Monthly Archives: August 2014

Continuing my Carly Simon homage: I haven’t got time for the pain


First there was my “Anticipation” as the local theatre was “making me wait, keeping me wa-a-waiting . . .”

Waiting, of course, to find out if and when “Into the Storm” would be gracing the screens of the nearest multiplex.

Because assuming it would, would make an “ass” out of me, right?  Never assume anything.

Well, after being more or less bedridden for close to 24 hours (chalk it up to FMS, sciatica, severe muscle spasms in my back and ulnar nerve pain in the wrist), I picked up my almost-dead cordless phone noon-ish today and once again punched in the numbers for the theater’s hotline.  And what do you know . . . the first thing announced by the recorded voice THIS time was “For Into the Storm, press 1 . . .” I gave an inner *squee* and hastily hit that button. I heard the show times just before the phone gave up the ghost and insisted it be charged for seven hours.

So, you see, I haven’t got time for the pain–not since RA arrived in town in the guise of Gary Morris. Oh, I still hurt, but I’m definitely better than early this morning, and even more so, now that I know I have this guy to look forward to seeing tomorrow:


dreamskisses edit
“Haven’t got time for the pain, haven’t got room for the pain, haven’t the need for the pain, not since I met you . . .” Sing it, Carly!


Well-Rounded – The Crucible

Well-Rounded – The Crucible

Guytly’s very well-rounded review (from lighting to performances) of The Crucible–thanks for sharing!

Guylty Pleasure

Notes“Stop thinking and just write”, I kept telling myself and yet my review of the whole Crucible experience was not coming. It was sitting shapelessly somewhere between my guts and my heart, possibly also stuck sideways in my throat. A strange kind of reluctance catches hold of me every time I have been subjected to one of those close(r) encounters of the fangirling kind and I need to recount the event for my blog. I am rarely ever speechless, but it seemed like that with my trip to London to see The Crucible live on stage. And not for the awesome acting and impressive staging of the play. But possibly more for the inner condition of the fangirl. By committing the experience to paper/screen, the experience is anchored as an event of the past. And how nice would it be to hold on to the present and presence of the…

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New Experimental Drama Takes West End by Storm – “The Stage Door”

New Experimental Drama Takes West End by Storm – “The Stage Door”

You gotta read it. And her post that’s a review. If I can get this darned reblog to work. It’s been that kind of a week.

Guylty Pleasure

Review: “The Stage Door”

New Experimental Drama Takes West End by Storm

by Guylty Pleasure

Experimental drama has the habit of being, well, experimental. It is hard to tell nowadays where reality starts and fiction begins. A new experimental drama that is mid-way through its eleven week-run in London’s West End is braving new ways in bringing the reality of modern life to the audience. Never-seen-before stage management, audience involvement and improvisation methods are making this innovative new work the must-see performance of the season. And best of all – it’s unticketed and free in.

The Stage Door

Devised and staged by impressive director/writer/lead actor Richard Armitage, the play opens to a street scene on a balmy summer evening in central London. The seemingly calm and peaceful scene is cosily illuminated by street lights, accentuated with the warm glow of the orange “stage door” orb. Sparsely furnished with the occasional car and a…

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ICYMI: Richard’s producer, co-stars give him love in TAC vid


I just love this little video with Marlise from the Anglophile Channel (dubbed the Armitage Channel for the day) interviewing RA’s ITS co-stars and producer, Todd Garner, about working with Richard. He’s “lovely,” “sexy,” “a joy,” “total professional” and the accolades continue.  I already knew, of course, Richard was all of this and more–still, I never tire of hearing really good things being said about him.  Call me bursting with pride yet again.

Anticipation, anticipation, is making me wait . . . RA to take on turtles and a dame


Normally, I get sick of seeing the same commercials repeatedly and love being able to skip them altogether when I DVR stuff. Oddly enough, I have not tired of the barrage of different adverts on my TV for “Into the Storm.” I just don’t know exactly when I will be seeing the film . . . as our local multiplex hasn’t changed the listing of movies yet. Tomorrow, surely, they will?

Me: “Oh my gosh Benny, what if, what if they don’t have ‘Into the Storm’ here in Greenville?”

Benny: “I can’t imagine they wouldn’t–I mean, it’s not as if there are a whole bunch of movies coming out, or very many out that should be sticking around . . .”

Me: “Yeah, that’s true . . .”

Still, I am on edge about The Edge (the name of our theatre).
I don’t want to have to drive 40 or 50 miles to see wet Richard, although I will if it comes to that (actually, Benny will. My wrist gets aggravated driving more than 15 miles or so).

