In which the worlds shabbiest blogger apologizes yet again

All my resolutions to post daily crumble to dust at my feet.  In my defense we go from crisis to crisis here at the Small Town Theatre.  None of them are fatal crises, so I can't really complain.

Nevertheless, I think we are in need of a little divine intervention to solve some of this week's problems.  And really, how hard should that be?  As I pointed out to my mother  yesterday, how many professional theatres were founded by Benedictine monks?  How many are run by faithful Catholics?  How busy can Saint Genesius really be?  Maybe, like a good man of the theatre, the saint is simply biding his time, waiting for the most dramatic moment to come to our aid.

As a director, I have a few thoughts on when that moment would be.  But I'm sure he knows best.  I'm sure of it.  Absolutely.