Directions -- a One-Act

Directions – a One-Act
Setting: A middle-aged couple in a car moving through an urban area – the male drives.


Jeanne: If we’re going through downtown we should stop and pick up Vivian.

Noah: Alright. We can do that. [Jeanne is already calling Vivian on her cell phone].

Jeanne: [into the cell phone] Noah says we can pick you up . . . that’s right . . . you’re off work now, right? . . . . Good so . . . hold on. . . . Noah, where should I tell her to wait for us?

Noah: Where’s her internship?

Jeanne [back to Vivian]: Where do you want to go for dinner. [to Noah] She works on . . . [to Vivian] where exactly are you? . . . Right now? . . . you’re there now? . . . in five minutes? [to Noah] Noah, will we be there in 5 minutes?

Noah: Where is “there” . . . .

Jeanne: [to Vivian] Just wait for us, Vivi. We’ll be there in a minute . . . . [to Noah] Noah, she works on K St. at Farragut Square. [to Vivian] No, we had pizza last night.

Noah: Tell her to walk to the other side of the square.

Jeanne: And then what?

Noah: And wait there.

Jeanne: Just anywhere on the other side of the square? It’s a big square. [to Vivian] Hold on. What? Yum! Lebanese sounds good. [to Noah] She wants Lebanese. [to Vivian] You want to know if we can just . . . .

Noah: Can always do Lebanese.

Jeanne: [to Vivian] Noah likes Lebanese. [to Noah] Can we pick her up on Perry? That’s what she wants to know. [to Vivian] Vivian, we just had fish tacos two nights ago. [to Noah] Do you want fish tacos again so soon?

Noah: Okay, tell her to go to the corner of K and 17th, but . . . .

Jeanne: [to Vivian] Did you hear that?

Noah: But tell her to walk to the corner and then go kitty-corner across the street.

Jeanne: Kitty-corner? What’s “kitty-corner”? [to Vivian] I don’t know either. [to Noah] She doesn’t know what “kitty-corner” means and I don’t either. “Kitty-corner” – I’ve never heard of that and how she’s supposed . . . . and now she’s scared she won’t be in the right spot.

Noah: Well . . . we’ll see her. She’ll see us. I’m just saying that it would be more convenient if she could walk to the corner and then go kitty-corner . . . .

Jeanne: [to Vivian] So it’s really “catty-corner” not “kitty-corner”? [to Noah] It’s not “kitty-corner”, it’s “catty-corner.” Vivian googled it.

Noah: Googled it? What? “Kitty-corner”? Well, fine, whatever, but just have her go, you know, diagonally, to the opposite corner.

Jeanne: She can’t cross the street diagonally.

Noah: Just tell her to wait at the corner and . . . .

Jeanne: Here, you talk to her and tell her where to be [hands Noah the cell phone which Noah does not reach for.]

Noah: You know, all she needs to do is . . . .

Jeanne: You tell her. You know where you’re going. [Suddenly pulls phone back and then, to Vivian] Check to see if the Lebanese Taverna is open on Mondays. [thrusts phone back to Noah.]

Noah: Look, just tell her to . . . .

Jeanne: You should tell her so that you two know exactly where to be.

Noah: We don’t need to be exact . . . .

Jeanne: [to Vivian] I think you should . . .Vivi? Vivi? Are you . . . It IS open on Mondays? Okay, but I think you should talk to Noah directly, but he . . . [to Noah] Can’t you just tell her where to be? [to Vivian] You see us? Well, where are you? I don’t see you. [to Noah] She can see us. Do you see her?

Noah: Where should I be look . . . .

Jeanne: Tell her where to be.

Noah: Have her walk to the corner by the little lawn and then cross K St. and then cross 17th and wait.

Jeanne: [attempting to hand over the phone]. Here, you tell her. That’s too much.

Noah: [pretending not to see the phone] Walk to lawn at the corner and then cross over kitty-corner from there to . . . . I see her.

