Playing Hooky

Until now, I've attended every official function of the conference--all readings, workshops, classes, and lectures. I don't want to miss anything, because I want to take advantage of this rare opportunity to learn more from people I admire.

BUT, I am, at the very moment, ditching an event. Not because it's an unworthy one, but because I never acquired the maturity to sit still and appreciate certain types of theater or performances. Interpretive dance, for instance, or poetry that's accompanied by drummers, dancers, or a chorus. Or anything at all with nudity--even partial. I'm also given to fits of giggles during weddings and funerals, occasions I cannot always simply opt out of. I don't know how that's connected, but it seems to be, so I put it. The maturity thing, I guess.

Anyway, one of the alums does characters. She dresses up like Emily Dickinson or, in today's case, Zelda Fitzgerald, and inhabits that personality for an hour or so. There's a monologue, and then she takes questions from the audience (as Zelda).

Once, I accidentally saw a woman in Marietta who does the same thing with Mary Todd Lincoln. Mary showed up at a reading, surprising everyone. It turns out, the lady was a pretty well-known historical impersonator. I hadn't even known there was such a thing. As was inevitable, I had to sneak out in the middle of her monologue, faking a coughing fit to disguise my snorts of laughter.

I can't explain why these types of things lead to paroxysms--or why they make me so uncomfortable, which is more likely the case. All I know is it's a huge risk for me to attend, and I'm not doing anyone any favors if I do.

I'm sure it was lovely.