Well, Ford’s theater has a new play, “Sabrina Fair.” It’s reviewed in today’s Post.* Conversation was a result. That’s good.
All’s right in the world. No, not the 1950’s Humphrey Bogart/Audrey Hepburn one, but the new ever-changing overclocked one. The one highlighting the three female Supremes now on the court in the item titled “Trial by attire,” (Style) the one where the economic blowback from the real estate crash is a gift that keeps on giving [content]: the latest layer of misery and denouement. So, many are upset. And they’re not going to take it what? anymore? as usual? under Obama?
As one such confounded confidante opined to me,
“This version [of the play] is so typically PC, using race instead of the once pre-eminent hackneyed wasp value scale of class.”
That doesn’t explain it all, even though it’s sort of supposed to.
But the point is, like an old style, you have to get over it and that’s typical of unsettling evolution and change. Yet, even as pragmatic powers that be would assuredly agree if I might comment on the continuing fall of the dollar and world economic warfare reasserting itself in the aftermath of the once and recent “golden age of international economic cooperation” in the heady days of the 2008 economic crisis, it’s not going to happen. They know. But the powers will not [agree] as it was asidedly advised that it would be rude of me to pop that in the chit-chat before dinner and besides they would have to kill me afterwards. Hell, it might even tend to upset the creaky economic lifeline keeping society and the global economy afloat, as around the bush as that is. I wish.
The energy of fear and conservatism and even greed, instinctively grasps at affirmation in styles, myth and entertainment. On the other hand, style and story can still be a clear, vector graphic icon of change. And that’s the good news. Doonesbury’s revelatory question of the day, “Your dream is to be over?” — then the reply from an aging rock band: “The sooner the better!” and “Over’s where the money is, man” beats handsdown a breathless “film at 6” style disclosure that another wheel indeed has flown off the American economic life-support wagon from L-the-Hutt. Both messages do not carry good news, but one comes with laughter, always a harbinger of good things. Security is threatened. Or not. Thumbs up or thumbs down.
This is fueling the national push among the demographiciti to stop foreclosures. The shell game of avoiding accountability crawls a few more precious inches toward a mirage that is a sentimental comfort when you can’t find your vision. The tinker-toy-esque real estate system that once fueled the American real estate bubble (and thus the global gizmo-building/knock-off) economy is now bared as a stallone-ish character attempting a flabby comeback. A victim of nostalgia clad in camos made in Textile City.
When nostalgia for the booming 1950’s through the mid-1980’s becomes the last refuge of the American Dreamer, the Great Oz is revealed. Who you gonna call?
Russell Imrie is a sometimes content producer, webmaster and American Indian self-styled social critic now living in the Washington DC area. Ford’s Theater (where Abraham Lincoln was gunned down) is featuring “Sabrina Fair” in a new, relevant version. * Washington Post home delivered today, Saturday, October 9, 2010.