You ever watch science fiction movies? Then you know that any time there is a vortex of any kind, time or otherwise, it is represented by a stylized version of the funnel made by water in a flushing toilet. Not only that, but the sound is vaguely reminiscent of the swoosh as well.
Well, that is what’s happening to me. My time is being sucked down the sewage system of life while we try to tie up our Paraguayan world in preparation for our impending visit. (I like saying “impending visit. It sounds ominous but it really isn’t.)
So to buy myself some extra time, I am pointing you to some classic Barba posts. I hope you enjoy these reruns.
I reread Save-My-Seat Inflatable Jesus a few days ago and laughed. That’s right. I laughed at my own writing. It’s ridiculous and I hope you think so, too.
Have you ever greeted your way into the sanctuary, your internal GPS on autopilot? As you beeline to left side, fifth row, outside edge, you find some poor lost soul with his keaster firmly planted inyour seat. Clearly he’s a visitor or he would know this has been your nesting spot since before Falco rocked Amadeus. Maybe you feel like Edna:
“Of course, I want to see the church grow. I love it when we have new faces in the crowd, just not in my seat. I’ve been sittin’ on that pew for 41 years. Jesus recognizes it as my spiritual address.”–Edna Stifle