Jeanne: You mean “catty-corner”? There’s no “kitty-corner.”

Noah: Okay.

[They pull over.]

Jeanne: [leaning out the window] Hi, sweetie. Sorry we had trouble with all of that “kitty-corner” confusion. I don’t think it’s even a word.

"Be True to Yourself"? How?

What does “Be true to yourself” mean? And why do we seem to think it’s so easy to do? Can I really say that I “know” myself well? Can anyone? Isn’t finding ourselves part of our struggle? And do we really “find” ourselves or are we constantly creating, editing, revising ourselves? Do we choose our selves or do we find them? Or is there a fundamental self, a basic self, that we try to maintain and stay true towards while the surface changes? How and when did that "fundamental" self develop and can it be altered? Do we really only have one self? Or do we have several selves? And what does it mean to be “true” to oneself?

Isn’t self-knowledge the most difficult thing to know and doesn’t it require constant examination? The philosopher/economist Amartya Sen notes that there are “difficulties in obtaining self-knowledge that arise from the intricacies of our relations with other people.” Are we always the same around everyone? Sen continues: “We are influenced to an amazing extent by the company that we keep and the people with whom we identify, and our lack of clarity [about our selves] . . . may arise from the fact that” our selves may reflect the influence of others.

Don’t we often have a lot of identities? Consider yourself: List as many “identities” as you have. For example, here are some of my identities: Teacher, middle-aged, male, American, musician, hiker . . . . There are so many more. Consider the great American Paul Robeson: All-American athlete, scholar, lawyer, opera star, Communist . . . and there’s more. I left out a lot for Robeson and for me.

Sometimes these plural identities compete with one another for attention and priorities. Sen says, “The neglect of our plural identities in favor of one ‘principle’ identity can greatly impoverish our lives and our practical reason.” That seems inescapably true, but then it follows that “being true to ourselves” is hard unless we accept our plural “selves.”

Within reason, we can choose and work toward our chosen selves. And these chosen selves needn’t be permanent. Sen goes on to say, “To deny choice where choice exists . . . can . . . entail a moral and political failure since it denotes an abdication of one’s responsibility to face the fundamental Socratic question: How should I live?” With the help of Jonathan Glover’s new book, Humanity: A Moral History of the Twentieth Century, Sen goes on to explain that “many atrocities in the world occur as a result [our] feeling compelled to act in particular ways, in line with [our] perceived identities, including” committing crimes against others who belong to a group that is perceived to have a hostile relationship with our own group. We are required to exhibit loyalty, etc.



We have all sorts of identities thrust upon us and all sorts that we try on for size. Some of our identities are a result of the cultures we live in and gravitate towards. Sen continues:

. . . a person may decide to seek identity with more than one of these predefined cultures or -- just as plausibly -- with none of them. Also, a person may well decide that her ethnic or cultural identity is less important to her than, say, her political convictions, or her professional commitments, or her literary persuasions.

It is also important to note that a “culture” isn’t monolithic. For example, being Catholic doesn’t make all Catholics the same.

So, we are told to “know yourself.” And to be “true to yourself.” But is it easy?

Is it even advisable? In "Hamlet," Shakespeare places this bit of advice in the mouth of his most foolish blowhard: "Above all else, to thine own self be true." If Shakespeare thought it was guffaw-worthy, maybe we should take another look.

See also David Brooks on this topic. And (thanks to Brooks) Paul Bloom.

Hawk and the Commodities at Fundraiser for Bay Area GSAs

Tomas Jacquez, Spanish teacher and Aim High Director at Urban, put together a band with Sophie Lieberman on keyboards, Lily Burns on bass, Abby Diamond singing, Tomas on guitar. I sat in on drums for Jasper Sheff who had another gig.

Great Song/Video -- With Thanks to Isa

"Artisanal" Pencil Sharpening

Many weeks ago, I argued that the word "artisanal" had become comically overused.

