Speaking of young, today while singing lead on Rock Band with some girls, my 8-year-old son tossed in this ad-lib:  “I’m single. I’ll be here all week.”

In the current story arc of the Vertigo comic book Hellblazer, John Constantine, who was originally modeled by Alan Moore after the young Sting, travels back to the 1970’s to rescue his fiancee and winds up meeting his earlier self. Each of them is repulsed by what he sees. Constantine the younger is a punk, with a mohawk and piercings and attitude to match; the current Constantine is a fattened fifty-something with not much to show for himself. The results of this bad team-up are hilarious, especially when the twentyish fiancee winds up sleeping with the younger Constantine, but returning to present-day life with the version who is more than twice her age. Each Constantine feels like a cuckold — to himself.

I thought of this today when I read this piece about Johnny Rotten, who has a penchant for doing home repair, and who is peddling a new book of his sketches — for $750.  I don’t begrudge Mr. Rotten, born John Lydon, his success. I’m glad he’s still with us, and I look forward to that eventual new PiL album and tour. But I would enjoy seeing an encounter between Johnny Rotten circa 1977 and John Lydon in 2011 purchasing plumbing supplies in the local hardware store.

Unfortunately for me, I’ve seen a number of one-man shows. And I’ve directed several. It’s a lot harder than it looks — usually for the audience. My advice for actors considering writing and performing in a one-man show:  Unless you’re the man known as Dame Edna, you probably shouldn’t try it. Read this piece from The Onion and know this:  In my experience, everything they mock is all too true.

Here’s how to use the semicolon appropriately.

My friend Rich Roesberg, the poet laureate of Northfield, New Jersey, recently received this poem via the Internet:

WINTER POEM

It’s winter in New Jersey
And the gentle breezes blow
Seventy miles an hour
At five below.
Oh, how I love  New Jersey
When the snow’s up to your butt
You take a  breath of winter
And your nose gets frozen shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful
So I guess I’ll hang around
I could never leave New Jersey
Cuz I’m frozen to the ground!

Which prompted him to craft this reply:

SUMMER POEM

It’s Summer now in Florida
And the heat is just plain brutal.
The bugs are everywhere —
They just ate someone’s poodle.
It’s 96 today
without a cloud in sight.
Three mailmen just expired —
They should bring the mail at night.
Yes the weather here is awesome,
At least, if you love heat.
The soles of my shoes have melted
And they’re stuck fast to the street.

Here’s what one American academic thinks:  that “the way in which people frantically communicate online via Twitter, Facebook and instant messaging can be seen as a form of modern madness.” You can read the hysteria here, if you like.

This brings to mind what might have been an earlier news report:

In other news, the Holy Roman Church stepped up its attack on the new invention called “the printing press.”

“We are gravely concerned that the mass production of these so-called Bibles in English will have the effect of coming between God-fearing Christians and the church that the Lord created to deliver his message,” said Archbishop Jacub Mumblecorp. “People were not intended to study the Lord’s word on their own, and certainly not in English, the language of the masses. We fear this will lead to misinterpretation, confusion, and isolation.”
Because, you see, every time new technology arrives that gives more people access to information and communication, there’s an established ideology immediately threatened by it.

Many people know Wallace Shawn as the little self-described genius in “The Princess Bride” who keeps exclaiming that the continuing success of his nemesis is “Inconceivable!” I hope Mr. Shawn is getting a nice royalty from that movie, because he will never outlive that line, no matter how many times he voices a CGI toy dinosaur in Pixar films.

Others among us know Wallace Shawn as America’s most brilliant living playwright.  Which is why I, and other “eggheads of a certain theatrical stripe,” to quote the LA Times’ Charles McNulty, will be going to UCLA Live tonight night to hear Mr. Shawn read from his work and share his pointed views on the state of things.

I’m a great admirer of Paula Vogel’s play “How I Learned to Drive,” which is the sort of play that playwrights keen to write:  unexpected, theatrical, beautifully written, funny, highly entertaining, and enormously empathetic. The thing is a true achievement.  She’s also a teacher of playwriting, one that I would submit her students are lucky to have. This piece shares a bit about her teaching practice, as she takes students down what some of us consider the main drag of Philadelphia — South Street, setting for many of my youthful enjoyments — to find stories in the street, waiting to become plays.

(Thanks to Paul Crist for letting me know about this.)

Nothing beats the Internet for fun little joys found by accident. Case in point:

I’m tired of hearing people complain about Sarah Palin. Really. Because it isn’t doing them any good, and because it just feeds the Sarah Palin media machine, it comes across as counter-productive whining. So I’ll be curious to see if this will have any impact: “Ignore Sarah Palin Week,” which commences on February 28th. Please set a reminder for yourself.

Much as I appreciated the clip below, I’ll also be curious to see if Jon Stewart will participate.