POUNDING THE PAVEMENT WITH PAULA POUNDSTONE

Bill and I went to the Paula Poundstone comedy concert at Centennial Hall in the University area. She was absolutely eccentric and witty and humorous and interesting throughout the entire 2 hour show. Her interactions with audience members were bright and teasing but never personal or mean.

So afterwards I told Bill I had to pee (i hadn't gone for the entire performance). He said it would take too much time because the lines would be extraordinarily long. i said that isn't necessarily true since we were no where close to the lobby and it would have taken us about 10 minutes minimum just to get where there MIGHT be a bathroom line. Besides when i went to the bathroom prior to the show, there was a bathroom stall monitor (i've never seen one before) who guided the ladies to the open toilets by yelling out numbers, as in "ok, #3 is clear"; "get ready for #7". and this bizarre support really speeded up the process.

But even after i told Bill this, he insisted with a firm grip on my elbow that he was going to get me to a bathroom faster and i could trust him (famous last words). So we left the hall and immediately started walking the wrong way only neither one of us knew that until we had walked about 15 minutes. By this time I am at a Pee 12 (on our spousal scale, this means radioactive leakage danger time.) and bitching at him.

finally he stops and says he has no idea where we are (highly unusual for Bill who has excellent spatial sense). So we head to the only lights around; a small market which was really a drug house and gathering place for the dispossessed and mentally ill. The proprietor said we could use the bathroom but it was occupied. and yes it was, for the NEXT 13 MINUTES. I am having chills and bladder spasms at this time. Finally, the door opens and a newly heroin injected Walmart-body-shape-fat lady trundles out in a venomous cloud of the stinkiest shit i've ever smelled.

After this experience, we spent another 15 minutes hitting all quadrangles of the campus before something looked familiar to Bill and we headed to the correct parking garage.

so our post analysis of the concert accompanied by a special coffee drink and a shared whip creamdessert was cast aside as it would have been difficult to engage in this activity when i wasn't talking to Bill and instead enjoying the cloak of righteous contemptuous annoyance.

and because of my large container of emotional negativity and pissed-offness, i had a nightmare, woke up with a stye on my eyelid and had a headache. It took me till 9am before i could see the absolute hilarious funnyness of the situation. Maybe i can tell Paula about this and she can use it during her next concert.

THE SANTALAND DIARIES

This play put on by Live Theatre Workshop in Tucson was the best community based local acting I have seen. both the Diaries and the other one - SEASON'S GREETINGS TO OUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY - were adapted from David Sedaris's writings. That's the reason why i wanted to see it because when we moved from Redding to Tucson I listened to a book by Sedaris and it was so entertaining and witty and sarcastic and interesting that i was disappointed when the driving ended.

The Diaries is a recounting of Sedaris's experiences moving to New York to be an actor in a soap opera and running out of money while waiting for a job. So he applies at Macy's to be a Christmas elf. It is absolutely hilarious and accurately portrays all the different characters and personalities of the people who play elves and also the various Santa's. He also does an excellent job of showing the absolute insane rush and pressure of the holiday season. The actor, Christopher Johnson, was superb and he didn't just narrate but became each person he was talking about.

The Season's Greetings play was much darker. Kristi Loera plays a perfect Martha-Stewart lady who is composing her yearly Christmas letter and she remains upbeat and perky (while slugging down wine and whiskey) and all smiles and grins while relating the happenings of the year. But the events include finding out her husband had a child when he was in the Vietnam war, her druggie daughter becoming pregnant, accusations of murder, court dates. The contrast between the underlying tragedies and violence and her chirpy exterior was bittersweetly funny.

The theater was small so every seat was good. Because of the bright lights on the stage and the heat it caused (we could see the sheen of sweat on both the actors' faces) they don't heat the theater so i'm glad i was warned of this because i brought adequate jackets and scarves to stay comfortable. Plus laughing a lot helped too.

THE DOG IN THE WASH

About 3 weeks ago, i started seeing this dog on the river path or in the wash as i was walking in the morning. She's a shy dog or a fearful one and skitters away (can canines skitter?) immediately. After several days i started talking to this runner about the dog and he said its been living in the wash for about a month and its got a collar on but he's not been able to get close enough to catch it.

This dog has become the casual but constant talk of the group of us pre-dawn walkers. We'll nod hello as we pass and then whisper "see her?" One morning after a bitter cold and rainy and windy night (a foot of snow on Mt.Lemmon) the scuttlebutt of the river trail-ers was that the dog was probably dead (there are also coyotes that roam and stalk the river bed). And then lo and behold, there she is a couple of mornings later, looking healthier than i felt.!

Signs were put up at frequent locations with a picture of the dog exhorting any sighters to call IMMEDIATELY and 3 different cell phones were listed. This morning i came across a gal calling each of the 3 cell phone numbers with no one answering! and then at the end of my walk - there was the husband of a couple walking after the dog in the wash (without luck).

Since the dog has a collar, I assume the human owners placed it there and why aren't they missing their dog? Maybe the dog ran away from home because it was an abusive environment or the owner was a drug addict and cocaine dealer or maybe the dog got romantically involved with a neighbor dog who moved away and she got so heartsick she thought she'd commit suicide by starving and living outdoors in the dry Rillito River.

What does she eat?

and maybe the dog loves living in the wash. she can poop wherever she wants, has no set dinner hour, can bark at the sight of the full moon, doesn't have to be talked down to in doggie cutesy squeaks and doesn't have to be manhandled and prodded by the grandkids.

If the dog gets caught, she'll probably end up in a cage at the Humane Society; living in a steel edged space that is barely bigger than her body; crammed into a building with tens and tens of other canines and some of them being from the wrong side of the street (wash?) No wonder she stays in the wash.