to play and how to cover a base, etc. etc. etc. Now that same son, going in to 3rd grade, is on a field where the entire field starts to converge on a hit ball. They still have a college-aged student pitching and a college-aged student catching (in NY t-ball we had kids putting on catcher's gear!).

My second thought was much more wistful. In his heart, my son is Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio, Hank Aaron, Rod Carew, and Harmon Killebrew all rolled in to one. He is the greatest baseball player ever. In reality, he is his dad. He is one of the weaker players on the team. He might swing eight times before he connects with the ball (and here in S.E. Minnesota, that is okay).

As a father, it's hard to watch a child start to realize that not all dreams will be fulfilled. I can see in his eyes that he is making the connection ... other kids hit better and farther...other kids aren't afraid of the ball when it's hit toward them...other kids throw farther and harder and maybe a little more accurately.

This is the hard part of parenting...when you're helpless. When there is nothing you can do for your child. He will make these discoveries on his own, but at this time, he's still young enough that he believes everything is possible (and I agree, it is), and he believes it is all possible for himself.

you can't change the laws of physics

It's not really a secret that I'm a "trekkie" or "trekker" or simply put, a Star Trek fan of varying degrees of obsessiveness from way back. Today I look at Star Trek as an old, reliable friend. When I want something familiar, but adventurous, comfortable but exciting, I might toss an old Star Trek episode in to the DVD player, or pick up one of the MANY (too many) novels.

Today I learned that one of the actors who had mde Star Trek so comforting to me, has died.

James Doohan, who played the irascible "Scotty" in the original series and movies, died yesterday at age 85.

Let's face it, Star Trek is one of those pop culture phenomenons that has managed to imbed itself in every day life. People who have never watched Star Trek are familiar with it. T-shirts, comedians, columnists still might proclaim "Beam me up, Scotty" nearly 40 years after it was first heard on television.

Another actor from that popular show is now gone. Even Scotty couldn't change the laws of physics.

critical

What is the role of a critic? What is the difference between a critic and a reviewer?

An on-line literary journal/blog asked the question today: is strong criticism necessary for a climate in which great art can flourish? Is it not true that when music history is written, one of the ways artistic movements are measured is by how critics wrote about the work?

I like the question. Does art flourish under strong criticism? Why do we empower critics to make or break an artist or a work of art? All of us who work in the arts have certainly complained about enough of them (the critics), so why are they given this power?

There's been quite a fuss over a reviewer/critic in the Chicago area who recently wrote in her reviews of WICKED, that she saw the schoolchildren's uniforms as being patterned after the clothes concentration camp inmates were forced to wear, and claimed that with the casting of an African-American actor "the Scarecrow is now revealed to be a lynched black man."

Certainly she has the right to interpret the show in any way she chooses (though it's extremely odd that no other person in the world has publicly written of similar thoughts [that I know of]), and thankfully WICKED doesn't need any more rave reviews to pack it's houses, but what of the rising artist who maybe only gets one shot and a reviewer who is famous for finding semitic and anti-semitic nuances where are none are intended and no one else has ever seen them, is the one to review the play?

Perhaps what we need for art to flourish is not more or better artists, but better critics to report on the art.

aural smog

In an essay in his book Songbook, Nick Hornby comments on one of the differences between pop music of yesterday and today. When we were teens, istening to music, we had to find just that right FM radio station, or purchase vinyl lps and listen in on the stereos in our bedrooms. Today the music is everywhere. He calls it "a sort of aural smog." What a perfect term.

I don't like smog. Even this aural somg, as Hornby calls it. As I have written before, I am filled with music of my own. I don't need everyone else's music interferring with mine.

Is it because the ability to play music anywhere and everywhere is easier that people do so? Or is it a lack of respect that people have today for their neighbors? Which is the initiator?

I still yell at my kids, as my father yelled at me, "Turn that down! The neighbors don't want to hear you!" But do the neighbors feel the same way? Instead of turning their music down, would they more likely turn theirs up?

And the aural smog is not just radios and cds and ipods. It's cell phone ring tones and phone conversations and the green cloud of foul language that has somehow become more acceptable in everyday conversation.

say it ain't so

Currently in pre-production, with an opening planned for February 2006, is THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE MUSICAL. That's right. A stage musical of Tolkien's tale.

It's currently got a budget of $25million, but has already generated $8million in advanced ticket sales. It's being produced in Canada and I belive is set to open in London. The music is by a Finnish team of composers.

