Bonne Chance @ DAHplaytime

I have too many unread books. I'm suffering chronic reader's remorse, book-buyer's remorse. They call to me from the shelves as I walk by.

Mulling Over The Future

DAH:   What next?

Monkey:   What what next?

DAH:   I'm just mulling over the future.

Monkey:   Mulling? 

DAH:   Yeah, mulling.

Monkey:   Like adding spices to wine?

DAH:   No.

Monkey:   Like joining two doors or windows together?

DAH:   No.

Monkey:   Like fermenting tobacco?

DAH:   No.

Monkey:   Like steaming felt or straw before blocking?

DAH:   No. 

Monkey:   Like a holiday tramp around an island in the Inner Hebrides?

DAH:   Uh, no.

Monkey:   Like something to do with a layer of non-acidic humus formed in well-drained and aerated soil?  

DAH:   WHAT!? Really, no.

Monkey:   Then what the heck are you talking about?

DAH:   The future. When I think about it, there are lots of possibilities, but I have to choose if I want to actualize the possibilities that make sense for me, that have meaning.

Monkey:   Oh, you mean like pondering, or studying on an idea or notion.

DAH:   Yes.

Monkey:   Then why didn't you say so?

DAH:   I thought I did.

Monkey:   Too many possibilities, buddy. Too many possibilities.

DAH:   Yes.

DAH is David Anthony Hance at DAHplaytime

DAH: Just Visiting

I wrote this in 2004, for a collaborative performance piece called "Of All Places." For whatever reason I started thinking about this monologue over the weekend (OK, I can conjure about the reason, it's not a mystery). I've added an update at the end.

We lived in Santa Monica, Mom and Dad and me, when we first came to California. I cried, says Mom, whenever we took a car trip away from town. I wasn’t happy away from people and their places.

I come from a place I’ve never lived. My parents immigrated to California when I was scarcely a year old. They never became U.S. citizens. I was an English citizen until I was nearly 40. So, I’ve spent most of my life in California, labeled with a specific legal status: “Resident Alien.” Being from somewhere else, somewhere not here, is a big part of what made me me … just visiting, a permanent alien.

Since I’m just visiting, time and place are magical concepts:

Time is the fire in which we all burn. That gives us all an essential commonality: We’re all just visiting, all just fuel for the fire of human time.

Place is a wondrous, complex interplay between nature and people, interacting with nature and each other, over time.

When I think of home it seems for me a journey … from a mythical England where I never lived – an England of kings and queens, of Robin Hood and Shakespeare and Sherlock Holmes, of rolling green hills and ancient, magical woods – to California’s North Coast.

I don’t have children of my own. My family’s visit here is soon ended. We burn away in the fire of time and leave behind only the residue of how we acted in this place, how we spent our brief flame of life, with nature here, and people here, all of us, all of you, just visiting.

UPDATE: And now we're in San Luis Obispo, California. Which was not even a glimmer in my imagining when I wrote my story for "Of All Places." And we're making new friends and new experiences, with shadows of the past flitting large and small through my mind. Like black and white photos, some of them beginning to fade, tucked away in an old favorite book, and found again, with surprise, once in a while. Remembering, who I once was, as the journey of this oh-so-brief visit continues.

Alone in the woods, can Monkey's scream be heard?

DAH: You're kinda quiet.

Monkey: Nothing to say.

DAH: That's unlike you.

Monkey: Unlike you, you mean.

DAH: We do have a certain kinship.

Monkey: Peculiar, that.

DAH: Yeah.

Monkey:

DAH: Nothing to say, really?

Monkey: I've adopted some of your rules.

DAH: Such as?

Monkey: "Talk less."

DAH: That is one of my rules. I don't always obey it.

Monkey: "Avoid talking about yourself."

DAH: People would rather talk about themselves than hear about me.

Monkey: Or me.

DAH: Except in these monkey-posts, of course.

Monkey: Of course.

DAH: There are always exceptions.

Monkey: Blah, blah, blah.

