My Musings

This text is currently hidden by a css change. Alow's me to go directly to the category description because it is editable in the front end,

Yet Another Gun Farce

I haven't attended an actual theatrical farce since the late 1980s, when I went to see Joe Orton's "What the Butler Saw," accompanied by a woman with whom I was hopelessly infatuated. My strongest memories of that evening – in the darkness of a tiny theater somewhere on Charles Street in Boston (need to check the facts on that) – are less about the comedy itself than the revelation that we humans spew an incredible amount of saliva when we talk.

The director of this production had backlit the stage, such that every time the actors yelled – especially the balding guy playing the central character of Dr. Prentiss – the audience saw impossibly huge clouds of salivary droplets spewing into the air. It was both comical and disgusting and went on for a couple of hours. At times it was hard to follow the play because I was so awestruck by the bursts of goo coming out of the actors' mouths. It didn't exactly provide the romantic atmosphere I was hoping for that evening.

One day, when I was in grade school – call it fifth grade – a teacher angrily hollered at us for treating English class as a farce, which made me laugh because, as a French Canadian, I had many times eaten a meat stuffing called "farce." Then she yelled "Patrick McVay wipe that smirk off your face now!" I might not remember many of the world's thorniest crises of that era, but I remember her saying "farce" and me laughing about it.

Calling our behavior a farce was, to be honest, inaccurate. It was more of a circus. Farces, to my mind, have a pattern to them. Several doors as well. There was only one door in my fifth-grade English class, and our unruly behavior had no discernable pattern.

I've never written a farce, but I did once claim, in these very pages, that I was going to write one called "Gun Farce." I'm guessing that I posted that blog entry shortly after a mass shooting occurred. I won't even bother to check what mass shooting might have happened around January 13, 2013, because, let's face it, they happen just about every day in these increasingly disunited states.

Sometimes, I feel that penning a play around the general contours of my Gun Farce blog entry would be worth the effort, if nothing else to assuage the guilt I feel for doing otherwise little to combat the conditions that enable teenagers to waltz into gun shops and purchase semi-automatic rifles without a license and use them to murder children in their classrooms en masse. However, I don't think it would end up being terribly funny. It's hard to lighten the mood when a minority of Americans are arming themselves to the hilt. It feels eerily like preparation for war, except the enemy is, apparently, young people in school.

Maybe what I'll do instead is write a farce about the US Senate. After all, the Capitol has lots of doors, the principal characters are mad, and there is a decades-long pattern of defending the purchase and sale of guns at any cost.

Continue reading
  324 Hits



J'Biden Era Haikuage


People's Arms. That's right!

200 million shots

In 100 days


We are good people

But we still have far to go

Repair. Restore. Heal.


There's nothing new here

The Affordable Care Act

We're restoring it 


America's Day

Democracy is fragile

The world is watching 


Strategy is based

On Science, not politics

Truth, not denial



Subscribe To The Blog

Produce This Audio Play!

Ever wanted to produce a radio play?  Think you have the mettle?  Read on!

Tag Cloud

nukes Bands I've seen My Estate Pats Red Sox Skating Politics As Usual Mustard COVID Audubon Bar technology Food Advertising cornhole Folk Music Quebect baseball Sports Liz Phair Cornhole star Rabbit Hole The Future The Past US Senate Weather Things I've done Barber Shops Eating and Drinking Belgian Ales Religion Scotch and Sirloin Me Texting Eclipse Snow Guns Christmas Higher Education acerbic high school principal the future midwinter vacations Canadiana The Old Days Hawaii Ticketmaster Email Mike Doughty Skiing Hot Air Balloon Rock Bands Knots Peacekeeping Work Wind Grass Skiing Golf NPR Ice Dancing Bob Dylan Bands I've Seen afterlife Imaginings Climate Change Bunker Trump TV My grandparents COVID-19 Cars Soup Sugarbush Diseases Allergies Roommates I've Had Spice Girls New England seasons Ukraine People I know Canada Vaccines the sea Music Mom and Dad gathering throngs Communication Channels Plastic Soul Coughing Dad advice Bikes My Parents Martinis vacation Ketchup Biden Coyotes Bicycles Them Kids My sisters Guns and Ammo coronavirus Mass General Hospital high winds weather Boston Hurricanes Art town square Accounting War and Peace When I die Reveillon Hand Planes Cats Chowder Vaughn Bodysurfing Spoon the band China Soviet Union Theater Syracuse plan mid-winter vacations soapbox rantings Putin Royal Stuff Zoom Fiction Stairs Hache Verde punk music Earth 1980s Audio Bands I haven't seen Existential Crisis Brain Surgery Good Reads curling shoes Tom Waits tambourrine The future Beer Drumming Yeast