How small is your world?

On Saturday we finished our 16-performance run of Eugene O’Neill’s A Moon For The Misbegotten. Here’s a cast photo:

I’m the one with the devil in his eyes. The handsome gent beside me is Jeff P. – He’s the guy who bought Bad Dream House from me. Turns out me and Jeff have a lot in common; we both adore The Eels, we often finish each other’s sentences, and we both married women who look like Mary-Louise Parker.

So… we were having drinks after the show… this old broad who was friends with the director sits down to chat with me about theater. Turns out she travels to London to see a lot of shows. While trying to remember a production she recently attended she blurts out,

“You’ll have to excuse me, honey, but I suffer from C.R.A.F.T…. Can’t Remember A Fucking Thing.”

What an astonishing coincidence, I think, so do I!

And that got me thinking about this song:

if i lay my head down
i will see you in my dream
wearing that polka dot dress
and sitting by the stream
leaning in to hear you
you will whisper in my ear
and everything i need to know
i finally hear

i wish i could remember
but my selective memory
won’t let me

when i was a baby
we would go out to the park
and sit out in the fountain
splashing ’round until it’s dark
the days go on forever
when you only know that much
and everything you need to know
is answered with one touch

i wish i could remember
but my selective memory
won’t let me


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