DAH: Tired of talking? I thought I was drawing you out.

Monkey: Tired of random blather. Here's a tip: Have a point.

DAH: You lifted that from some movie, didn't you? It sounds familiar.

Monkey: I'm trying to remind you about another rule.

DAH: "Speak only with a purpose."

Monkey: That's it.

DAH: Talk less. Don't talk about yourself. Speak only with a purpose. I sound like kind of a quiet guy.

Monkey: And yet --

DAH: But maybe we need to make some noise in the world. Maybe we need to do something that says, "I'm here!"

Monkey: Now you sound arrogant and self-important again. Me, me, me.

DAH: Geez, you're a tough -- "friend."

Monkey: I am but as I am made.

DAH: And I'll try to stick to my rules.

Monkey: Good.

DAH: Good.

Monkey: Still, a silly little song now and then wouldn't hurt.

DAH is David Anthony Hance. Monkey just is. DavidAnthonyHance.com

Meet Monkey

DAH: Who's that?

Monkey: Allow me to introduce Singe de Chaussette.

DAH: Is she French?

Monkey: How should I know?

DAH: Does she talk?

Monkey: I speak for her.

DAH: How did she tell you her name?

Monkey: She's sitting right here. Use her name, please. Have a little couth.

DAH: How did Singe de Chaussette tell you her name?

Monkey: We monkeys just know these things. We have no need for words.

DAH: For someone with "no need for words" you talk rather a lot.

Monkey: And whose fault is that?

DAH: Right. Fair enough. Where did Singe come from?

Monkey: Joyce.

DAH: Excuse me?

Monkey: Joyce.

DAH: Is that a place? A place in France?

Monkey: How should I know?

DAH: Wait. You mean "Joyce," don't you? A person, our friend named Joyce. I thought you meant some French place, like "Joyeux" or something.

Monkey: Then why would I have said it with that sibilant ending? And is there really some place in France called "Joyeux?" I thought it was just something the French said before "Noel."

DAH: Forget it. I understand. Singe de Chaussette was a gift to Christine from our friend Joyce.

Monkey: Whatever.

DAH: I just didn't remember the gift having a name.

Monkey: And so you're surprised? Why be surprised that you don't know something? Just because you don't know something doesn't mean something can't be. Do you think you could or should know everything? That is so arrogant, or naive. Give me a break.

DAH: Whoa! Turn down the righteous indignation, buddy.

Monkey: OK. I forgive you.

DAH: Thanks, I guess. So, I suppose you have a name, too?

Monkey: Promise not to be surprised?

DAH: I promise.

Monkey: Well, I go by my first initial, "S."

DAH: That's it? Just "S?"

Monkey: S. Monkey.

DAH: Oh. I always call you "Monkey," and you seem cool with that.

Monkey: Just like Kevin at the theater always calls you "Hance," and you seem cool with that.

DAH: Oh. Got it.

Monkey: You're always guessing, making assumptions, and jumping to conclusions ... then building imaginary castles of conceit upon those sandy foundations.

DAH: "Always?" That's a little harsh.

Monkey: I call 'em like I see 'em.

DAH: And I think your castles-built-on-sand thing is true about most people I know.

Monkey: And I'd call that correct.

DAH: Well, fine. I've got to get back to work.

Monkey: Say good bye to Singe de Chaussette.

DAH: Good bye, Singe de Chaussette. Have fun with S. Monkey.

Singe de Chaussette:

Monkey: She says "au revoir."

DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. S.Monkey is my ... friend. DavidAnthonyHance.com

Smiler with a Knife

Monkey: Hey.

DAH: Hey, back at ya.

Monkey:

DAH: What're you doing?

Monkey:

DAH: Just sitting there smiling?

Monkey:

DAH: It's kinda creepy.

Monkey: Yeah.

DAH: Like a smiler with a knife.

Monkey: That sounds cool! What is it?

DAH: It's from Chaucer, actually.

Monkey: Where's Chaucer? Wait, is that near Cucamonga?

