Back in Burbank, CA, my son Lex is rehearsing “The Laramie Project.” (And, being a strapping young white guy, he’s playing the unrepentant town asshole — which he isn’t.) Here in Omaha, I was just now reading the LA Times online to find out what’s going on back home, or, at least, the Times’ version of what’s going on, when I came across this news profile, which covers the production my son is in.

A little back story: Originally, the Gay Straight Alliance at John Burroughs High School (where my elder son is a junior) proposed doing “The Laramie Project.” When the principal learned of this, he banned the production — so those enterprising kids got some money elsewhere and are doing it on their own. Now, in his own words, the principal is “eating crow” and has allowed them to rehearse on campus.

I know most of the players involved — the high-school principal who initially banned the production, the drama teacher he doesn’t get along with, one or two of the kids in the picture, Greg from Actors’ Gang, Trent Steelman and the Colony Theatre (where I saw that remarkable production of “The Laramie Project”), and so forth. Burbank is a town where most people somehow or other know most other people, and theatre is the same sort of town, stretched around the world. Don’t believe me? I saw a play last night here in Omaha, and was startled to see that one of the leads was played by a terrific actress I had directed in the world premiere of “Remember I’ll Always Be True,” by Kevin Barry, in, I think, 1997. (Or whenever OJ was acquitted, which made for one very memorable rehearsal night.) My friend Catherine Porter in New York posted a comment to this blog suggesting that I say hi to a guy named Deke if I see him here — yes, I see him here; we’re sharing a house.

The Burroughs kids’ youthful activism cheers me. It also takes me back to my own fights with the high-school establishment involving, oh, the dress code, the content and length of my first play, various things I said or wrote, just where exactly I was at some times when I was supposed to be in other places and, finally, whether or not I was going to graduate. Now I see these kids doing this play and I’m glad for them — and at the same time, having sat in assemblies where I learned the worldview of some scattered segments of the parent population, I’m well aware of this principal’s no-win situation. Actually, his being “forced” to at least allow them to rehearse on campus may be the best thing that could have happened for all involved. Had he merely allowed the production to go forth, I have no doubt he would have gotten angry phone calls and emails, as well as letters published in the Burbank Leader (the Times’ “community newspaper,” which I guess means that the overall LA Times is not a community newspaper — a position I’ve begun to share), all from an outraged sliver of parents. It’s not noted in this news article — and how could it be? — that my son’s best friend is not in the play because he was afraid of his parents’ reaction. They are very religious, and very strict, and the principal is in the position of having to take that into consideration. As one high-school teacher recently told me, when certain reading material is assigned, the teacher can always count on upset parents calling.

That leads to an insidious self-censorship. “I’m not going to try out for this play because it’ll get me in trouble with my parents.” “I’m not going to assign this text, because I don’t want to do battle with parents right now.” “I can’t let them rehearse on campus, because I’m going to get angry parents showing up with pitchforks and torches.”

Every writer I know faces this sort of challenge as well. “I can’t write this — what will they think?” “I can’t put Bill’s story in there — what if Bill sees this?” Or, in my case, “Will my kids ever confuse these characters with me?” I like to think not — and plow on. Robert and Aline Kominsky-Crumb have explored their sexuality and their open marriage in their comic strips, at the same time with a running narrative wondering what their child would think of this when she got old enough to read it.

It’s easy — and right — to condemn the principal. Nobody likes small-mindedness or censorship.  And I’m glad the way this worked out:  The show goes on, and the high school is permitted, in a small way, to support it. But each of us every day makes choices, conscious or unconscious, about our public face versus our private face, and sometimes principles are tested by the exigencies of living with other people.

Here in Omaha, Nebraska at the Great Plains Theatre Conference most of the talk is about two things: plays, and the weather. The refrain has been, “We’re going to get some weather.” That was accompanied by instructions on how to find the shelter in our individual residences or in the main building here on the hosting college’s campus. When I saw the news coverage of tornadoes in pretty much all the states encircling this one, I understood just how euphemistic “some weather” was — and the imp in me perversely wished some of that would come here. (Very bad idea, I know.)

The day before I left L.A., I saw a mourning dove on the fence opposite our house. This in itself wasn’t especially interested, our own back yard and entire neighborhood being a favorite place for mourning doves. But ours have always been gray — indeed, that’s why I thought they were called “mourning” doves, because it looks as though they’re in mourning. I found a photo of his fellow on the left on the internet, and yes, he looks a bit pinkish/brown in some places, so imagine him as more purely gray. Now look at this one:

He’s tan and brown — no gray. He stood out among the six or seven relentless gray mourning doves surrounding him. Maybe they’re common elsewhere, but I’d never seen a brown mourning dove before. My first thought was: Are there brown mourning doves and I’ve never seen them before, or is this a mutant freak right here in my own neighborhood? A little internet search later (well, just now) revealed that they aren’t uncommon , even though I’d never seen one before. So either I’m not terribly observant , or they’re not in my neighborhood.

