Guilt, love, and context

My husband and I went to see comedian John Fugelsang's Drama-League Nominated Off-Broadway solo show, Guilt: A Love Story, last night at the Neptune Theatre in Seattle.

Since I've been following Fugelsang's career and social media activities for some time, I knew the show was going to be both hilarious and touching. He intertwines the story of his parents' rather unusual courtship (a nun and a Franciscan brother conduct a chaste exchange of letters between New York and Africa for 10 years), his own courtship and eventual marriage to long-time girlfriend, designer Charmien La Framenta, and a few of the highlights of his career that include an energetic re-enactment of his confrontation with American Nazi/KKK leader David Duke on Bill Maher's Politically Incorrect into a compelling and astonishing performance that defies most of what we have come to expect from the frequently self-indulgent artform known as the "one-man show."

He even good-naturedly nods to that popularly held conception of solo theatre as he begins, then shatters all expectations with an excellent story, beautifully presented. Agile, both physically and intellectually, Fugelsang moves through time and space like a cat who has already figured out Schrödinger's game, crapped in the box, and split for the coast. Hands-down smarter and funnier than just about anyone else in the entertainment industry today, he manages to pull into his tale such unexpected elements as the Biblical story of Onan, President James K. Polk's motivations for going to war with Mexico to take California, and Jeb Bush's passionate embrace of the prison industry in Florida.

For two hours, Fugelsang held us in his palm. He cracked us up, made us cry, and left us renewed. He delivered catharsis, the truest test of live theatre, in my book.

After the show, after two kinetic hours of impassioned storytelling (and some of the best acting I have ever seen, quite frankly, and I have seen a lot of good acting over the years), Fugelsang stood at the door in the theatre lobby like a pastor in the vestibule, shaking hands and taking a moment for photos and small talk with audience members as we spilled out into the damp Seattle night.

We stopped. Damon introduced himself and shook Fugelsang's hand. I asked if I could hug him, and he agreed. He was kind and genuine and I am even more impressed with him after seeing him live. If Guilt a Love Story is coming to a city near you -- even if that means you have to travel a few hours by plane, train or automobile to see it-- do so. You will be glad you did.

Ten Years After

As the anniversary of that day approaches, I struggle to find the right words to express the complex jumble of thoughts and emotions I now associate with the events of 9/11/2001.
Last year, I wrote simply and honestly about what I remember. And, yes, in doing so I was making a characteristically sardonic observation on the miserable state of un-civil discourse that paints much of American politics and the so-called news.
This year, I want to be more direct.
I want to be less cynical and, perhaps, a bit more radical.
I want to ask everyone I know to dig deep into your memories of that day and the weeks that followed and remember just exactly how you felt about other Americans, regardless of their race, religion, or politics.
Can you do that?
When I think back to that day and to the days that followed, one image rises in my consciousness more than any other. Not the moment of impact. Not the plumes of smoke filling the sky. Not even the mangled steel and rubble. It is the sky above us all, blue and cloudless. Limitless, endless blue sky, unmarked by clouds or contrails, a powerful symbol of hope and possibility.
For a while, under that sky, we Americans showed the world and ourselves that we were made of better stuff. We came together as a nation to repair and to comfort, to salvage and to rebuild. Those weeks following 9/11/2001 may well have been our finest hours, the best America we could ever be, if only because we stopped fighting amongst ourselves over petty, political differences and focused our attention on getting the right things done.
Can you remember that?
If you need a reminder, take a moment to read President Obama's Weekly Address "Coming Together a One Nation to Remember."
Now, can we come together as one nation again to get the right things done? Isn't that really the best thing we can do to honor those who died and those who served?