Went out, got the hair chopped, looks kinda nice, I visited S.H. and received my review material though the publisher was not in so we couldn't discuss the changes in genre, went over to Harvard Square and couldn't find the Mamet I was looking for so I bought a new copy of Catch-22 instead since my old copy got lost in a move or something, then went to Bartley's for my burger and had a nice chat with the fellow sitting across from me at the communal center table regarding Heller's work and certain classics that for one reason or another are timeless, like the Three Stooges ("When the Stooges sock a society lady in the snoot with a pie, we laugh because we'd like to do that too," I said. "When Jack Benny makes a gasoline rationing joke, it may be funny but we just don't have that context anymore to laugh and really identify with it. Though that kind of thing may happen again, but, uh, knock on wood, that's what I'm saying.")
Then I toddled up Mass. Ave and bought cheap-ass soda from Star and toddled up home and thought well, that was a satisfyingly full evening.
And it was only then I remembered that tonight was the last night of the T@F one-act auditions.