Las Vegas, NV
May 20, 2020
Garrison Keillor hits Las Vegas with a new solo show!
April 18, 2020
Garrison Keillor comes to the Rochester Civic Theatre for a night of stories, songs, poetry, and humor. Tickets $50 and up
February 19, 2020
Garrison Keillor with Heather Masse at the Dakota. Night 2 of 2. Tickets $30+
February 18, 2020
Garrison Keillor with Heather Masse at the Dakota. Night 1 of 2. Tickets $30+
When you, that at this moment are to me
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
When you, that at this moment are to me
Dearer than words on paper, shall depart,
And be no more the warder of my heart,
Whereof again myself shall hold the key;
And be no more—what now you seem to be—
The sun, from which all excellences start
In a round nimbus, nor a broken dart
Of moonlight, even, splintered on the sea;
I shall remember only of this hour—
And weep somewhat, as now you see me weep—
The pathos of your love, that, like a flower,
Fearful of death yet amorous of sleep,
Droops for a moment and beholds, dismayed,
The wind whereon its petals shall be laid.
“When you, that at this moment are to me” by Edna St. Vincent St. Millay. Public domain. (buy now)
On this day in 1784, Benjamin Franklin (books by this author) wrote a letter to his daughter saying that he was not pleased about the choice of bald eagle as the symbol of America. He wished it had not been chosen as a “representative of our country” because, he said, it is a “Bird of bad moral Character.” Franklin wrote about the eagle: “Like those among Men who live by Sharping and Robbing, he is generally poor, and often very lousy.”
There was a different fowl that Franklin championed as a true representative of the budding United States: “The Turkey,” he wrote 236 years ago today, “is a much more respectable Bird, and … a true original Native of America.”
It’s the birthday of British playwright Christopher Hampton (books by this author), born in Faial in the Azores archipelago (1946). His father was an engineer for a British communications company and got sent all over the world. His parents were interested in sports and social events. Hampton said, “I was the odd one out in the family, this small boy with thick glasses who read all the time.” He went to Oxford, studied modern languages — and wrote a play, When Did You Last See My Mother?, which was performed at Oxford and made its way to the West End. At the age of 20, Hampton was the youngest playwright ever to have a play produced on the West End.
He continued to write plays, including the comedy The Philanthropist when he was 23. Hampton said: “I had a conversation with my agent after The Philanthropist. She said, ‘You’ve got a choice: You can write the same play over and over for the next 30 years, and you’ll probably get even better at it, or you can decide to do something completely different every time.’ So I said, ‘As a matter of fact, I have started writing a play about the extermination of the Brazilian Indians in the 1960s.’ And she said, ‘Well, that’ll do it, dear.'”
He wrote the movie Dangerous Liaisons and also about 20 films that never got produced. He co-wrote the book and lyrics for the musical Sunset Boulevard, adapted Chekhov’s The Seagull for the stage, wrote the screenplay for the film Atonement (2007), adapted from Ian McEwan’s novel; and translated several plays by French playwright Yasmina Reza, including ‘Art ‘ (1994) and God of Carnage (2006). He wrote the libretto for an adaptation of Franz Kafka’s The Trial in 2014, with music by Philip Glass (the third of three such collaborations).
He said, “Asking a working writer what he thinks about critics is like asking a lamppost what it feels about dogs.”
It’s the birthday of the songwriter Lucinda Williams (works by this musician), born in Lake Charles, Louisiana (1953). Who says, “Above all, the listener should be able to understand the poem or the song, not be forced to unravel a complicated, self-indulgent puzzle. Offer your art up to the whole world, not just an elite few.”
It’s the birthday of science fiction writer Philip José Farmer (books by this author), born in North Terre Haute, Indiana (1918). He grew up in Peoria, and was working at a steel mill there when he wrote his story, “The Lovers,” about an oppressive dystopian 31st-century North America in which there is no nudity and human sexuality is highly controlled. Up until then, sex was taboo in science fiction. Most science fiction editors assumed that their audience of adolescent boys would not respond well to it. But the story was published, Farmer got an award for it, and he quit his job in the steel mill to become a full-time writer.
He said, “Imagination is like a muscle. I found out that the more I wrote, the bigger it got.”
Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.®