“Forty years ago [gays] would’ve hung, bless God, from a white oak tree!”

Wow…

A friend of mine responded to my post yesterday with some excellent points, one of which was that Worley’s church in NC could not be a house of God.  She knows the Book well, and I was really touched by the time she took to respond to the post.

I started thinking about how we live in a time when religion is under attack and how that might actually parallel how LGBTQ people are under attack.  Of course, VERY DIFFERENT circumstances, but I think that in 21st century American society, religious practice could be viewed as non-normative by a lot of people.  In fact, I have been privy to any number of inappropriate comments from so-called liberals condemning and/or dismissing religious practices and beliefs.  This language often mirrors the language used by people going on a homophobic rant, and it gets to the heart of this post’s title.  Practitioners of religion have been taking it to the chin because of people like Pastor Worley, and I think we all need to take stock here.    Extreme practices and beliefs exist in all communities, but we have to be careful about how we respond to these moments when one person speaks for a larger community.  Or let me rephrase that.  The media holds up this person and insinuates that he speaks for an entire community.   That’s part of the problem.

I’m writing this out because I know I need to be more accountable for my own thoughts and feelings about moments like this.  Pastor Worley’s rhetoric frightens me, but I don’t believe that it’s a possibility.  Maybe that’s naive of me, but I’d rather be optimistic about my fellow man.  We need to be smart enough not to take the media’s or Pastor Worley’s bait.  We also need to have more compassion.  We can’t hate the “hateful.” If we do, we become Pastor Worley.

I don’t practice religion, and I’m not even sure how spiritual I feel at this point in my life.  But I do understand that religious teachings are meant to help us see the humanity in each and every individual–so that we see the face of God in the people around us.   Empathy, compassion, and humanity in a world where those three things are getting harder and harder to find.

If you watch the video below from AC360 last evening, you’ll see sections of the preacher’s video, which was taken down yesterday from YouTube after it received over 25,000 hits.

I try not to be surprised by people’s hatred.  I also try to forgive people’s insanity.  I’m struggling with this video, mostly because of the repeated choruses of “amen” in the background, each time this lone person talks about destroying people for being gay and lesbian.  The “amens” or “I believe” mean that he’s clearly not alone in thinking that this proposed solution has merit.

I also find it nauseating that this speech happened in a so-called house of God.  I stopped practicing religion a long time ago, but I still respect houses of worship and the teachings of Jesus.  How those teachings lead this man and many others like him to putting other human beings inside electrified fences, I’ll never understand.

I probably go to the theatre more than the average person because it’s what I do.  I make theatre and I teach theatre; therefore, I also have to be a consumer of theatre.  It’s how I stay current, and hopefully I see work that inspires me to create and teach in new and different ways.

As I’ve grown older and more experienced, that last piece about inspiration very rarely happens.  Once I started studying theatre as a graduate student, it became harder and harder to feel inspired about anything.  I find it difficult to shut off my internal critic, and as a result, I end up analyzing every choice up on stage, from acting to directing to design.  Unfortunately this often makes going to the theatre a really unpleasant experience.

Case in point: I saw a certain show with a certain famous pop star the other night.  Other than a beautiful design (costumes, scenic, and lighting), the production failed miserably.  Even the pop star’s fame couldn’t make the show move along.  While disappointing, I’ve come to expect this kind of experience.  Broadway musical productions rarely satisfy beyond showcasing the newest visual innovation.  Or we get some movie or television star attempting to act in real time without stopping and starting for multiple takes.  If these actors make it through the performance without a major screw up, we think that they’re suddenly “gifted stage actors.”  Granted, there are excellent crossover actors who can go both ways, but that should never be assumed.

This afternoon I had the absolute pleasure and privilege to see the new musical Once on Broadway, based on the movie of the same name.  This show is by far one of the best new pieces of theatre that I’ve seen in at least 15 years, maybe longer.  I haven’t felt this connected to a musical since seeing Rent for the first time in 1996, and ironically, Once also originated at New York Theatre Workshop, the original off-Broadway home of Rent.

