Good morning, all! The alarm went off at 5 am and woke me up from a dream in which Jason Graae had come to visit and was messing up my apartment and I was tagging after him puttinh things back in their proper places. At least it was better than the dream earlier around midnight in which my brother was dressed as Santa Claus and carrying an axe!
I'm all packed for DC, and I'm hoping the trains are truly back on schedule.
I've begun an interesting book called FORTISSIMO, by a New Yorker who spent a year observing the young artists of the Chicago Lyric Opera. I'm enjoying it.
I have little else to report except that I cannot wait to get on the train and nap.
I'm sorry to hear of your plsne complications, BK, I hope everything is clear sailing. Am I mixing metaphors?
TOD:
The Fuller Brush Man (Red Skelton)
I can think of screwball comedy, farce, and others, but I can think of no other slapstick than It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World