Lucky Socialist.

Last night I enjoyed the unique indulgence of attending a performance at the Californian Shakespeare Theater, or Calshakes. I was invited by my friend, Ann Larie, who happens to be one of their many Ambassadors, proffering cheapy tickets.

As we wandered into the eucalypt glade, Annette Bening from 1982 and another chap who may well have been eye-lined looked upon us from large posters, and the gentle hubbub of several picnickers greeted our ears. We took our place at several ambassadorially reserved tables and proceed to munch on loads of cheese, vino, some homegrown lemon cucumbers and other morsels.

I had the pleasure of meeting a chap called Bob Glushko, who explained to me that he was old skool Silicon Valley, but now a professor at Berkeley and interested in document choreography and semantics in the wild. Needless to say we had a brief, engaging chat and agreed to meet each other again.

Only upon receiving the program did I realise that we were to see Man and Superman, by George Bernard Shaw; a surprisingly forward tale of two lovers, sex, philosophy, death etc. It was foggy in the glade, and towards the end of the performance I became concerned that the actors wouldn't be able to maintain their projection in the face of wind and cold. (The theatre is outside.)

Wonderful to see some theatre again. I had thoughts of buying the play to re-read. Lucky Socialist because there was a line in there somewhere about an English aristocrat who felt he was socialist, and yet his driver 'Enry made sure to remind him that it's usually only the wealthy who can indulge in actual faith in socialism.