Once features outstanding performances by the two lead actors, Steve Kazee and Cristin Milioti, both of whom have been nominated for Tony Awards.  Beyond these two leads, the entire ensemble turns out fantastic performances, full of energy, focus, and nuance.  Not to mention that every single one of them plays an instrument in the performance.  So the entire experience feels filled with artistry, musicianship, and sensitivity that moved me at various points throughout the show.

I could go on and on and on about this show, but instead, I’m going to make a few very clear points:

#1.  Once knows exactly what it is.  It doesn’t try to be anything other than what it is, and the entire cast and production team understand that.  Hallelujah!  This so rarely happens anymore, so when it does, it should be acknowledged.  The Tonys got it right this time with 11 nominations for this show.

#2.  The Irishness of Once is apparent from start to finish, and having spent a fair amount of time in Dublin, the authenticity of  the storytelling is striking.

#3.  The production team has created a theatrical experience for this adaptation, not a simple replication of the movie.  But this understanding of the theatrical experience has made this production incredibly moving.  Enda Walsh (book), John Tiffany (director), and Steven Hoggett (movement) have made that translation to the stage happen in a way that I found inspiring.  The simplicity and specificity of the storytelling makes for an actor-driven event that has moments of magic that I will not soon forget.

I’m still processing the experience of seeing this performance.  My advice is to get a ticket as soon as you can.  It’s one of those moments that rarely comes around anymore.

Do it.

Now.

Do not miss Once. 

This action by elected Senators offers a fine example of how democracy doesn’t always work so well.  These 100 men and women get elected by the citizens of their states to represent their interests in Congress and to make decisions for the good of the American people.  Senators and representatives should represent the interests of the electorate through their voting and their support of certain measures.  I’m relating this back to the idea of privilege that I discussed in the last blog post.  Our elected friends seem to be losing touch with the electorate more and more each election cycle.  Democracy worked a little better when the gaps in the American experience weren’t quite so large.  At least that’s my perception from 20 or so years of personal awareness and from studying American history.

How can the gap in experience and understanding begin to shrink?  Who should we elect to hold these offices?  Do we need more representation so that viewpoints on issues can be more differentiated and actually represent the experience of the electorate?  Does bigger, broader government cause a better system of checks and balances?  I have a sinking feeling that the answer to the last question is “no,” but it might not hurt to entertain the idea as a way to get to something better than what we have now.

For me, this whole debacle comes down to something much more deeply rooted: class and socioeconomic status (SES).  Bruni acknowledges this in his op/ed, but he doesn’t spend enough time digging into the issue.  Let’s face it, Romney and Obama don’t have much clout with the middle class.  Both are h0pelessly aloof when it comes to people outside of their privileged worlds, and they and their families are easy targets for anyone looking to paint them as inaccessible, misinformed, or out of touch.  The diversity of the “American experience” has intensified over the last century, but our leadership has not shifted as quickly.  Privileged men, and now some women, still make their way to the top of the food chain, while the “99%” largely feel stuck in the mire.  Whether that’s entirely true is difficult to tell, but a person’s perception is her/his reality, and that reality does not help either candidate’s relationship to the majority of the US population.  Hilary Rosen’s comments about Ann Romney also come from a liberal, educated viewpoint that places value on certain kinds of experiences and ways of being.  This is a problem, and Bruni scratches at that as well.

US elections have been and will continue to be unfortunate reminders for the majority of the American people that leadership comes from privilege.  The mythology of the American Dream tells us that upward social mobility is achievable in the American meritocracy, as long as we work hard enough.  Lately, that’s not been the case for a large majority of the electorate.  Fewer and fewer people believe the myth, and probably with good reason.  Until a leader comes along who really acknowledges that in an honest way, the image problems will continue and comments like Hilary Rosen’s will continue as well.

I think that culturally we are at a moment when it’s only acceptable to be open to collaboration. The concept and the word have become “buzzy,” and as a result we have to embrace them.