DAH: Geoffrey Chaucer.

Monkey: And who, praytell, is Geoffrey Chaucer when he's at home?

DAH: He was a 14th Century English author. He wrote 'The Canterbury Tales.' It's from one of those stories, 'The Knight's Tale,' -- 'The smiler with the knife beneath the cloak.'

Monkey: It still sounds cool. Scary.

DAH: Suspenseful. The idea that someone could seem safe and friendly, but might have a hidden knife, ready to slip between your ribs.

Monkey: I'm not too worried. No ribs. I'm just a stuffed sock, really.

DAH: Stuffed sock?

Monkey: Never mind. Talk more about the smiler.

DAH: Well, I like the whole notion of the smiler with a knife. The idea that there is always risk, and lurking danger, even when you think you're safe.

Monkey: Something might happen.

DAH: Anything might happen.

Monkey: So it's potential, too. If anything might happen, something good might happen. Maybe the smiler is there to protect us.

DAH: Or something bad. Maybe the smiler is just lulling you into a false sense of security. It's a kind of tension, balanced on the sharp edge of that blade.

Monkey: Yeah. Scary.

DAH: I'd kind of like to live my life like that. I do, on stage, when I'm acting.

Monkey: What?

DAH: Even if I'm calm on the surface, I want to be wound tight inside, channeling all energy, for good or ill, like a force of nature. I think people pay attention to that. They can feel that something is about to happen. They just don't know what. So they have to keep watching.

Monkey: Now you're starting to sound a little self-absorbed and crazy. Kinda intense.

DAH: Maybe.

Monkey:

DAH: Just sitting there smiling again, huh?

Monkey:

DAH: Am I just supposed to watch you?

Monkey: Maybe I've got a knife.

DAH: Stuffed sock.

DAH is David Anthony Hance at www.DAHplaytime.com

Five Movies

Know me through five movies.

They're not really my five favorite movies (although I do like them all).

But they do all represent something essential of me.

Do you know 'zeitgeist?'

Think of these movies as varied expressions of 'DAHgeist.'

(OK, all I really needed was the 'geist' bit of German, but I figured nobody would understand what I was talking about. Whereas, some of you might have heard or read about 'zeitgeist' – although that word really only serves to introduce and explain the concept of 'geist')

I don't know that I need say anything more.

Either you've seen these movies, and remember them, in which case you already know me.

Or you will try to see some of these movies, because you'd like to get inside my head a bit more.

Or you really don't care that much.

That's OK, too.

These are the five movies. Seems like there ought to be common link. But the only thing I can see offhand is that Hal Ashby directed two of them.

The Philadelphia Story (1940)

Harold and Maude (1971)

Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)

Being There (1979)

Say Anything (1989)

DAH is David Anthony Hance at www.DAHplaytime.com

Abo Ovo, IMMO

Monkey: I love my job. It's the work I can't stand.

DAH: What're you talking about? You don't have a job.

Monkey: Sure I do. I set you up to make jokes.

DAH: And you love that.

Monkey: Yes, I do.

DAH: But you can't stand the work.

Monkey: Listen, my friend. It isn't that easy, making you look good. Or funny.

DAH: Oh, but you sure make it look easy. You never seem to lift a finger. Or move your lips.

Monkey: Don't talk about my lips. I'm particularly self-conscious about how red they are.

DAH: Sorry.

Monkey: Have you always been this way?

DAH: Probably. You'll have to ask my Mom.

Monkey: I won't have to ask her. I'm sure she'll comment on this post.

DAH: Abo ovo, I expect.

Monkey: What's that?

DAH: Latin. It means 'from the egg' - so, 'from the beginning.'

Monkey: You mean you, and being silly?

DAH: Yes, I do. And I also blame that little English history primer parody '1066 And All That,' and I blame Monty Python.

Monkey: Do you really mean 'blame?' Wouldn't 'thank' be a little closer to the truth?

DAH: That depends on how jolly I'm feeling about life on any given day.

