Well, not exactly fishing. I’m scrambling to finish up several writing assignments before departing Friday morning for a weekend of snorkeling, sea kayaking and cycling in La Jolla. Fine dining, too … mustn’t forget that. No doubt I’ll be writing some stray article in the car on the way to California (yes, during the shift my wife will be driving) and e-mailing it to the editor from the hotel. Free wi-fi is a wonderful thing. Back on duty Monday.
My contribution to the latest Tucson Weekly:
Live Theatre Workshop has mounted a funny, well-acted and well-directed production of a play that really should be kept in mothballs for another 25 years.Read the full review here.
George Axelrod's The Seven Year Itch is not only missing a hyphen; it's lost any relevance to the way real men and women relate to each other. The 1950s play--about a man, married for seven years, contemplating a dalliance with a sexy young neighbor--trades on antiquated gender stereotypes. Give it another quarter-century, and The Seven Year Itch could be enjoyed as an amusing period piece, as English Restoration comedies are today. But right now, we lack that distance. We're in an in-between period, when the play has lost its currency but isn't quite a classic. For now, it just seems old-fashioned.
James Reel's cranky consideration of the fine arts and public radio in Tucson and beyond.