The facilitator of the meeting explained that collaboration could be viewed as an impediment because it can potentially dilute the strength of the individual entities that are trying to collaborate. This makes a lot of sense to me.

As a result, collaboration between entities requires that those entities be strong and confident in their own individual areas of expertise.  If this is not the case, the collaboration could weaken the entities and therefore weaken the end product of the collaboration.  Collaboration requires openness, and that openness can only come out of a place of strength and confidence from the individual parties involved.  Additionally, collaboration cannot be forced. Collaborators need to meet each other in a moment and work together to move forward out of that moment. If the collaborators lack shared experience, knowledge, and/or vocabulary, the collaboration is likely to fail.

I’m adding “collaboration” to my list of things to ponder right now, along with subjectivity in educational assessment and gaming theory as a pedagogical stance.  Does subjectivity have a place in assessment, and if so, where and how much?  How does gaming theory affect how we teach this generation of young people?

NYU has a reputation for being very “queer friendly,” but that doesn’t mean that its students are immune to hate speech or homophobia.  The world of professional sports gets a lot of bad press around homophobia, and rightly so.  It’s inspiring and encouraging to see these athletes and their coaches, of all sexual orientations, helping young people to know that it’s more than OK to be gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or queer and an athlete.

This video makes me proud to be a member of the NYU community.  Please share it with others.  It deserves to be seen, just like these young athletes.

With thanks to Greg Louganis for the vivid memory

With thanks to Allen Ginsberg, as portrayed by James Franco in the film Howl, for fearlessness

The lights rise on the living room of an apartment in NYC’s West Village.  It’s late in the evening or early in the morning, that time when magical things happen.  Connections over tea, drunk pronouncements of love, realizations that change lives, profound pieces of writing.  There is one light on in the apartment, a table lamp.

Voices outside the door of the apartment.  The sound of keys turning in the lock.  A burst of laughter just before the door opens.  Two men enter.  PETER is about 30 years old, short hair, medium height and build, really good shape.  He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, boots.  He carries a jacket in his hand.  He is followed by MARCUS, about 45, graying hair, wearing a suit.  Tie is loosened at the neck.  He’s a handsome, older guy. Some would call him a DILF.

PETER hits a light switch near the door, and the apartment is flooded with too much light.

MARCUS (shielding his eyes)
AH!  Too bright.

PETER
Sorry, Marcus.  Sorry.

PETER shuts off the light.

MARCUS
That’s better.

PETER throws his jacket over the back of the couch, and MARCUS removes his jacket and tie.  PETER goes off stage to the kitchen.  Sound of cabinets opening and running water.

PETER (offstage)
Are you thirsty?

MARCUS
Sure.

PETER (coming back on for a moment with two glasses, sound of water running)
Is tap water ok?

MARCUS
Great.  I’ve heard New York has great tap water.

PETER (going off, offstage)
Uh.  OK.  I’m not sure I’d say great.  (He re-enters with two glasses.)  But drinkable.  (He hands MARCUS a glass.)  Cheers (clinks his glass to MARCUS and begins to drink.)

MARCUS sniffs the water and holds it up to the light.

MARCUS (chuckling)
You didn’t put anything in my water, did you, PETER?

PETER (choking a bit on his water)
What?

MARCUS
I’m kidding!  I’m kidding.  You’re poured me so many drinks tonight you had ample opportunity to slip a mickey in my cocktail.

PETER
A what?

MARCUS
A mickey.  Like a pill.  Drugs?

PETER
Oh, right.  (laughs, but not so sure of the joke still)

MARCUS drinks the water down quickly and sets the glass on the table near the lamp.

MARCUS
So how long have you been working at that bar?

PETER
Why don’t you sit down?

PETER moves his jacket out of the way and gestures for MARCUS to sit.  He does, and PETER sits at the opposite end of the couch, still holding his glass of water.

MARCUS
So?

PETER
At the bar?

MARCUS
Yes, how long have you worked there?

PETER
About six months.

MARCUS
Wow.  That’s not that long.  You seem to know everybody that comes in.  Or they know you.

