I've spent several hours curled up in front of the television tonight. I was alone for Shabbat dinner, so right after lighting the candles and devouring a microwaved meal, I broke out some dvd's that my Mom lent me. It was a TV show she thought I'd like, about some crazy Irish-Jewish family. Somehow, she figured I'd relate.
Yes, I've just discovered Brothers & Sisters. And while watching TV is not the optimal way to spend Shabbas, right now I'm ok with it. The big family at the center of the show does remind me of my own. Ok, we don't have all the problems that the Walkers do, but I know what a large, extended family of mixed religious identity is like.
And I love the romance on the show, especially between Kevin (the token gay brother) and Scotty. No, they're not Spock & McCoy, and they won't steal me away from the Star Trek fandom. Heck, they won't even steal me away from Holmes and Watson. But still, I'm happy to have made their acquaintance, especially with great scenes like these:
Yeah, yeah--I know a lot's happened since then. But remember, I'm only on season one!
Showing posts with label Original Slash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Original Slash. Show all posts
Friday, February 6, 2009
Monday, December 17, 2007
My Shadow in the Sun, Part One
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Original Slash
Rating: PG-13
~
That play. That's how I thought of it in my head.
It's based on history, but it's full of lies and propaganda. I had no mind to participate in it—let alone direct it.
In truth, any Shakespeare was a tall order for our tiny volunteer theatre. But Mrs. David—an imposing, determined woman who put me in mind of Lady Macbeth—had given us an enormous donation, at least by our standards. And all she asked in return was that we mount a production of Richard III.
We took the money. There was never any question about that. And then we sat down to a brief meeting in which I was given free reign to direct. No one else wanted to touch the project—everyone deferred to my knowledge of the Bard.
I swore under my breath. The other board members—all eight of them—were well aware of my feelings. They all got a kick out of congratulating me.
Have I mentioned that I hate that play?
"Don't worry, Rob," Sheila told me as she sidled up to me on the way to the parking lot. "You'll do a brilliant job directing."
I glared at her. "You know my feelings on Richard III. Couldn't you have put someone else forward?"
"No," she said frankly. "You're our best choice."
Damn Sheila--she made it impossible to remain angry. But I still managed a frown. "Thank you," I said. "But have you thought about the cast? There are only two decent roles for men: Richard himself and his brother Clarence. And there are no good roles for women."
"I'm going to audition for Lady Anne," she said, taking my arm. "Poor pathetic thing, falling for a monster like Richard. But I like a bad boy myself—I can sympathize with her."
I grinned at that. It was hard to imagine a sophisticated woman like Sheila playing someone as gullible as Anne. "Even you wouldn't fall for a bad boy who had killed off your husband and father-in-law," I pointed out.
"Oh, that depends on the husband and father-in-law," she assured me. "When will you hold auditions?"
I stopped walking and peered down at her, considering. We had agreed to make Richard III our first production next year. That gave us only three months to put it together.
"Early next week," I decided. "I'll send out an e-mail and put an add in the local papers."
She nodded and pulled her keys from her purse. "Good. Will this be a modern-dress production?"
I cringed. "I have no idea," I said. "I'll talk to Dana about costumes and figure it out."
She smiled up at me, her eyes alight with both sympathy and amusement. "Go home and crack open one of those good bottles of port you've been saving," she ordered. "And don't tie yourself in knots worrying--it will all work out."
I nodded, but I was by no means convinced. I knew it would take more than good port wine to reconcile me to that play.
LINK TO PART TWO: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-two.html
Genre: Original Slash
Rating: PG-13
~
That play. That's how I thought of it in my head.
It's based on history, but it's full of lies and propaganda. I had no mind to participate in it—let alone direct it.
In truth, any Shakespeare was a tall order for our tiny volunteer theatre. But Mrs. David—an imposing, determined woman who put me in mind of Lady Macbeth—had given us an enormous donation, at least by our standards. And all she asked in return was that we mount a production of Richard III.
We took the money. There was never any question about that. And then we sat down to a brief meeting in which I was given free reign to direct. No one else wanted to touch the project—everyone deferred to my knowledge of the Bard.
I swore under my breath. The other board members—all eight of them—were well aware of my feelings. They all got a kick out of congratulating me.
Have I mentioned that I hate that play?
"Don't worry, Rob," Sheila told me as she sidled up to me on the way to the parking lot. "You'll do a brilliant job directing."
I glared at her. "You know my feelings on Richard III. Couldn't you have put someone else forward?"
"No," she said frankly. "You're our best choice."
Damn Sheila--she made it impossible to remain angry. But I still managed a frown. "Thank you," I said. "But have you thought about the cast? There are only two decent roles for men: Richard himself and his brother Clarence. And there are no good roles for women."
"I'm going to audition for Lady Anne," she said, taking my arm. "Poor pathetic thing, falling for a monster like Richard. But I like a bad boy myself—I can sympathize with her."
I grinned at that. It was hard to imagine a sophisticated woman like Sheila playing someone as gullible as Anne. "Even you wouldn't fall for a bad boy who had killed off your husband and father-in-law," I pointed out.
"Oh, that depends on the husband and father-in-law," she assured me. "When will you hold auditions?"
I stopped walking and peered down at her, considering. We had agreed to make Richard III our first production next year. That gave us only three months to put it together.
"Early next week," I decided. "I'll send out an e-mail and put an add in the local papers."
She nodded and pulled her keys from her purse. "Good. Will this be a modern-dress production?"
I cringed. "I have no idea," I said. "I'll talk to Dana about costumes and figure it out."
She smiled up at me, her eyes alight with both sympathy and amusement. "Go home and crack open one of those good bottles of port you've been saving," she ordered. "And don't tie yourself in knots worrying--it will all work out."
I nodded, but I was by no means convinced. I knew it would take more than good port wine to reconcile me to that play.
LINK TO PART TWO: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-two.html
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