The First in a Series of Modest Proposals, submitted to the Legislatures of Alabama, Missouri, Louisiana, et al.
I take you at your word: your intent is to eliminate abortions.
May I therefore suggest…
PROPOSED: All males, upon reaching puberty, shall be provided a government-supplied vasectomy.
The vast majority of abortions are simply the result of unwanted pregnancies. As you lessen unwanted pregnancies, the number of abortions performed will likewise plummet.
Research clearly indicates that by far the most effective means of birth control is vasectomy. Not only are vasectomies almost 100% effective, but they in no way inhibit sexual performance or pleasure, and require no logistical pause before intercourse. They are also far safer, faster, cheaper, and less invasive than hysterectomy or tubal ligation.
Even more importantly, unlike those female procedures, vasectomies have the added bonus of being reversible.
So when a male decides he is ready to become a father, he can apply for a government-supplied vasectomy reversal. Of course he will be required to show proof of committed relationship and financial solvency, and he will need to document his partner’s consent before undergoing said reversal. These checks and balances only further ensure that unwanted pregnancies are avoided, thus eliminating abortion.
Once a couple becomes pregnant, the government will reverse the reversal. Truly, the out-patient nature of vasectomies makes them an almost perfect pregnancy suppressant.
The additional benefits of government-mandated vasectomies are far-reaching. For example, vasectomies at puberty will significantly limit those problematic “rape and incest” pregnancies that continue to be a stumbling block to your legal maneuverings. Of course this proposal doesn’t lessen rape or incest, but protecting women from assault is not your stated goal.
Furthermore, you will no longer have to entrust birth control to women. Vasectomies eliminate the need for mood-altering birth control pills, and no longer will women be able to “trap” men into fatherhood by “forgetting” to take their pills, or embarrass sincere public servants with claims of illegitimate progeny. Likewise you will no longer have to worry about the bad press of businesses applying for religious exceptions to not fund birth control, and the extra money in the pockets of women will result in more spending on shoes, make-up, and white wine, propping up our economy in these troubling times.
But perhaps the greatest benefit of this particular proposal… no more condoms. Men will never again have to pay the onerous price of sacrificing a fraction of pleasure for the sake of respecting their partners’ bodies and choices. The extra latex can be donated to hospitals for gloves, driving down medical supplies budgets and thereby lowering the prices of treatments for patients, alleviating the health care cost crisis.
If for some reason this proposal strikes you as too invasive, as too much government overreach into private lives—though considering the bills you are currently championing I think we must be of like minds when it comes to the role of government—then I ask you to consider Proposal 2, to be submitted forthwith…
A final musing, to send you all on your way after this, your final week as an Acting Apprentice at FST. Some of you may be sticking around, some of you are headed home, or off to a boat, or the big city. Do not forget that you will always have an artistic home here.
Also do not forget that wherever you go, that place and those people within it are IN PROCESS. It is an illusion to think that something (or someone) has always been the way it is. A place transforms by virtue of the point of view of the one looking at it. Those young playwrights who visited this past weekend, from Russia and Israel and Camden and Bradenton, they saw this village of theatres in an entirely different way. Because of the way they arrived here. Because of both the distance and circumstance of their visit.
When you arrived at FST, you saw it a certain way. You see it differently now. And yet you don’t see it the way I do, or the way Caroline does, or the way Richard does, because we all arrived at different times and for different reasons. You never saw the Bowne’s Lab as an empty hole, as I did. You never saw the Gompertz with one bathroom, which thankfully I never did either. You never saw the Goldstein as just an empty patch of grass. You never knew Beth Duda, who was a long-time FST actress, teacher, playwright, Director of Education, and my first direct supervisor when I arrived in December of 2012. Beth moved on, but left me with a totem I cherish. She had some background in the circus, and circus folk would not say “goodbye” to each other. They would say… see you down the road.
I love that. And I pay it forward to you. We will never all be the same community we are at this moment, but all of us, surely, in this ever-shrinking world, will see each other, in some way, at some place, down the road.
As long as you keep putting one foot in front of the other, with integrity.
Last week I left you with the modifier “FOCUSED”, in the context of focused rehearsal.