Monkey: Excuse me for not setting you up for a joke, but IMMO you do yourself and the world sort of a service feeling happy about smiling and encouraging others to smile.

DAH: I guess. IMMO?

Monkey: Text-speak. Like BTW, FYI, and LOL.

DAH: Do you mean IMHO? 'In My Humble Opinion?'

Monkey. Nothing humble about me, buddy. 'In My Monkey Opinion.'

DAH: Not setting me up for a joke, huh?

Monkey: It was a weak joke.

DAH: And yet, I'm smiling.

Monkey: You're welcome.

DAH is David Anthony Hance at www.DAHplaytime.com

Yucca Monkey

DAH: Sit still.

Monkey: These leaf things are spiky!

DAH: This will only take a minute.

Monkey: I don't know how you get me into these things.

DAH: I pick you up and put you down. That's all.

Monkey: You're always putting me down. Seems like you ought to pick me up more often. I can always use a little lift more than I can use a put down.

DAH: I place you carefully.

Monkey: Fine. But why?

DAH: I'm testing something.

Monkey: Testing what? How sensitive my knitted behind is to poky plants?

DAH: It's a yucca.

Monkey: It certainly is. And an 'oucha!'

DAH: I mean the plant. It's a yucca.

Monkey: Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm. But you never explained what you're testing.

DAH: These two cameras. I'm taking photographs of the same things with each in turn, to compare their output.

Monkey: And you think anyone wants to see a picture of me on yucca leaves?

DAH: Not really, although you are very handsome.

Monkey: Thank you.

DAH: I'm just taking pictures of any old thing, different sorts of things, to see how the photos from these two different cameras turn out, and how they differ from one another.

Monkey: 'Any old thing.' Very flattering, I'm sure. So, you're a experimental camera scientist now?

DAH: Just two old cameras, new to me. Both belonged to my Dad. One's 20 years older than the other. Both use 35mm film. I'm just trying them out, learning about them.

Monkey: So, how come you're taking a picture of me with your Blackberry, too?

DAH: I need a digital shot for this blog post, silly. I still need to take the film to be developed and printed.

Monkey: You want it all. Instant gratification AND old school photography.

DAH: That's right. That's me. That's now.

DAH is David Anthony Hance at www.DAHplaytime.com

Monkey is usually quieter.

SLO Days

On Sunday Christine and I walked over the Jennifer Street footbridge, through the Railroad District, and into downtown San Luis Obispo. It's a 20 minute walk to the Mission (established before the United States was the United States!).

The annual I Madonnari Italian Street Painting Festival was in its second day. Sidewalk chalk for adults and artists, with a section for kids to try out their skills, too. The photos here are from the Festival.

I Madonnari was in the Monday newspaper, The Tribune. As were several other things that made me happy to live in San Luis Obispo County. Such as -

It appears that SLO County has 152 avocado growers who farm a total of 4,200 acres. That's an average of about 28 acres per ranch. One of the avocado growers, a former County supervisor, said, 'We're different than the Southern California growers. We're smaller, owner-managed. Most of us walk our trees daily. They're full of fruit.'

The same page of today's paper reported, with photos, on the third annual Dog Splash Days in Templeton. The Templeton Community Pool is opened for dog swimming, with doggie lifeguards, life vests, dog ramps, and dog swim therapists. Apparently, this event marks the end of summer in some way. After Dog Splash Days the pool is shut down, drained and cleaned. Since it was pretty warm last week, I guess these were the dog days of summer.

The 'From the Vault' section of The Tribune showed photos of the (now gone) Southern Pacific Railroad roundhouse in SLO. A road called Roundhouse is all that remains, but the column mentioned the nascent Central Coast Railroad Festival, of which I knew nothing, but about which I'm rather excited.

Finally, it is WOW week at Cal Poly. 3,500 new students are expected to participate in the university's annual 'Week Of Welcome.' It should become obvious, at least downtown, that the students are back.

The SLO days of summer, which I somehow missed by working a lot, must be over.

DAH is David Anthony Hance at www.DAHplaytime.com