Our theatre runs mostly the big films. I know ITS is, as Richard said, a “small movie” compared to the TH trilogy and the current box office champ, “Guardians of the Galaxy.”  A sort of David going up against Goliath.



“Into the Storm” will open Friday against yet another comic book-based movie, “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” and “The Hundred Foot Journey,” which stars the sublime Helen Mirren and looks like something I would enjoy seeing (gonna pass on the martial arts-trained dudes in shells).


So I wait and anticipate when the movie list will be updated and I can know if I will be seeing ITS in my hometown this weekend–or if we will have to make plans to go to Montgomery or Prattville. Either way, one way or another, I am going into that storm with Rich and Sarah and Max and Nathan this weekend . . . and do my small part in boosting its box office receipts. It’s the least I can do for an actor who is, as Sarah described him, a joy.

I just don’t have time for the drama; or, live and let live


I worked for a chain of small-town community newspapers for over ten years. During that time, I was accused of lots of things, including actual criminal activity, none of which I was guilty of. Of course, that didn’t keep certain people from speculating, in spite of the dearth of evidence. I guess it makes for an entertaining hobby.

For example, I was said to be taking bribes from the mayor. Really? Did they bother to take a good look at the very used car I drove? The lack of designer labels in the closet? My humble abode of a manufactured home? If the big bucks had been rolling in, surely there would have been some outward signs my lifestyle had improved . . . but nope, still just scraping by. Those reporters in movies that have great apartments and drive sexy sports cars? I don’t think they really exist.

I was also informed that if I were a “real” reporter, I’d go to the Wal-Mart home office a few states over and see just what kind of deal with the devil our mayor had made . . . somehow, certain people were under the delusion we had the expense account of the New York Times, when the reality was we barely got enough for gas money to the south end of the county. Somebody had been watching too much television, methinks.

I had a nasty little troll stalking me at our website, alternately berating me for my lack of writing talent and journalistic integrity, and wanting me to bear his children. Geez Louise, if I was that much of a no-talent amoral hack, why would he want me to birth his babies? I liked it better when he just hated me, you know? It didn’t make my skin crawl quite so much.

It didn’t help when our managing editor, who battled the extreme pain of Crohn’s Disease and found a certain herbal remedy helpful, was, along with her boyfriend, arrested for possession and intention to distribute marijuana. The next thing you knew, word on the street was our entire staff was running a major drug operation inside our newspaper offices and selling the stuff at our back door. People were afraid to let their children come inside our door for fear they’d be tainted in our presence.

We had to laugh. Oh, and by the way–the story of the arrest DID run in our paper, contrary to what some smugly expected, and on the front page. Needless to say, that editor was out the door, with the sportswriter and I basically running the paper until we could get a replacement.

Having a certain degree of celebrity, even a very, very small amount as I did, can bring you unwanted attention and “fans” you would be happy to not have.

There was the prisoner whose cellmate subscribed to our paper (a hometown boy, it seems). He decided to write me a nice long letter which I had to stop reading because it was making me blush. There were things he wanted to do with/to me, you see. My husband wasn’t too thrilled with it either. I gave thanks my prisoner fan wasn’t, apparently, a violent offender (he’d been sent to prison on a drunk driving conviction).

Don’t get me wrong. For the most part, readers were kind and complimentary (and not incarcerated). They appreciated the effort I put into covering a variety of events all over the county, the late nights I put in and the research I did on stories. They loved my weekly columns, in which I often wrote about universal themes of family, friendship, loss and love, and what it is like growing up in the south.

But there were those who, for whatever reason, were unhappy with me. My fellow reporters had to endure the same thing. I suppose it goes with the territory. You definitely have to develop a thicker skin and a sense of humor about it all.

When your profile rises, as RA’s profile has over the last couple of years, it seems
the trolls sharpen their axes and the less-than-desirable fans start ramping up their efforts. The crazies come out; the gossip and innuendo and speculation kick into overdrive.

We shouldn’t forget that actors, just like underpaid newspaper reporters, are still human beings. I say let ’em do their jobs, live their lives and give them as little grief as possible. You know, the old “treat others the way you would want to be treated” axiom.

Or am I asking too much?

At least no photog has made RA pose like this so far . . .


I love Pinterest. One of my boards is “Retro and Vintage” and so I follow a lot of other boards offering all manner of old ads, fashions, toys and other “blasts from the past.” I am especially intrigued by the vintage ads . . . such as the one below.


I can only hope no avant-garde photographer decides Mr. A needs to be twisted into this truly awkward and pretzel-like pose. Such a nice guy should not have to suffer that much for his art, right?


Scan of German magazine article about “Into the Storm”. Mr. A and the gang battling wind machines, water, wires and more. It’s not easy out there for a hard-working actor and reluctant model.