I don't know. Perhaps it will turn out to be really phenomenal. But I do feel that our society can really take a good thing too far. Are we not satisfied? If we see something we like do we really have to reproduce it in a thousand different ways in order to get our fix?

Perhaps I'm mistaken, perhaps the producer(s) behind LOTR:The Musical really wants nothing more than to celebrate Tolkien's work with the musical homage, but something tells me that what it really is about is capitalizing on pop culture to make a buck.

sesquicentennial

Today was the last day of my town's Sesquicentennial celebration. It's been beastly hot, and the hour and a half long parade (probably the longest this little town has ever seen (they had the Budweiser Clydesdales for cripes sake!)) produced plenty of sweat.

The celebration isn't quite over. There's still the fireworks display in half an hour's time, but the goings-on have kept me plenty busy.

236

It's nearly two o'clock in the morning and I've just returned home, with my family and two of my daughter's friends. We've just come from a bookstore. That's right. A bookstore, at 2:00am.

Of course it can only mean that the sixth installment of the Harry Potter series has just been released. I was number 236 in the queue for those people who had reserved a copy (or copies) of the book.

While I won't get around to reading it for six months to a year, my nine year old daughter will have it read within the week.

I was glad we took in the event however. As I wrote in an earlier blog, I'm glad to see so much excitement over a book. Certainly it's tremendous marketing, as the books are really only average at best. But to get people excited for a book should certainly help the literary market in general. Is there a down side to have kids see so many people turn out and wait, eagerly, to purchase a book? One of my daughter's friends who went to this bash with us is a troubled reader. I don't know anything more than that she is getting tutoring help this summer for her reading. What a positive reinforcement I would think this was, for her to see the energy surrounding a book. I wonder if it was encouraging for her to see my daughter read an entire book (book "G" in the A to Z Mysteries series) while we waited (or was it discouraging because she couldn't do that?).

Congratulations, J.K. Rowling, on your success. Would that it were mine.

age

Christ, but I'm getting old.

Yesterday I stopped in at the optomitrist's to pick up my reading glasses. Me! Reading glasses! I've never worn glasses in my life.

It really is only for reading, and the doc said that it was my choice. I didn't necessarily need them, but they would probably relieve my eyes somehwat when I read.

Actually, to brag a little bit, the doc said my eyes were quite good still, but now that I'm on the other side of 40, I'm going to notice things (like eyesight) starting to slide away.

Certainly I have no objection to wearing glasses, most everyone I know does, it the idea that I'm slowly falling apart.

I've also noticed a lot more aches and pains in my joints. Stiffness in the knees and back. I try to deny it. Blame it on a poor night's sleep. But I can read the signs. I'm just getting older.

Oh well. Not much we can do about it.

on my own two feet

I attended the Great River Shakespeare Festival again last night, this time to watch Much Ado About Nothing. I must admit that I stood up during the applause, and not just to stretch my legs after the three hour show. It was easily one of the finest productions of any Shakespeare show I've ever seen.

My applause was not directed so much toward the actors, who were all just fine, but toward the direction.

I don't care for "modernizing" Shakespeare -- placing his shows in more current eras -- and this show was. However, it never once stood out. It never became about the modernization.

But best of all, this show (as well as Richard III) avoided the trap that I refer to as "Shakespeare-speak."

Shakespeare's writing has a very strong rhythm to it (some might call it iambic pentameter) and in nearly every performance of a Shakespeare show I've been to, the actors fall in to the trap of relying heavily on the meter and thus losing the sense of what is being said. Reading a poem for the rhyme and not the meaning.

There were occassions where the actors slipped in to that, but on the whole the GRSF have succeeded in bringing Shakespeare's plays to life. I didn't attend either of the plays in their first year...I've just seen too much mediocre and bad Shakespeare that I didn't want to sit through any more. And sure, people told me it was good, but these are people from the town whose only other theatre experiences are the two local colleges, so what would they really know? And so, I admit, I stood last night. On my own two feet. A standing ovation. For the director, the performers, the festival in general.

Oh yeah, and I'm from Minnesota, too.

stonehenge

It just amazes me that there are still so many new discoveries to make on this here planet. I'm totally amazed that there are things on this earth that are unknown to modern man...but capable of being known. Some bits of knowledge I've just assumed are lost forever, despite the hard work of archeologists.

I read today in an article that the quarry used for the stones at Stonehenge has finally been discovered. The Stonehenge quarry! That's kind of cool.

Of course the downside to this discovery is the obvious raping of the land at the quarry now to sell pieces of Stonehenge rock.

