Last night I read/spoke to 64 people. You might call it a virtual success. No money though—couldn’t sell books or sign— no social distance. More anon.

But they liked me.

And today I had to go on with too much work. “Too much on your plate,” says Matthew. It’s amazing how far he can carry on with pat phrases and clichés. A lot of people do, have you noticed that?

Well, I’ll get there (where/?). Last night was the first of three readings I’m doing this fall. They’re different, but not so much. It’s just a different kind of communication. What might be a little tricky is a small collection of drama workshops in a school (specifically about improv and more specifically about dialogue and more specifically about play structure). I made the bookings last spring just before social distancing was imposed. we (I) have been offered the chance to rebook and go ahead as planned. But improv demands ensembles, or at last teamwork. Have to figure out how to do some ensemble work—pack kids into one screen?? Think about it. Any suggestions will be welcome.

I cannot keep my eyes open.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrrow…

I asked Matt this morning if he understood what Thanksgiving means. Yes, he said, and started on the history of the first European immigrants to Canada. I stopped him (shame on me) and talked about those lovely abstract words: gratitude, security, safety, freedom, and so on. But I was thinking about him later and I remembered Samuel de Champlain (1567-1635 ) and his first winter over in the New World when his men all got scurvy and they learned from the natives about acetylsalicylic acid and willow bark tea. That’s when they started The Order of Good Cheer—such a good idea.

“At the height of the cold weather in 1606-7, Samuel de Champlain proposed that a social club, The Order of Good Cheer, be established to keep the men's spirits up. Each night one of the men would plan and prepare the food for the banquet.” Wikipedia

We need one now to get through this bland, flat, lethal vigil.