For some reason, Isaac's blockbuster post about the state of American theater, and his place in or out of it, made me think of this priceless clip from the so-so documentary Comedian, in which Jerry Seinfeld schools an annoying young comic.
Thing is, though I love that story, I have to admit that though I've certainly known him and even been him, I'm no longer that musician in the snow; I'm much closer to the family inside the house (though that house would have to have a piano in it). Though to some of my red-state relatives, my life still seems a little odd--they can't understand how or why I'd try to raise a child in the city without owning a house with a yard and a set of wheels or two (and trust me, these are not questions my little family is totally settled on, either), let alone how someone makes a living writing about plays--I am, for better or worse, a father and a husband and family guy as much as, and even more, than I am an artist, critic, journalist, career guy.
All of which is my own self-involved way of saying, Mazel tov! to Isaac (and Anne).
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