PETER
Yeah.  I guess I’m just really friendly.  What do you do again?

MARCUS
I’m a lawyer.

PETER
Where?

MARCUS
St. Louis.

PETER
Oh!

MARCUS
You been?

PETER
No, but I’ve heard about it.

MARCUS
Not so exciting. That’s what you heard?

PETER
Something like that.

PETER gets up quickly and takes the empty glasses to the kitchen.

MARCUS
It’s an OK place. Just certainly not New York.

PETER (offstage)
Right.

MARCUS
What did you do before this?  The bartending.

PETER (offstage)
Uh, what did you say?

MARCUS (yelling)
Before this job.  What did you do?

PETER (offstage)
Oh…uh…this and that.

PETER returns.  He looks uncomfortable.  He sits down on the couch again, one leg under his bum.

MARCUS
This and that?

PETER
Yeah.  When I first moved here I had some odd jobs.  Temp stuff.  I wasn’t very good at office work, so I stopped and was unemployed for awhile. And then last April, I got the job at the bar, and I’ve been there ever since.

MARCUS
Last April?

PETER
Yeah, I think so.  Let me think.  April, May, June…  Yeah, least April.

MARCUS
But that’s a year ago, PETER. It’s April now.  You said a few minutes ago that you’ve been bartending there for six months.

PETER (caught in the lie)
Did I say six months?  I meant a year.

MARCUS
Well, which is it, Peter?

MARCUS looks at PETER.  PETER avoids his gaze.

MARCUS
Peter?

PETER shrugs and flashes his bartender smile, but it doesn’t work.  MARCUS gets up.

MARCUS
I think I better get back to my hotel.

PETER (getting up)
No, don’t go.  We’re just getting to have a real conversation without yelling at each other. Over the loud music.

MARCUS
Yeah, it’s nice to be talking to you and actually hear what you’re saying instead of reading your lips.

PETER (getting closer, trying to distract)
Yeah, well, the one thing I miss is having to be so close to you.  Yelling in your ear, smelling you, as I ask you what drink you want next.

PETER has gotten very close to MARCUS and is leaning in to kiss him.  MARCUS is taken by it and the two begin to kiss.  PETER reaches up and begins to unbutton MARCUS’ shirt, and MARCUS grabs his hands.

MARCUS
That’s all very distracting, but you’re not telling me something, and I’m not interested in doing this without knowing more that’s true about you.  So I should get going.  (He begins to grab his coat and tie from the couch.)  Thank you for the water and –

PETER
Wait.  Wait.  OK.  (pause)

MARCUS puts down the coat and tie and makes a motion for PETER to proceed.

PETER (slowly)
Before I worked as a bartender at the club . . . I was a dancer.

MARCUS
Like a dancer in a company?

PETER
No, not exactly.

MARCUS
What kind of dancer?

PETER
A dancer in the showers.  At the bar.

Silence as MARCUS takes that in.

MARCUS
You danced in the showers?

PETER
Yes.

MARCUS
For how long?

PETER
I did that for six months, while I was learning to bartend, and then a position behind the bar opened up, and I applied and got the job.

MARCUS sits down on the couch for a moment.  He’s a little taken aback by this news.

MARCUS
So you danced in the showers, like those guys were dancing tonight?

PETER
Yes.

MARCUS
And you wore what those guys were wearing?

PETER
Basically.  Not much different than what I was wearing to serve you drinks all night.

MARCUS
And all those drunk guys were touching them.  People touched you like that?

PETER
Yes.  But it was just part of the work.  It doesn’t mean anything.  Really.

MARCUS (repeating quietly what PETER has said)
“Doesn’t mean anything.  Really.”  What do you mean by “really?”

PETER
I mean that it really doesn’t mean anything.  Really.

MARCUS is clearly not buying it.

PETER
You think it means something?  Those guys who wave dollar bills at the dancers?  They’re just looking for a cheap feel.  You bend down, you make eyes at them, you let them touch you, and then you move on.  It doesn’t mean anything.

