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Have taken this part."  She apparently quit yesterday but was talked down by the producer.  She came to rehearsal today determined to wring an apology out of the director's Sorry Sponge, but he was sort of dismissive.  I walked in to find her yelling and him turning his back on her and pretending to rearrange some aspic pans on the set wall.  He said he was sorry she misunderstood which is not the same as being Regardless, venting at him satisfied her, so I was up on a ladder reuniting Flappy the Panel with his old crony Mr. Duct Hinge.  They decided to give the slideshow one last hoorah.  It was a massive failure.  The projector doesn't like the DVD player, and the DVD player holds a grudge against the DVD going back a few years, so nothing turned on when it was supposed to.  Nothing fell this time, though. , get Cosmic Boy."  I think they think, "Hey, we need a story from history or literature misremembered and retold by a guy with coffee creamer in his cigarette case.  Get Cosmic Boy."

The Old Lead showed up in the middle of things and gave me a big hug, the hug of the Survivor who Recognizes a Friend.  I helped her find her old clothes and whatever else had been left behind the day she went floorward.  While the New Lead strangled one of the songs in the background, the Old Lead gave me the Look Over the Glasses, another hug, a request I email her and a Final Good-Bye.  When I went back to the active rehearsal, the director was trying to motivate the actors to summon up the emotions of civil rights protests in Selma, Alabama by telling them about his own experience playing King Lear during the Battle in Seattle.   I don't quite recall seeing footage of the police directing their dogs to maul any actors during the WTO riots, and I don't think any stage managers were hung from the lamp posts in front of the Starbucks.  They might have rolled some tear gas canisters...

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