But that after these hundreds of years, someone could still make that discovery is fascinating. That people have been looking, is weird. That anyone really cares, is debatable.

Now what would be really interesting, and useful, is for someone to find out what happened to my missing socks in the laundry room!

in defense of my musical tastes

Although I don't feel that I need to "defend" my opinions on music and how I don't tend to listen to the lyrics much, I came across something which made me want to add to my earlier posts.

I'm currently reading Nick Hornby - Songbook, a collection of pop music reviews. The book was recommended in my friend K's blog. In it I came across these interesting passages:

"There is no doubt, though, that lyrics are the literate pop fan's Achilles heel. We have all lived through the shrivelling moment when a parent walks into a room and repeats, with sardonic disbelief, a couplet picked up from the stereo or the TV."

"I do not, despite (or possibly because of) my day job, pay that much attention to the lyrics of my favourite songs."

If a reviewer doesn't tend to listen to the lyrics, what does that say about a)the reviewer, and/or b)the lyrics?

He does go on to mention the witty, intelligent lyrics of Cole Porter, and I will admit that I probably could repeat some of the lyrics in many Porter songs (in part because I'm a bit of a theatre nerd and in part because they're worth knowing).

Mostly I just found it interesting that I'm not so alone in how I listen to music (though I admit I may be on the extreme). Thanks also to K and Mo for their supportive thoughts on music and lyrics. Kootch...I've always known you were much more into lyrics than I. Perhaps that's why, when we were in J. High, we were going to team up to write great songs -- you on lyrics and me with music.

performance moms

Mother's of children who participate in the arts don't have a very good reputation, and from those that I've met, I'd say it's deservedly so.

I'd like to think that mother's of children in the arts are only acting in a child's best interest, wanting the best for their child in order to help the child achieve his/her best, but I'm not sure that's the case.

Too often I get the impression that it is the mother who is living out a failed dream through the child, or that the child has already achieved greatness and nothing else is really good enough.

Today began a three week intensive camp for advanced ballet students at the dance school where I work. "Advanced ballet students." Those of us who've worked with these kids before can certainly read between the lines as "High-strung dance moms."

Only half of the girls I met today looked as though they had an interest in dancing, the other half had moms who had an interest in dancing.

reunion redux

This past weekend was a rather impromptu reunion for my family. Children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren descended upon my father's land from all four corners of the continental U.S.

Traditionally we have gotten together on the 4th of July weekend, for whomever could attend, but this is the first time in four years that we have had the complete turnout.

Surprisingly, for the most part, I like my family. Sure, there is the sibling that we talk about usually with a subtle shake of the head (and that used to be me until I got married), but I think that for the most part we have done the gene pool well.

Magic

In just over a week, some magic will occur. The publishing industry will experience a windfall. Children will be smiling. And for a day or two, there may be quiet in households around the world as a book is read from cover to cover.

Yes, the next installment of Harry Potter will be out next weekend. Yes, I have pre-ordered my copy (two copies, actually, as both my wife and my daughter want to read it right away). And yes, I think this is a good thing.

I just love the fact that we are teaching kids (and adults) that it's okay to get excited about a book. To create the pre-release buzz not unlike that for a movie, is wonderful. It could, and should, be good for all literature. Of course your book or mine is not likely to get even a fraction of publisher hoopla that HP gets, but the precedent has been set, and the audience prepared.

Are there books more worthy of the attention? Absolutely! And certainly the fact that this rather mediocre series gets so much attention raises the ire of many. But we do have to be honest here...while I, or you, or our friends may not think much of the HP series, there most certainly are a great many people who do enjoy it. And the popularity of books, like any other form of literature or art, is subject to personal taste.

Let's not begrudge the celebration of book. Instead let's revel in it so that we can teach the publishers and book-sellers that it's okay to this more often.

Why is quality derided?

On the recommendation of my friend Kootch, I've been watching, on DVD, a television show which was cancelled even before it really got off the ground -- Freaks & Geeks. Before that I watched another old, cancelled show, Wonderfalls, which I found to be quite unique and enjoyable. And with very little research, I'm certain I could go on and on, listing high-calibre, quality, intelligent, witty shows that get cancelled before they even get a chance to reach their audience. Why?

Why are quality shows so often cancelled from a network's run? Obviously these shows are having productive lives on the store shelves in DVD packs. People are talking about them and seeking them out.