MARCUS
It felt pretty intimate to me.  Those guys were wet, I could see everything about them through the white fabric, drunk guys held on to them, and they all looked like they were enjoying the attention.

PETER
And?  It’s just a job.  Occupational hazards.  I’m sure there are things about your job that you don’t—

MARCUS
It’s not like being a lawyer. And if it’s just a job, then why did you lie about doing it?

PETER
Because guys react exactly like this.  All holier than though. Or they get really turned on by it and treat me like a piece of meat.

MARCUS
And you don’t enjoy the latter?

PETER
What’s that supposed to mean?

MARCUS
That kind of attention.  If you’re standing in a shower in front of a couple hundred people, basically naked, you must enjoy the attention.  (pause) Did you?

PETER stares at him.

PETER (slowly, deliberately)
Yeah.  I did.  I liked it when guys like you sat at the bar, drank lots of drinks just like you did and spent the evening staring at my thick cock and my rock hard ass through the wet fabric.  I loved every minute of it.

MARCUS
Did you get hard like those two guys tonight?

PETER is silent for a moment.  It’s embarrassing to remember that part of the job.

MARCUS
Is that my answer?

PETER
Sometimes.  It feels good to be looked at, Marcus. It turns me on.  In a good way.  I’d think you would understand that.

MARCUS looks at him for a moment, like “what are you talking about,” and then he realizes PETER is talking about his good looks.

MARCUS
Well, I never felt looked at like that. Not in public. And I never dressed like that in public.

PETER
Really?

MARCUS
Really.

PETER
I thought you told me earlier that you swam in college.

MARCUS
And?

PETER
Breast stroke and IM.

MARCUS
Good memory. Your point?

PETER
And that would have been in the mid 80s.

MARCUS
How do you know that?

PETER
I needed to see your driver’s license because you don’t sign the backs of your credit cards, remember? I saw your birthdate.

MARCUS
You don’t miss a beat, do you?  So I swam on a college team. How is that connected to your dancing?

PETER
Were you any good?

MARCUS
Two-time All American in the breast stroke.

PETER
So you competed a lot. In front of people?

MARCUS
Yes, but what does that—

PETER
In a speedo.

MARCUS
Oh c’mon. That is so not the same thing!  Are you kidding me?

PETER
How is it not the same thing?  You wore those speedos in front of a lot more people at those swim meets.

MARCUS
But that’s a sport.

PETER
OK. But I would also say a form of entertainment.

MARCUS
That’s stretching it, but OK.  Now I’ll tell you this though, my speedo covered a lot more than what those guys covered tonight.

PETER
I’m not so sure about that. I’ve seen the pictures of those speedos from back then and they’re pretty small. Not like what Michael Phelps wears today.

MARCUS
Those long shorts that he wears are ridiculous. I don’t know how anyone swims that fast wearing those things. All that drag! I don’t care what they say about technology. Less is definitely more as far as swimming goes.

There’s a moment of silence as PETER rests his case.

MARCUS
OK. OK. But we weren’t wearing white speedos that you could—

PETER
Greg Louganis wore a white speedo. At the 1988 Olympics.

MARCUS
You were barely alive when he wore that white speedo.

PETER
I’ve seen the pictures.  Plus it’s hard to forget a hot guy banging his head on a spring board and then winning a gold medal wearing a white speedo that says “Air Mail” across the crotch.  Even when you’re only 6 years old.

MARCUS (remembering)
It certainly was.  Unforgettable.  I wanted to race in a speedo just like that.

The two men fall silent.

MARCUS (suddenly)
You were only 6 in 1988?  You’re that young?

PETER
Maybe.

MARCUS
Can I see your ID?

PETER
You can see a lot about me if you can get past the shower dancing.

MARCUS
Really?  I’ve seen quite a bit at the bar already.

PETER
Well, there’s a lot more under the outfit.  Really.

There’s a pause here as MARCUS thinks this over.

MARCUS
Well, in my line of work, we’d say that you’ve made a compelling argument for the similarities between the swim team and dancing in the showers. I’m not sure your argument really holds any emotional water, but I’m willing to take that risk.

