Saturday, June 5.

Carol’s tickets arrived - thank you, Carol. But, alas, the persons who had expressed interest in the tickets declined rather at the last minute.

What a rainy day! Afraid the play will be cancelled.

Mimi called. She is coming down with a cold, so won’t attend the play.

Eileen arrived. Said the weather had made her think about not coming but, bless her, she came anyway. So glad she’s here. It’s been too long since we last saw each other. We talked. And talked. Lots to catch up on, even though our phone conversations generally last one to three hours!

Loretta arrived, the first time we’ve met. She is a nice person, and very resourceful. She had already stopped by Carter Barron to check out the parking area, then asked a park ranger (the amphitheatre is in Rock Creek National Park) if she thought the play would go on. The ranger said yes, if the rain remains a drizzle. My term for Loretta’s fact-finding mission is “casey-ing the joint”. [bad pun - barometer plummets to its lowest point!]

5:30 PM: Il Tesoro.

Loretta had a tomato-based entrée; Eileen, gourmet pizza; and I, soup - tortellini in a clear broth, perfect for a chilly evening.

Drizzle, Drizzle, Toil, and Trizzle
(well, you know what I mean)

It amazes me to find a national park in such a densely populated area as DC. The park is large. There are lots of trees - a woods, really - before one reaches the amphitheatre. It was only 66°F, drizzly, and dead 17-year cicadas littered the pathways. As far as the cicadas are concerned, dead is good; that weekend, by the way, was their last gasp until 2021, which is far too soon, if you ask me.

Eileen and I stopped at a table to purchase Shakespeare Theatre plastic ponchos for $3 apiece. This was in addition to wearing warm shirts, trousers, & jackets. Loretta was even more prepared. In addition to sweater and trousers, she wore her winter all-weather coat, complete with liner, plus a baseball cap, and a plastic hood.

In the reserved section, Loretta found us seats in the 5th row, center. I looked round the amphitheatre. I saw a tall guy with a volunteer vest and climbed over half a dozen people to the next aisle to have a look at his name tag. Sure enough, it was Dan. I introduced myself to him, and we had a pleasant chat.

Back in 5th row center, Loretta, Eileen, and I put plastic bags on the wet seats and tried to make ourselves as comfortable as we could. We were dressed in layers and in plastic. Loretta periodically stuffed her hands in her coat pockets. Eileen had a small afghan for extra warmth. I had brought a towel from the hotel (which I dutifully returned) to keep my hands dry. When the towel grew wet, Eileen handed me an extra afghan. Increase the three of us to half-an-amphitheatre-full of inventive people, and you have an idea of the multiplicity of heavy coats, ponchos, and plastic bags, and of how strange the audience must have looked to the actors. But what the heck, we were an audience.

Did I enjoy sitting in a chill drizzle for 2½ hours? Well, no. It was very uncomfortable. But fortunately humans are mental as well as physical creatures, and I loved the play. Imagine the pleasure of hearing Shakespearean English. Imagine hearing it in a 1920’s stagesetting. Imagine at one point much of the cast doing the Charleston. Might sound odd, but it worked!

The only disconcerting thing was that, when the actors spoke, we could see their breaths. And they did not have the advantage of wearing coats or layered clothing. Even with the heat of the spotlights, they must have been chilled.