Report from the Camp Pain Trail…


photo by Deb Sherman

First of all, there is a really good pitch about the ‘debate’ last week on Fog City Journal. It’s an online mag that’s got squishy liberal all over it, but the Crackberry writer is a swell wordsmith and the photographer is second only to Lane. Even if he’s a Brit with no sense of humor. Great photos of the zombies and a chance to peek at Eric Jaye, Gavin’s Campaign Manager guy. Not that I’m implying that Eric Jaye is a zombie. You’re jumping to conclusions. Again.


The link for the Silver Crest Donut Shop didn’t work in my last email. Because I don’t actually know how to work a computer. Here it is:

We meet at 10:00 Sunday morning for a Wholesome Day’s activity. See there is an RSVP list there. Were at 32 now, 40 max.


Week 8 of the Public Financing Debacle. The last I heard from them today, a lease isn’t proof of address. Neither is a license that a donor got because he didn’t have proof of address. Because he got it AFTER the donation (like they asked him to), it’s not proof that he lived there WHEN HE MADE THE DONATION. I know that this stuff probably isn’t very interesting to you… but it’s really fascinating to me. It’s like being on another planet or in another culture. Right here in my own city. With baffled bewilderment I listen to the words slowly come out of the bureaucrats mouth, as they sentence me to another round of me driving around San Francisco knocking on donors doors asking them to sign another document or scan another piece of mail or a pay stub. All to prove that 250 who have $100 each support the City of Art and Innovation. So that a box can be checked on a form in a file in a drawer in a basement that no one will ever look at again. The process of qualifying for the program has been nothing short of Olympian. The simple fact is that the election is upon us, and they will not part with the money. We defiantly qualified. If there is comedy here, it is hiding behind a huge block of wasted time… but I continue to hunt… there has never been a candidate who has gotten to know his donors better than me. I’ve been to most of your houses. I know how much your electric bill is. I know where the last 3 places you lived. I’ve seen some of you in bathrobes, towels, evening gowns and I’ve met your husbands, your girlfriends and your kids. Although nothing like I thought it would be, the life lessons that I’m being afforded are unparalleled. The talent surrounding this is hysterical. The sheer lost opportunity of it all makes you wanna cackle like a hyena. In the end, it’s the possibility that “anything can happen”. That’s what theatre is all about. That’s why you go to a live show. You wanna be there for the magic of possibility graduating into a confluence of now. And that’s why improv is even better. Because without a script, the “anything can happen” part becomes a bonus multiplier.

Things are about to get interesting…

Thanks for watching…



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