MARCUS stands up and finishes taking off his shirt.  He reveals a wife beatered torso that still looks like it swims the breast stroke.

PETER
Still swimming?

MARCUS
Four days a week.

PETER
In a speedo?

MARCUS
A white one.

PETER
Really?

MARCUS (moving towards PETER on the couch)
Really.

The table lamp fades to black as MARCUS helps PETER off with his t-shirt.

An exercise for a larger project

Thanks to Jeanmarie Higgins for the question.

With memories of Tricia Guadagnino Nitsche and Cathy Corey Cruz in Morris Library in 1991.

Lights up to find two young women, SARAH and VIC, sitting at a dining room table.  The table is covered with books, papers, chip bags, and empty cans of Red Bull.  SARAH is listening to music on her headphones and humming along.  She is 21, brown hair, glasses, dressed in her pajamas.  VIC is the same age, and she punching numbers into her computer.  She’s wearing part of a waitress uniform and eating Chinese take out.  SARAH’s humming is getting on her nerves, but she continues to try and work.  SARAH gets excited by the music and begins to play drums with her hands on the table.

VIC (not looking up)
Sarah.  Could you keep it down?

SARAH doesn’t hear her.

VIC (still not looking up)
Sarah?

SARAH still does not hear her.

VIC
SARAH!

SARAH (looking up and yelling)
WHAT?

VIC (motioning to take off the headphones)
Could you keep it down?

SARAH
Was I making noise?

VIC
You were banging on the table.

SARAH
I was?

VIC
Ah, yeah.  So could you stop?

SARAH
OK.  Sorry.

SARAH puts her headphones back on.  The women go back to working and SARAH begins humming again.  VIC endures it for a bit, but she can’t concentrate.

VIC
SARAH!

SARAH
What now?

VIC
I can’t work with you humming!

SARAH
WHAT?

VIC
I CAN’T—

SARAH
WHAT?  I CAN’T HEAR YOU

VIC gets up and takes the headphones off SARAH’s head.

SARAH
Ow!

VIC
I can’t concentrate with you banging the table!

SARAH
I wasn’t banging the table!

VIC
Well, the humming doesn’t work either.  Could you quit it?  Or go work in your room.

SARAH
What’s wrong with you?

VIC
There’s nothing wrong with me.  I’m just trying to do my work.  I can’t concentrate on these equations with you making all of this noise.

SARAH
Alright.  Sorry.

VIC
Fine.

SARAH
Fine.

SARAH shuts her music off and removes the headphones.   She starts to read again, and VIC settles in.  SARAH gets bored very quickly and picks up a bag of chips.  They make a lot of noise.  She begins to crunch, quite loudly.  This goes on for a bit, and VIC is going crazy.  SARAH finishes a bag, crumples it up, and opens another.  VIC puts her head down on the table.

VIC
I can’t believe this…

SARAH
What’s wrong now, Vic?

VIC
Nothing.

SARAH
Why are you banging your head on the table?  Are you ok?

More crunching.  VIC doesn’t answer.

SARAH
Vic?

VIC
Could you stop eating the potato chips, please?

SARAH
But I’m starving.  You want some?

VIC
NO!  I don’t want any chips.  Could you eat something else?  Something quieter?

SARAH
What else do we have?

VIC
How about some ice cream or something that doesn’t crunch or make noise?

SARAH
We don’t have any ice cream.  I already checked.

VIC
Jesus…

SARAH
What’s with you?

VIC
I’m trying to work, Sarah.

SARAH
Me too, but you’re acting all sensitive to noise and stuff.  What’s the problem?

VIC
These equations aren’t working out, and I can’t concentrate with you making all of this noise.

SARAH
What noise??

VIC
Seriously, Sarah?  Are you fucking kidding me?

SARAH looks at her and shrugs, like “What do you mean?”

VIC
You’re unbelievable…

SARAH
Me?  I’m unbelievable?  You’re the one who’s acting crazy.

VIC
Why are you doing this?

SARAH
Doing what?