The shocking intrusion of the brown mourning dove in no way prepared me, though, for what I saw just an hour ago. It was sleek and black and fuzzy and looked at me and ran straight up a tree and I thought, “Is that a squirrel?” Because, similarly with the brown mourning dove, I’ve never seen a black squirrel. Thank God again for the internet, because here’s what it revealed:

So yes, there are black squirrels, and yes, that was a black squirrel I saw. It was also hands-down the handsomest squirrel I’ve ever seen (albeit photo-shy, because it kept running around the tree and away from my camera, hence the internet photo at left).

As someone who grew up out in nature I know one thing about nature that I like to share: Nature alternates between being boring and dangerous. If you don’t know what I mean about it being boring, then head out into a meadow and have a sit and see how long you handle that. It’s pretty dull. If you’ve ever been charged by a stag, or lived through a hurricane, or almost drowned during an incoming tide (I’ve done all three), then you understand the danger. Having in the space of just three days encountered a brown mourning dove and a black squirrel, I guess I should add that nature’s surprising; you’re never sure what you’re going to find in the place you’re in, if you look about.

My most unexpected sighting was about 20 minutes ago. Leaving one of the readings, I met Frederick J. Simons and his wife (that’s Mr. Simons on the lower left). Their family business? Omaha Steaks. It was a pleasure telling the Simons that I’m a loyal customer, having stocked my freezer at home many times with Omaha Steaks, and sending them to my mother on special occasions. The Simonses are supporters of this conference and were attending the reading of a play (a very fun new play) that I served as a panelist for. It’s gratifying to know that one of the companies I support is supporting an artform that supports me.

Remember the other day I was mentioning my discussion with my assemblyman, Paul Krekorian? Here’s a photo of that moment in time from today’s Burbank Leader (the local newspaper supplement to the Los Angeles Times), and here’s the story, if you’re inclined to bone up on Burbank politics.

Although the paper’s caption says he “talks to John Gallogly and Lee Wochner,” the photo clearly shows me buttonholing him about, that’s right, the state budget (I want it balanced). And redistricting (I want it). And term limits (I’m opposed). For the record, I have great respect for Assemblyman Krekorian and think he’s representing us well on these and other issues. It’s the State Legislature as a whole, and our governor in particular, that I’m up to here with.

By the way, the story erroneously reports that we had only 25 people for this picnic. I understand their mistake, given that it seems to be a policy of the Times (and, by extension, the Leader) to get at least one major fact wrong in every story. In actuality, we had about 75 people. Much closer to the number at this guy’s event.

Re today’s Kentucky primary, I have to wonder how it feels to be Hillary Clinton: winning the primary, while having already lost the nomination. It makes me ask:

• Does she realize she’s already lost the nomination, or is she in denial?
• If she does realize, what’s behind all these pronouncements of pressing on? Is she waiting for Obama to bail out her multiple personal loans to the campaign? Is she unsure how to exit gracefully?
• If she doesn’t realize, is it because she’s been misled by husband Bill’s example? (Soldiering on at the height of the early adultery charges, then dubbing himself “The Comeback Kid” after a second-place finish in New Hampshire.) Someone should tell her: “We know Bill Clinton. Bill Clinton was a president of ours. You’re no Bill Clinton.” Boys grow up wanting to be the king, and girls the princess, but most wind up as commoners.
• Or, maybe it’s neither. Maybe — and this seems to me the most shocking conjecture — maybe she actually thinks she can still win this. Maybe her hope that the usually cool and collected Obama blows it in some way that most of us would find hard to conceive. Maybe she actually thinks there is some way to prevail against the forces of:
  • the pledged delegates (who have preferred Obama)
  • and the superdelegates (who have preferred Obama, with more coming every day)
  • and the party elders (Kennedy, Daschle, McGovern, Carter)
  • and the fallen competitors (Richardson, Edwards, Dodd, Kucinich — indeed, almost every one of them except Gravel, who won’t even be able to get the Libertarian nomination)
  • and some of the party apparatus (although he’s stayed neutral, I’m sure I can read Howard Dean’s mind on this one)
  • and the primary voters, who by a wide margin have preferred her opponent in what is, definitionally, a popularity contest.

