Several weeks ago, somebody asked me "If you could have a super-power, would it be invisibilty or the ability to fly?"
This is apparently some manner of pyschological query.
To me, it's a moot point: flight, obviously. I'm already invisible.
Almost any drama -- scene, act, play, whatever -- can have its whole meaning described in a single verbal exchange. In directorspeak, it's called a 'transaction.'
In the Glass Menagerie I directed -- and only in that single production, cause it very production from production -- it was Amanda's line, "I'm bewildered... by life." (scene two, by the by). How very appropiate for a group of 18 and 20 year olds doing Williams. What the fuck do they know about anything? Or what do we know now, five years on? It's such a perfect line, it can be so joyous or so tragic, but still is such a true description.
But why do I mention that?
Because I had such an exchange tonight:
Jay: *taps foot in rhythym to 'The Boy With the Arab Strap'*
Snooty boy: You like these guys?
Jay: You mean Belle and Sebastian?
SB: *looks Jay up and down with a sneer* Yeah, you look like a twee motherfucker who would.
A little later, they played the Smiths. I was dancing with some girl.
SB: *same boy, same sneer*: Figures...
Sometimes, I think 'cause I'm gay, I'm vastly separated from Everybody Else. I can go to some gathering, look like everybody else, talk like everybody else and still be on the other side of a huge gap. Much as I can look like it, I'm different from them. And they know it.
I've got this bottle of wine I got for my birthday a while back. I've refused to drink it alone because I think you shouldn't drink wine alone -- "Nothing can be sadder than a glass of wine alone" (Solomon Burke) -- but I've opened it tonight. Symbolism of me giving up on Romance. I shall grow old alone. I shall get several more cats and go quite mad. Jesus, Jane Austin was younger than me when she put on her spinster cap.
All I ask is that I don't turn into one of those creepy old guys who hit on 15 year olds.