However, political cartoonist David Rees has come up with an ingenious spoof on the word.

Rock, Paper, Death bootleg video

This is the only known video of Rock, Paper, Death. Apparently, this is huge in China. Huge. I can't remember what we're playing here.

Was Jesus Savvy?

Did Jesus know when people were just trying to get his attention and not necessarily taking his name in vain? Here are some little playlets:


Mary: Jesus, will you please take out the trash?

Jesus: Mom, you didn’t just take my name in vain did you?

Mary: Oh for Chrissake Jesus.

Jesus: You better watch out, mom, cuz' when Jesus takes out the damn garbage, I mean straight up that I will “TAKE OUT the garbage!”

Mary: Don’t make me call your father in here young man!

Jesus: Pppphhh. What’s HE gonna do?

Mary: He’ll crucify you and you know it.



Peter: Christ, this “no women” thing is . . . well . . . hard!

Jesus: I’m sorry, my son.

Peter: “Sorry”? That’s all you got? Geez!

Jesus: What did you say?

Peter: Nuttin.’

Jesus: (Note to self: I’m not an idiot. Peter? Hell.)




Moneylenders after Jesus Gets Upset: Jesus H. Christ! What're ya' doin'here?!!?

Jesus: (Note to self: Ask mom about my middle name.)



Was there applause after the Sermon on the Mount?

Most of us clap hands by cupping our hands and having them crossover to make . . . a cross. Yet, this is not the attitude of prayer.

Some, however, applaud by aligning their hands as if in prayer. When Jesus saw people applaud this way, he must've thought, “Okay, prayer coming . . . no . . . yes? . . . wait . . . Is this dude just messing with me? . . .”

Turns out, it’s just prissy applause.

If ET is Bored . . . It's Probably Not Her Fault -- Exceptions to my "Inspiration via Discipline" Doctrine

Artwork by ET.

If ET is bored, then boredom without the complicity of the bored is surely possible. There are activities and occupations which may be inherently boring or at least so beneath the what was reasonably anticipated that they would and should bore.

ET writes in her blog, referencing mine:

. . . I have been thinking about what my high school English teacher Greg wrote about getting inspired (this too). I am totally bored at work and I am not yet sure how to apply his discipline-->inspiration theory there. To make more of my free time, I have decided that I must do one creative act every day. Either sew something or draw in my sketchbook or make prints or possibly cook, though if it's cooking it has to be especially awesome and I have to share. I think this will make me a lot happier.

If ET is bored, then I need to acknowledge that there are activities or occupations that are inherently boring. ET, being a young, modern-day da Vinci who could hold boredom at bay or attack it better than most, compels me to add some nuance to what I’d written in my last two posts.



First, let me begin with the premise that there are far fewer inherently boring activities and occupations than the history of human articulated restlessness would suggest. “This is boring,” should nearly always be translated into, “I am bored.” Those who frequently kvetch that this or that “is boring” or more accurately admit “I am bored,” despite their access to diverse activities and occupations, must have very few interests, if any, or an incapacity to develop an interest without careful, indulgent, perhaps maternal assistance. In other words, that person is boring. Characteristically boring.




The bored are, in their boredom, boring and they are particularly boring if they are adamantly, chronically bored. Even the Buddha would have to agree (though, of course, he might say that that this level of boredom is itself fascinating, but that doesn’t mean that the person harboring the boredom fascinates).

ET was very excited to be accepted as an Intern with a particular firm. Apparently, the people there haven’t availed themselves of ET’s capabilities. In this instance, she’s bored and quite powerless to change the circumstances.

Here are exceptions (inspired by ET’s remarkable capacity for discipline and inspiration) to the Inspiration via Discipline Doctrine delineated in my two previous posts (posts which many of you didn’t read because the topic sounded boring).These exceptions to the rule that most any activity can be interesting, are activities which are, in fact, inherently boring:

Exception One: Many jobs and internships available to the young. Twirling signs pointing to condos for sale, preparing fries in McDonald’s, washing things – anything almost, ringing up sales in an airport concession – these activities and occupations may be inherently boring. We can all think of – or recall – a great many more.



