August 20, 2011

Went to Vance last night with Chris Lambert, who turns out to be from the same part of the world as I. We kept naming common places with a tone of amazement. After stops at Case Western Reserve and Australia, he’s in Asheville to live the Starving Artist phase of his life, about which he is being mindful and deliberate, setting himself intricate exercises to improve his writing stamina. His mother teaches at Kent State, where she sings the same corporatization-of-the-academy dirge that I do. After all his citations of the European avant-garde, I was afraid he’d find the play over-folksy, but he claimed to like it fine. Drinks at Avenue M, where the crew of Vance materialized around us. C is so charming the waitress bought him a drink. Arrived home to discover I had betrayed John L and his guests by assuming it was tonight I was to meet them rather than last night. There has to be something creepy every time, I suppose, for the lords of the shadow to be satisfied. Theater all but sold out.