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  1. Saturday Night Live in Mindy’s World

    Tuesday, April 23, 2013

    Saturday Night Live in Mindy’s World


    Last Saturday night, I went to see Mindy Levokove’s musical play, “Obama: At the Table Second Term” at the WOW Café and Theatre.  I must’ve gone with little skin because the tears just poured.  It wasn’t crying with sobbing noise or even a runny nose, but tears kept popping out and running down my face.  I also laughed.  Mostly I was struck by people making things happen.  The theatre is the oldest woman and trans-gendered run theatre in the country.  The purpose was to allow women’s theatre that wouldn’t be welcomed in many other places.  A place where no one tells you what to do.  Imagine.
    Wow Cafe Theatre

    The cast was 12 women who sang the play.  They represented the people, the president, the daughters of the president, the 1%, those imprisoned for suspicion of terrorism, the Occupy Wall Street folks, Hurricane Sandy victims/survivors, etc., etc.  Mindy Levokove wrote all the songs and was praised by the cast for incorporating their ideas and feelings as well.  That is the Mindy Levokove I know.  We happen to both teach at the same place, and there, I am known as Mindy M. while she is known as Mindy L.  I find that funny because that never happened for me in grade school.  There was more than one Linda and Jeffrey and David, but not Mindy.
    The woman representing the theatre let us know how we can become involved if we wanted to.  It opened a door in my head.  I have to make things happen too.  That feeling may have contributed to my tears.  It’s possible. 

    Mindy Levokove did something I have often imagined doing if I ever were to cast a show involving dancers.  Her dancers did not cease to dance or exist after age 20-something or when not skinny.  We had the opportunity to enjoy the talents of women of all body types and ages.  I enjoyed it very much, basically for the same reason I like the Bronx.  It’s real.  We don’t exclude portions of the population to make it look a certain way.  It represents the real world.  The round, the angular, and all the ages and shades of brown we are.

    When I left, I didn’t feel like going straight home.  So I walked from East 4th Street to West 3rd Street and went to the Olive Tree Café.  The comics from the Comedy Cellar usually eat there and hang out.  I typically sit at a table but this time, I sat at the bar.  All the surfaces are blackboards, and they serve up cups of chalk.  I like to draw (especially since no smoking is allowed in anyplace).  They make a decent Long Island Ice Tea which I ordered and began drawing.  I happened to be near the table of comics.  They don’t know me.  I’m not at their level in the business.  Most were men and one woman.  She looked kind of manly too.  At some point, one of the men sat next to me at the bar and ate his food.  I think he said hello.  I returned the hello.  I continued to draw.  He didn’t offer to buy me a drink.  Then he said, “Where you be staying at?”  So “what’s your name” is not what one thinks of, just how far do I have to go to fuck you, basically.  Well sir, you may have to go as far as Venus.  I just sent my vagina there for safe keeping.  Yep, just before I got here and ordered a drink, I sent it off ‘cause I know how things can get when I’m drinking and in the company of such a charming man as yourself. 
    In actuality, I laughed at his question.  I told him a student once asked me that and I thought it sounded so temporary like I was on someone’s couch.  Then he said, “You teach?”  “Yes, I teach adults who didn’t finish high school.”  And that ended that stimulating conversation.

    I should write a song:

    It’s so freakin’ easy
    To be penis-freeeee!
    Even when I’m not tryin’
    There is just no denyin’
    Men are the biggest cock-blockers that beeeeeeeee!                                           

    It’s just too damn easy
    To be penis-freeeee!
    Some think it’s cool to live lies 
    And just worry about dick size 
    They block their own cocks with stupidityyyyyyyyyy!

    (or something like that.)




    April 2013

  2. 4 comments:

    1. RHC said...

      PURE GOLD: "how far do I have to go to fuck you, basically. Well sir, you may have to go as far as Venus. I just sent my vagina there for safe keeping. Yep, just before I got here and ordered a drink, I sent it off ‘cause I know how things can get when I’m drinking and in the company of such a charming man as yourself."

    2. thank you Rhonda!!! lolol

    3. Anonymous said...

      Like shopping at the salvation army - somewhere in there is a gem but you've got to sift through all the junk first.

    4. Lisa, you are right. There is much to be sifted through. As a believer in God, I feel wrong to call any human being junk, buuuuuuuuuuuut, let's just say that many are not for me. (And with all my sensitivity and feeling, I still get called mean and a bitch. I've decided to redefine what bitch actually means these days.) Thanks for reading, and I hope you got a laugh out of it.

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