Before I get too deep into this post, I will first mention that the Jays have outperformed expectations, and clearly there is a decent chance they will win it all. That would be pretty exciting, and, while I don't really care in my heart of hearts, I would prefer that they win (and give the Orange One something else to sulk over).
There have been a lot of celebrity deaths, and certainly quite a few major losses among jazz musicians, including John DeJohnette. I saw him play at least three times (including once with Herbie Hancock!) and possibly another time or two. And a few months back, Hermeto Pascoal passed away, though I am less familiar with his work and never saw him play. I was saddened that Prunella Scales also just passed away, though she had been suffering from dementia for some time. I had seriously planned on doing a mini-marathon of Fawlty Towers, but I forgot how wound-up and high-strung they make me, and I just couldn't do it. Maybe if I have a longer break over the weekend I'll try to watch a few.
Anyway, there are a number of other things I can discuss, but I would like to briefly write up the Stratford trip last Sat. I biked down to the office and parked my bike, then changed my t-shirt (at the office actually) and walked over to the bus stop. I wanted to travel as light as possible, so I basically only had my tickets, a book (Auto-da-Fe), my phone, glasses, an apple and some chips. The bus was pretty well packed, and I ended up next to an older man who had a long phone conversation before finally hanging up and then texting the rest of the trip! I made some progress on the book, though not as much as I would have if there hadn't been so much chatter on the book.
The truth is I don't really like this novel very much, and I probably should just drop it. I wasn't all that interested in the main plot about an eccentric book collector and his housekeeper, who after marrying him, takes an outsize interest in his bank account and whether she is in his will, and ultimately drives him from the house. This was unpleasant enough, but then he ends up in the hands of petty criminals, and the point of view shifts over to these shiftless crooks. It just really drags in this section for some reason. I'm sure it's just my mind making weird connections, but somehow this portion of the book reminds me of The Seven Madmen by Roberto Arlt, though not handled quite as well. I'll try to finish it up, but this is just not really my cup of tea...
We made pretty decent time to Stratford, unlike the last time I went late in the season and was completely snarled up by the marathon or some other race that closed down a bunch of streets. I debated between the Thai place I usually go to or a burrito place, which was a lot faster (and cheaper). I decided to get the burrito (a sweet potato and black bean burrito) and eat it while wandering around town. The leaves had really started turning red and orange in this part of town.
I starting thinking whether I would ever write up my script for "Stratford" where I would focus on the issues of being a bedroom community for Toronto artists (with still substantial numbers of American tourists) and being a small Ontario town. Not quite town and gown conflict but along the same lines, with some of the high school students really falling in love with all aspects of the theatre. I think it is somewhat unlikely. Anyway, I did wonder if it might be better being a comedy set in a Stratford bed and breakfast (the Bard's B & B), though that would be limiting in some ways and would set up inevitable comparisons with Fawlty Towers (where I would fail miserably). This actually was a couple of days before the news hit about Ms. Scales's passing. I think probably the first idea is better (though itself would suffer when compared to Slings and Arrows) and maybe there is just one episode where one of the main actors has to spend a couple of nights in a bed and breakfast -- and hears all about how much the company was hamming it up.
Unfortunately the "mall" where I bought the burrito didn't have any public restrooms, so I decided to walk over to Tom Patterson Theatre, as there is a place nearby with public washrooms. Those were locked for the season(!), but I was able to go into the arena and finally found a washroom that was open. If I ever do work more on this series, I would probably swap the hockey arena for a curling rink.
I found out that Art in the Park was no longer running due to it being so late in the season, so I just started walking back to the Studio Theatre. It was sprinkling a bit but it wasn't too bad, so I didn't sprint back. I had thought I might drop in at the other bookstore right next to the Studio Theatre, but apparently that has been shuttered for many years (before 2019). I think I did go in once or twice but never bought anything there.
It wasn't too long before the Goblins arrived.
This time around they were recruiting people to serve as the chorus. These people got quite the workout. I'm really not that big into audience participation, so it is just as well they didn't ask me to do it.
I enjoyed this a lot, though it wasn't such a radically new thing as Goblins Macbeth was. One of the most amusing running gags was that one of the Goblins wanted to put on some version of the Christmas story and he often managed to include Christmas carols or snuck in lines from A Christmas Carol or even The Grinch!
There are four more chances to see it between now and Friday, but you clearly don't have a lot of time. I still have some hopes that this will land at Tarragon, and I would go see it again.
Since the whole show, including a post-play dance party takes just about 90 minutes, I had a lot of time to kill before the bus back to Toronto. I wandered back over to Shoppers but they didn't have any single-serve ice cream! So I went to another place and just got over-priced ice cream, then hit the dollar store, and then went over to the Avon to wait for the bus. It was much, much less crowded on the way back, and I had a seat to myself. Unfortunately, the traffic was pretty bad, and the bus driver ended up taking the 401 (rather than the 427 to the Gardiner) and dropped most of us off at the Lawrence West station where we could just get on the subway. So all in all a good outing, even if I (yet again) didn't get as much reading in as I had hoped.
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