Les Belles Seours was one wild play. Hairspray 'dos, stamps flying everywhere, women in curlers growling at each other, a woman (played by someone who looked identical to Joan Cusack) beaning her old mother-in-law on the head every few minutes. An hysterical ode to bingo. And a Greek chorus, the last thing you'd expect to see in a Montreal kitchen.
I suspect the playwright had a lot of female relatives and neighbors.
Driving to Minnesota today! It's a beautiful, blue, cloudless day. Which means we'll probably get caught in the Storm of the Century sooner or later. Oh, well. We'll have fun anyway.
I'm bringing lots of treats with me. For my brother (and don't tell him if you're reading this, mom...) I taped a half-hour of incredibly bad Canadian television: A few seconds of a hippie dance retreat on VisionTV, lots of stuff on Treehouse (the scariest channel of all), a lisping comedienne in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform doing a finger-puppet show, etc. It doesn't take long to find bad TV. Every other channel offers up fresh delights. Oh, here's a guy tracking some kind of warthog! And here's a show about bikers and their puppies!
We're well-equipped for the trip: Bill Bryson reading A Short History of Nearly Everything on CD, the first three Harry Potter books which I haven't even read yet, and lots of C2 Coke for myself. And coffee for Richard, of course. So we can stop every four-and-a-half minutes along the way. (Joking! It's more like every 20 minutes.)
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