June 30, 2020

Woke still groggy from last night’s dose of Mucinex.  Thought I had one more day left I June.

SS here to talk about the initiation of the Sublime publication program. He has everything magnificently worked out. I was berated for my insufficiency in proofreading.

At evening I bestirred myself, got the hand truck from the shed, moved the rest of my books from Karpen Hall. A number of paintings and art items remain, but they’re not heavy and can be taken care of in one load, I think. I hope I won’t be required to undertake anything like that again.

I see by university mail that SW is retiring, too. Once upon a time he and I would have made a wonderful team, but the Drama Department’s insecurities could not be overcome. We are all, this year, ending with a whimper.

Scott responds to my congratulatory email:
Thank you, David! I regret that departmental politics got in the way of a better collaboration between us -- I know the students want much more involvement with the playwriting students. Maybe the next generation can pull it off. I hope you are enjoying retirement as much as I am -- it is nice to be doing only those responsibilities that I have chosen myself.

I confessed I didn’t understand what those departmental politics were after the departure of my main adversary– who had invented the controversy himself out of thin air–and S said there were “weird feelings” on the part of his colleagues that kept him from reaching out. . . though he admitted that I had reached out by, time and again, auditioning for and acting in plays there, even when it was uncomfortable. I knew that a collaboration between us would have been joyful and fulfilling for me and saved his department from its long-standing and dreary mediocrity. . . no, a little worse than mediocrity. But, “weird feelings”. . . It’s all best left behind with as little afterthought as possible.