Can it be? Does she think she can win? Or is she just trying to leverage the best deal possible? Or is there one scenario she and her team had never envisioned, and therefore don’t know how to deal with: losing.

Britney Spears has had to rein in her spending.

You may have heard that California has a budget deficit of $15.2 billion. Our illustrious governor Schwarzenegger’s proposed solution:  to borrow from future state lottery earnings. Of course, this means gambling on the lottery’s future success.

I can’t help noting that the guy proposing this is the same person who railed against Governor Gray Davis’ budget deficit — which was almost to the penny the same amount — and who said he was going to “cut the California credit cards in half.” Five years later we’re so far deeper into debt that nobody would issue California another credit card.

Today I emceed a Democratic club picnic hosted by the Burbank Democratic Club, the Glendale Democratic Club, and the Northeast Democratic Club. Our assemblyman shared a story with me. In the budget committee on which he sits, after legislators had agreed to one spending cut after another on health and welfare issues, the Democrats proposed one last item in the budget:  closing the “sloophole” on the yacht tax.

(About this particular tax loophole, for those not in California:  If you take delivery of a yacht, airplane, or recreational vehicle out of state and keep it out of state for 90 days, you can avoid paying the sales tax. Ipso facto, this saving never applies to anyone you see working a checkout counter, emptying fast-food trays, or helping people try on shoes. It is, in effect, a regressive tax (a discount given to a few, creating a budget gap paid for by the many). Here’s an LA Times editorial summing up the sloophole — and why it’s especially shameful to preserve it at the same time  you’re cutting Medi-Cal payments.)

So the Assembly is in these budget deliberations. Bear in mind, these are mid-year cuts to a budget that municipalities and schools and non-profits and various agencies had already  banked on. Imagine finding out halfway through the year that your own income, on which you   had already budgeted, was now cut by half. Or eliminated.  The Democrats on the budget committee bring up the sloophole, and surprisingly, the senior Republican on the committee agrees:  Given the budget crisis, and given the nature of the other cuts, closing the tax loophole on yachts is the decent thing to do. The proposal makes it out of committee.  Two days later, it fails in the Legislature, where not one Republican — not even the one who spoke up supporting it and who voted for it — votes for it. In the intervening 48 hours, the Republican leadership hammered him and the couple of other Republicans who agreed with him, and they caved.

I don’t believe in magic wands. But if there’s one thing that would go a long way toward fixing our utterly broken state government here in California, it would be this:  real redistricting. Politicians choose their voters by gerrymandering these districts.  Most of the elected people in this state who take the no-new-taxes pledge and who refuse to cut subsidies to yacht owners can do so with the full support of their carefully carved little districts back home. That wouldn’t be the case with a redistricting plan that took electoral mapmaking out of legislators’ hands. Suddenly, they might find themselves facing a broad swath of the public — and find themselves moving toward the middle.

A few years ago, the Atlantic Monthly ran a persuasive piece of journalism with an accompanying color-coded map that showed that 70% of Americans agree on most issues. I don’t doubt it; that’s because most issues revolve around common sense. So who are those other 30%? All too often, those people on the margin are the people who wind up elected.

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Now playing: Flogging Molly – What’s Left Of The Flag
via FoxyTunes

Obama has apologized for calling a reporter “sweetie.”

I guess now we’re down to three acceptable things a candidate can say.

The first issue of Southern California Review is out.

Contents of this new journal include my play “The Fifth Administration,” as well as… literary contributions by other people. I haven’t had a chance to read all of it yet, but Kristina Sisco’s play “Gone…” is a terrific little gem that deserves many more productions, and the Ann Stafford prizewinning poem by Elisabeth Murawski is emotionally devastating. The journal is well worth your time and support. Click here to order.

A quick side note: A big thank-you again to Kimberly Glann for directing the premiere of “The Fifth Administration” in fall of 2004. Rereading the drafts that SCR’s scrupulous editor Annlee Ellingson sent me reinforced how much I learned about that play and its characters in working on the production with Kim. Case in point: After the Rumsfeld substitute breaks his aide’s leg in three places, the aide is dragged out screaming by that very leg. I’m not sure whose idea that was — perhaps Kim’s — but I’m sure glad it’s in there.

So Hillary Clinton’s running around West Virginia saying, in effect, “As goes West Virginia, so goes the nation.” At least, that’s what this says. Her argument: That no Democrat has won the White House without West Virginia since 1916, and that “If West Virginia had voted for our Democratic nominee in 2000 and 2004, we wouldn’t have had to put up with George Bush for the last seven and a half years.”

