2005-09-21 - 8:46 p.m.
Yesterday, I performed in a church.
Not in the gym of the church, or in the basement, in the church itself. As in, I bumped into the altar a couple times during the course of the show. The children sat in the pews, and we held Mass with an extended reading from the Book of Tom Sawyer.
This alone was enough to make my day, especially since I was able to make it through the whole show without starting to smoke or being struck down by lightning or any of the other things you might expect to happen when someone like me walks into a catholic church, but what happened afterward was what took the cake for me. The school was almost entirely black- teachers, students, staff, the principal (a very nice woman, despite the story I'm about to tell about her.) Keep that fact in mind.
After the show, we took some questions, as usual, when we ran out of time, the principal told the kids that if they were interested in the works of Mark Twain now, they should check out the books at the school library.
Principal- "If you're interested in reading more Mark Twain, who was a very smart man, be sure to read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, or The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, which is also an excellent book, or...uh....what else did he write? Uh...Uncle Tom's Cabin..."
Me- "Um...that was Harriet Beecher Stowe."
Principal- "Oh..."
I hate to sound like I'm racially profiling/stereotyping, and I don't want to belabor that point, but WTF? I might understand if it was some idiot off the street, or someone who went to school in New Mexico, that didn't know that, but we're talking about a group of educators here (not a single teacher batted an eye when she said that.) And such an important work? To now know the author? Who's teaching children these days? As The Female put it more bluntly later on in the car, "I never thought I'd meet a black teacher who didn't know who wrote Uncle Tom's Cabin."
I was so confuzzled I had to call Emily and tell her, and make sure that she passed the info along to J-$ so he could cry. Sorry Jharick. I'm soooo sorry.
In other news, I'm in a swank-ass hotel tonight in someplace called Youngstown, OH, which is nowhere near Cleveland, if you're curious, but they do serve chocolate chip cookies every night at six, which is pretty sweet (I'd say no pun intended, but you and I both know it's me, and I do make those kinds of jokes).
I also had a chance to see Broken Flowers last night, and it was pretty good. Not blowaway great like Lost In Translation was, but I certainly didn't regret seeing it. It seems like Bill Murray's career will be focused from now on towards actually getting himself an Oscar for Best Actor. I'd vote for him. He's awesome.
The movie also had a preview for Walk The Line. I'm excited to see it, but damn I hope it doesn't suck. That'd make me cry.
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