VIC
Singing?  Banging the table?  Eating all these chips?  You’re like a fucking noise machine or something.

SARAH
We always listen to music when we do homework.  And look around, Sarah.  You’ve downed your fair share of food since you got home.

VIC
I had class all day and then worked from four to eleven at the restaurant.  I need to eat.

SARAH
Well, so do I.

VIC
I’m not saying you can’t eat, Vic.  I just can’t hear myself think.  Can you please just do this stuff quietly?  This lab is due in the morning.

SARAH
What time?

VIC
9:30.

SARAH
It’s 1:30.  Plenty of time.

VIC
Fuck you.

Silence.  SARAH crunches one last time.  VIC looks up and SARAH smirks.

SARAH
All done!

SARAH crumples the bag and goes back to work.  VIC settles in.  She works on her computer and SARAH reads more from her book.  She finds something that surprises.

SARAH
Huh.

VIC
What?

SARAH
Did you know that Beethoven was going deaf?

VIC
What are you talking about?

SARAH
Beethoven?  You know who he is, right?

VIC
Some piano guy, I guess.

SARAH
An important composer.

VIC
So?

SARAH
So he was going deaf when he was writing music.

VIC
How could he write music and be deaf?

SARAH
Going deaf.  He went deaf.

VIC
And this is important because?

SARAH
No reason.  Just interesting.

VIC
What class is that for?

SARAH
Music Appreciation

VIC
I thought you dropped that.

SARAH
Tried to, but it was too late.  Drop/Add period was over.

VIC
You said the professor was really boring.

SARAH
She is.  But we started listening to some Beethoven in class. It’s kinda cool.

VIC
Great…

SARAH goes back to reading.  The two work in silence for a bit.  VIC seems to make headway with her equations.  She gets excited, and eventually sits back and closes the laptop lid.

VIC
Done!

SARAH
You’re finished?

VIC
I just figured it out.  Thank God.  I’m about ready to fall over.

SARAH
Go get some sleep.

VIC
Are you going to keep working?

SARAH
I’ve got to finish this reading or else I won’t be ready for class.

VIC
Isn’t that Music Appreciation class a lecture?

SARAH
Yeah, but she likes people to participate.

VIC
Does she even know your name?

SARAH
I sit in the front.

VIC
The very front?

SARAH
Yes. Front center.

VIC
Brown noser.

SARAH
Call it whatever you want, I’m getting an A in this class.

VIC
You’re such a brown noser.

SARAH
Why is that brown nosing?

VIC
It so is brown nosing.  Sitting in the front row?  Participating in class?  C’mon.

SARAH
I want the grade, Vic.  I’ll do what it takes to get the grade.

VIC
Always looking for the grade…

SARAH
What’s that supposed to mean?

VIC
Why are you so grade obsessed?

SARAH
Grade obsessed?

VIC
It’s all you ever worry about.

SARAH
Whatever.

VIC
Not whatever.  It’s the truth.  You’ve got this obsession with getting an A.  I don’t get it.

SARAH
Well, not everyone’s got a free ride, Vic.

VIC
I don’t have a free ride.  My parents pay all of my tuition.

SARAH
That’s a free ride.

VIC
Hey, I work, Sarah.  I work a lot.

SARAH
So do I, Vic.  Like 30 hours a week.  To pay my tuition.  Not to save up for Spring Break.

SARAH wins that round.

VIC
Fine.  I’m going to bed.  I’ll see you in the morning.

SARAH (picking up her headphones)
Don’t forget to put your ear plugs in.

VIC
Don’t even think about it.

SARAH
Something’s got to keep me awake.

VIC
Please don’t bang the table?  I’ll sleep through the humming, but not the banging.

SARAH
I’ll do my best.

VIC
G’nite.  Don’t stay up too much longer.

SARAH
OK.

VIC exits and SARAH begins to listen to her headphones again.  This time the audience can hear the music.  It’s a lovely piece of Beethoven music, “Sonata Pathetique.” She goes back to reading.  And the lights slowly fade to black.