You may have heard of the 10,000 hours theory, supported by research and discussed by Malcolm Gladwell and even rap-referenced by Macklemore.
Here’s the rub… the AMOUNT of practice and rehearsal you put in is absolutely important.
But the QUALITY of that practice and rehearsal is perhaps even more vital.
And quality comes simply from focus. Humans were not hard-wired by evolution to be multi-taskers.
Picasso said that art is simply the elimination of the unnecessary. So… get rid of distractions. Ask yourself what the purpose of any practice or rehearsal is, and stay on target.
I have said to you previously this season that discipline (another form of focus) is simply remembering what you really want.
In our business of show, replication is paramount. The 8pm on Wednesday has to be just as entertaining and effective as the 3pm on Saturday as the 7:30pm on Sunday as the 10am on Tuesday.
A family affair today.
My mom sent me this quote: The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one. –Elbert Hubbard, writer, 1856-1915.
Three cookies for you this muggy February Monday.
First, one of my favorite quotes, from noted novelist and theologian Frederick Buechner (to whom I once wrote a fan letter, and he wrote back!!)…
“Doubt is the ants in the pants of faith.”
If your faith, or your art, or your politics, are intractable, are unable to be challenged, are unable to be questioned… what does that actually say about said faith, or art, or belief? It says, that on a deep level where most of us don’t like to visit, we don’t trust that the truth can hold up to scrutiny. Which begs the question… is that truth truly true?
Stagnation leads to rot. In rehearsal. In performance. In relationships. In beliefs.
DOUBT… lets in air. Allows water and sun to filter. Creates room for growth and discovery of newer/better/deeper truths. The ants in the pants metaphor is so hilariously simple and apt. Ya gotta keep moving, keep jiving, keep looking for ways to encounter each doubt, so that your belief and your art can be stronger, more supple, more earned, more vital.
My official race time was two hours… and two-tenths of one second.
Two-dang-tenths of one second.
That’s not even a STEP.
But I tell you what… it was awesome.
Other fun facts… the course was actually about two-tenths of a mile SHORT. Numerology!! Which means I actually would have come in at more like 2:01:30.
I needed to average 9:10 per mile to hit my two hour goal. The official results say I averaged 9:11 per mile. My super cool Garmin GPS watch told me my average was 9:18 per mile. Cuz of those missing two-tenths of a mile.
What’s the truth?
And since I finished the race with no injuries and with new personal bests in both time and distance, and my girlfriend finished and shared victory beers with me, and my dad finished and shared victory bacon with me, and my good buddy finished and shared victory selfies with me… does that mean that those two-tenths of a second (or that minute and a half, WHATEVER) necessarily DEFINE my race?
So. Re-define “miracle.” My dad’s in his 60s. He completed his first half-marathon last year. His second one this year. Is already signed up for his third one next year.
And you better believe I’ll come in under two hours next year. Like, there is zero doubt. Not doubting that goal? Miracle.
This week… do something you know you can’t do. Just try it. Doesn’t have to be huge to have a huge impact on you.
While you do that new thing this week, I’ll be hanging up my medal. So that it hangs two-tenths of an inch off the wall.
So I’m running my fourth half-marathon this coming Sunday. And this will be the first time that I’ll be able to actually RUN the whole thing. No walking breaks! And aiming to come in under two hours, that’s my only goal.
If you’d seen me take my first step of running training, oh, five years ago, you wouldn’t believe that two hours was anywhere near realistic.
All that being said, listen to Michael Jordan. If I had made pancakes instead of pulling on my running pants and turning on my GPS watch, that wouldn’t have been the end of the world. Failure happens. When the thing we want is BIG, when we have prioritized something that upon first glance is EPIC, we will not always be able to resist the pull of pancakes. When that happens… when your chin is sticky with syrup and you’re in your sweat pants on the couch with bad TV on… listen to Michael Jordan. And next time… do a little better.
An ancillary… One of my playwriting students today just said the most terrific thing: When you’re exhausted, consider a rest rather than giving up. It’s good for writing. It’s also good for pretty much any goal you set yourself.
Theatre pro, amateur yogi, and competent home cook.