Like the Sopranos, only lower. That was the only description available for the play that Cliff and I went to see last weekend. Though I'd never seen the TV series, I somehow knew that that had been about a Mafia gang. So I wasn't sure what to expect -- a grisly Mafia tale, or maybe a spoof.
It was a nice sunny, warm afternoon that day, and several of the actors were outside meeting the patrons. "Glad you could make it to my uncle Tony's funeral," was Chris Altos' typical greeting. He and I got into a discussion -- he eyed me sitting in my scooter -- "You shua you aint heer to blow up da joint?" I assured him I wasn't. He may have believed me. I asked how his uncle died. Chris said Tony was blown up in his SUV, and the explosion was so big that only bits and pieces of Uncle Tony were left. My immediate suspicion was that dear Uncle Tony wasn't dead, but I kept this conclusion to myself. This did turn out to be a spoof -- quite funny, actually. But I'm not giving anything away in case this gem turns up in your neighborhood sometime in the future. Shua.
"What's wrong?" a teacher asked one of her young students. He was at his desk, looking as though he were about to burst into tears. "M-m-my grandfather," he stammered. "Gone away." "Sorry," said the teacher, "but he's in a wonderful place now. Do you know where that is?" "Yes," he said, "he's in prison."
Now I swear I did not choose that joke to go with the posting, but it does seem somewhat appropriate, no?
I don't post on Sundays, so I'll see you all on Monday.