First point first. Message to Hillary: It’s 2008. History is changing. Or haven’t you noticed that a (half) black man is about to be the presidential nominee of a major party? You can’t run all over the country for a year and a half and say we’re about to make history, and then act like all that matters are the lessons of the past. It’s one or the other.

Second point. It’s true that if West Virginia had voted for Gore or Kerry, we would have avoided Bush (unless he and his cohorts had found another way to steal these elections, which isn’t inconceivable). It’s also true that if ANY other state had voted for Gore or Kerry, that would have happened. Moreover, if an asteroid had crushed Crawford, Texas when Bush was there sleeping any time up until November 2000, we would have been spared George W. Bush. In other words: It doesn’t matter. It’s that past thing again, that thing that seems to confuse you, that thing you like to use some times and ignore other times. (As when, say, you vote to attack nations that haven’t attacked you first, and then change your rationale repeatedly.)

As regards West Virginia, can it truly matter that much? Sure, it’s the site of the nation’s first 4H Club, and the first federal prison exclusively for women, and it’s got the third-largest cave in the United States. But it’s never done one of my plays.

You’re invited to join me (but you’ll have to get tickets):

1. On Wednesday evening I’m attending the opening of “Pippin” at East West Players with terrific playwright friend Dorinne Kondo. As regular readers of this blog know, I’m not much for musicals (even though I did see four in one month recently), but EWP routinely does some of the best theatre in town, and this piece in today’s LA Times further whetted my appetite.

2. On Thursday night I’ll be slinging my axe, virtually, in Koreatown when I take on “Guitar Hero” as part of Moving Arts’ one-act festival fundraiser. Ten bucks gets you pizza, snacks, a drink, and all the humiliation you can take. Here’s the Evite; hope you can make it and hope it’s a full Rock Band set-up (guitar, keyboards, drums, vocals) because I sing a mean “Don’t Fear the Reaper.”

3. On Friday night I’m seeing “Trying” at the Colony. This is a show I’m dearly anticipating. I missed it last year during its first run; now it’s back for two weeks only. Here’s the press release. The play stars Alan Mandell, an actor I dearly love and one I’ve seen I don’t know how many times on stage and on screen. There are two reasons I’ve seen him so often on stage: He is a legendary actor of Beckett’s plays (and my mission, upon arriving in Los Angeles 20 years ago, was to see as many plays by Beckett, Pinter, Albee, and Ionesco as possible, because their availability in southern New Jersey was scant), a personal friend and collaborator of the playwright and a co-founder of the San Quentin Drama Workshop (in 1958!). And he’s performed countless times with some of the most inventive small-theatre practitioners in town. On screen, he pops up in “Shortbus” (where he’s The Mayor, a character clearly, um, influenced by Ed Koch) He’s a wonderful actor and seemingly tireless at age 80; but, given that 80 is indeed 80, now is the time to see him. (And below, you can see him appear in a trash can as Nagg in Beckett’s “Endgame.”)

4. No tickets needed for this one. On Saturday I’m emceeing a political event for area Democrats. Here’s the link for more information. The press release reads (and you’ll note we’ll be doing voter registration, so this provides another opportunity to test Frank Rich’s theory):

Come hear the candidates and gobble some BBQ!

This year the Burbank Democrats’ annual family picnic joins up with the Glendale and Northeast L.A. Dems for a pre-June 3 primary event with politicos from the tri-club area.

Currently confirmed to speak and take questions are U.S. Rep. Adam Schiff of the 29th, and Democratic challenger Russ Warner of the 26th; retiring state Sen. Jack Scott of the 21st District and Carol Liu, contending to replace him; former Assembly Majority Leader Dario Frommer; and Assembly members Paul Krekorian (43rd) and Anthony Portantino (44th). Judicial and central committee candidates will also be in the mix. Not confirmed yet are U.S. Rep. Brad Sherman (27th), State Assembly Member Kevin deLeon (45th) and state Sen. Gilbert Cedillo (22nd)… or the chance of a surprise or two.

Keynoter will be Rick Jacobs of Courage Campaign; Burbank founding president/Truman Award winner Lee Wochner will emcee. Voter registration before the May 19 cut-off will be available.

Please note! Meat and side dishes are provided, but please bring your favorite salad or desserts as pot-luck.

For more info and updates, see www.burbankdemocraticclub.com or call 818-288-2649.

5. On Sunday I’ll be running 3 miles in Santa Monica, testing out the $250-worth of running and hydration gear guaranteed to make me run better. I don’t expect to see you there. And don’t expect to see me here immediately afterward.