I understand the nature of a business and that a network isn't going to lose money just to show a program that is good. They need to be able to sell advertising, and advertisers aren't going to pay great sums of moola for advertisements on a show that isn't reaching a lot of people. So where were all the fans of these shows back when it was originally aired?

Is it possible that people who appreciate high quality television don't watch television?

I really liked Wonderfalls and Freaks & Geeks, but I watch them, generally, about 11pm. That is when I have a little time to myself.

I'm a Trekkie from way back, and there was a time when I wouldn't miss a Star Trek show for anything, and I did enjoy Enterprise, but I can honestly say that I saw no more than ten episodes during it's run.

I don't make time to sit and watch a television show, and I wonder how many people still do. I am more apt to sit down when I have the chance, and see what's on. Mythbusters has been fun, but if I miss an episode, oh well. Coupling is probably my favorite show which might still be in production, but the scheduling on BBC America is so horrific, I usually just lok for the next season to come out on DVD (Coupling is the only show in recent memory that I have sought out in order to watch it at it's scheduled time).

So we seem to have a Catch-22. I want shows like Freaks & Geeks and Wonderfalls, but I am not likely to support them when they appear on the network line-up.

I know that there are things such as TiVo to supposedly help so we can record our favorite shows and watch them when we want, but heck, there's been VCRs for nearly 20 years as well, and I've found that I'm just not committed enough to television to make the effort. I think that in general, television, the medium, does not support quality programming. People are not likely to tune in to a program which makes them think or reflect. Some things, I guess, just have not changed.

books for school

In another blog, where I sometimes hang out, a friend has asked for some suggestions for books for his 10th grade English class.

I must be honest and admit that I don't remember what books I read when I was in 10th grade. My fondest memories of reading literature for school come from my university days. (The only book I can recall reading pre-college is A Light In The Forest, and that may have been all the way back to my junior high days.)

And so I wonder, does the book itself matter so much as the teacher? Could reading, exploring, and tearing apart a cheap romance novel be educational and fun? Louis L'Amour or Zane Grey? Isaac Asimov or Arthur C. Clarke? Mack Bolan or Don Pendleton?

While I was a voracious reader throughout high school, I realize now that I didn't truly learn to read until I was in college. Whoever would have thought that I could enjoy Madam Bovary as much as I did? Or Chaucer, or Faulkner, or Momaday? I'm not sure that you could convince me that it was the works, as much as it was the instructors, who asked the right questions, making me focus and think along the right paths, making the reading enjoyable.

Thank you M. Dorner, D. Robinson, and O. Lund for that. I hope that my high school English teaching friends can do the same for others.

4th of July

I've taken a break today, but I wish you all a very happy 4th of July.

future art

I attended a symposium this afternoon with a wonderful, witty, articulate woman named Susan Stout, who spoke about the importance of the arts in our schools (and how to get private sector funding to help support this).

What I found most interesting was that what she had to say (and she said it so well!) is exactly what I have said and blogged. That it is absolutely vital for our future that kids be exposed to the arts NOW.

She spoke about the importance of creative thinking minds in all areas of life. She kept referring back to her favorite question: Do you want the surgeon operating on you to be one capable of thinking creatively, or one who simply learned by rote through a textbook?

It was nice to having my own feelings about this reaffirmed in such a positive way.

reunion

I attended a reunion tonight for almnus members of the theatre group from my university.

What I[ve noted about reunions, or at the very least, myself at a reunion, is that no matter what I've been able to accomplish since I last saw these people. No matter what I've done, or been successful with, when I am together with these people, I seem to be no better or no more than I was when I last saw these people (about 20 years ago) -- a boring, pathetic, wimp.

Perhaps this is why I don't usually go to these kinds of reunions.

audio books

I don't normally listen to audio books -- I prefer the feel of a book in my hands -- but my appetite for words is such that I will take an audio book over no book on occassion, such as going for a lengthy car drive.

That said, I just finished listening to Life of Pi by Yann Martel. I'd heard quite a bit about this book, and decided it would be worth the listen on my drive to visit my friend Kootch.

I found the book to be quite boring and I wonder now if my reaction would have been at all different if I had read it for myself. I think that, in large part, my problem was with the reader, Jeff Woodman ("named one of AudioFile Magazine's 'Best voices of the century'" according to the cd jacket).

The story seemed droning and tiresome. Yes, I still have some questions about the story itself, but the story as I heard it never engaged me. I was never drawn in to the story the way one should.

I wonder if this might not hold true when we read stories, too. Do we ever read a book in the wrong way? Do we miss the inflections that an author intends?