Since my banishment from the squat canyons of my part of New York (where you have to look down to see the skyline) to the stupefying sameness of suburbia, I have again become fat. I’m now as fat as I was before I wasn’t fat, back when I was fat. Though this is only in relation to my clothes.
Since my clothes are at least a size or two smaller than they used to be, it takes far less effort for me to be fat. In fact, if I had my old clothes, I’d be skinny. I wouldn’t even have to wear them, just have them.
Combine that with what you’ve seen of my mood and you have to know that, for most of the last month, I’ve been decidedly non-handsome. Thus this chronicle of gracious living, which began with the sudden onset of unexpected handsomeness, reaches a critical turning point as the squalid torpor of my soul (a vestigial organ addressed in earlier posts) eats away at the portrait of Dorian Me that is my face and form, which together are my calling card to the world.
When I returned to the US from London, I had awesome plans for myself. And I have, in fact, done much of what I planned. It simply filled a greater amount than intended of what we who live inside ourselves call “real time.” So, with only 5 weeks ’til I return to Britain to perform this year’s Edinburgh shows, I must move back through the many months, back to a time before I was handsome and then not handsome again.
You see, the creative denizens of the non-emerald isle have this institution, the Edinburgh preview, via which hopefuls and veterans alike craft their shows for the August festival, whittling away the dross and keeping the salt until, finally, they have a pile of dross-free salt. Indeed, there is a months-long season devoted to these previews, during which virtually every venue abandons its regular fare to feature them.
But we have no such season. (We do, however, have Rabbit Season, which is why so many of our cartoons have been so damn good.) What, then, will I do, with the shards of my glassy life still only life and not yet show? How will I winnow and heighten? How will I prune and weed-kill?
Via the one vehicle I have at my disposal, of course. This essential guide to living graciously.
So, when next you click through to this oasis, it will be last September. Or October. Or some other time.
But it will be the beginning of my personal Edinburgh preview season.
And it couldn’t have come at a worser time.
‘Cause I looked in the mirror this morning.
And I was handsome.