Now consider internships: When posted here and there, they are meant to appeal to ambitions, preoccupations, and predispositions of proven capable, excited, inspired, and disciplined students. Students compete for these internships many of which are, in fact, fascinating seasons of access into the students' conceivable futures. However, if the mentors in these internships fail, due to fear or negligence, to make use of the intern’s skills and excitement, then that intern is going to be bored and should resent that boredom.

But now look at what ET is doing about the lemon of a job she has. She writes, “I have decided that I must do one creative act every day.” There’s a practice for you!

Exception two: Driving. Driving requires very little skill of any kind – not intellectual, motor, social, or spiritual acumen of any sort – yet it requires our absolute attention. That’s a recipe for boredom. If you disagree, try driving without radios, iPods, cell phones, passengers, or new vistas.

Exception three: People with whom we have romantic or other relationships we should have ended long ago. When relationships are going badly, and have been going badly for a while, and show no capacity for improvement, and don’t even offer the spark of harsh words expressed in anger anymore, then we find that even the aspects once thought attractive about our companion have become boring. A lovely leg, a certain savoir faire in conversation with strangers or with this and that in the kitchen, skilled musicianship, card tricks, good teeth, whatever . . . it all becomes just so tedious. Yes, we recognize that leg as lovely, that gentle facility with the guitar as admirable, but . . . only to others. To us, in that moment, there is, in fact, nothing there.

Exception four: My blog. Apparently. Unless you’ve read this far. Then I guess it’s not boring.

Exception five: Ourselves. We bore ourselves when we don’t make the effort to be inspired, to fight through the ennui attendant to life and its existential despair.

Exception six: Existentialism . . . at least some expressions of it that seem so comically pretentious.

Exception seven: People who are chronically irritable – and especially a subset thereof: spoiled children.

Exception eight: Clingy people. In the abstract, what makes them so clingy is interesting, but we need distance from actual clingy people before their clinginess becomes intriguing. Same is probably true for irritable people and spoiled children.

Exception nine: Relatively simple phenomena that seem so exciting initially and so we hurry to experience it over and over again as soon as possible and in so doing we find it becomes . . . boring. “No, I’m tired of ______.” Fill in the blank with your own current enthusiasm. Often, it’s songs popular about a year ago. But not always. Some of these phenomena remain joyous for us. So why not all of them? Seems like a comic twist on the Buddha’s insistence that initially boring phenomena can become inspiring when we repeat them 278 times in order to force ourselves into the essence of what seems, on the surface, boring. Wouldn’t it follow then that if we repeat 278 times what initially seems exciting on the surface, then it would just get more exciting? No! Because the surface keeps us from getting to the essence. So the Buddha would have us look at the initially exciting, but now boring, phenomenon 278 times after it has become boring. This way, we see it anew!

Exception ten: Hurry. Hurry is an enemy of focus. Focus is needed to avoid boredom.

Exception eleven: Dentists’ waiting rooms. I mean really. Somehow they’re more boring than doctors' waiting rooms. Probably because we’re preparing mentally for serious business with a doctor. At the dentist’s office, it’s like waiting to have your car detailed or your shocks replaced.

Exception twelve: Busy busy business. Socrates said, “Beware the barrenness of a busy life.” Note that business, as we commonly understand it, is called, well, busy-ness . . . without indicating an aim for all that busy-ness. But what Socrates was getting at is what we now call “multitasking” with our lives. As my friend and colleague SN says, “When I listen to music, I listen to music. I don’t do other things while listening to music.”

Exception thirteen: Wannabes. Of any sort. Affecting whatever. We instinctively roll our eyes upward when confronted with wannabes.

Exception fourteen: Nearly all advertising.

Exception fifteen: Waiting in long lines.


Do you have any more examples?