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Observing the Sun Rising Over The Plain of Poop

When I logged today, the temperature was 61 degrees. The sun was peeking through the branches of the trees on the shore of Lake Maria. The air was brisk and dry. This is the climate that Mother Nature intended her brood to thrive in. Bright skies from Canadian Highs, Dry air from way up there, and low sunlight giving us deep shadows. She can be a bitch, but there are times when you just have to love her.

We are twice blessed this weekend. Our Badgers beat some little kids from down the street. And our Packers survived the heat and humidity in Jacksonville. For football fans, it was a lot of beer, fear, and tears. 

Thanks to two of my friends in Milwaukee, I have a place to stay for my trip to the Milwaukee Film Festival. The film choices look fabulous. This annual event is like going into an ice cream store and knowing you can't order every flavor. You have to miss one of your favorites and it's a sure thing you're going to take a pass on an unfamiliar variety and find out later that you would have loved it if you had tried it. 

Of course, I'm not going to spend every minute in a dark theater. The prospect of visiting many of my old friends, musing at the panorama of my favorite inland sea and substituting a Bublr Bike for my Cruiser (Haven't named her yet) is pleasant and tantalizing.

I've been privileged to see great theater performances staged by inspired writers, directors, actors, set designers, and lighting experts. Little did I imagine that for ten dollars a ticket, I would be wowed by a two-person performance at our local two-year college campus UW-Fox.
Unfortunately for one night only, we were promised a "reading" of a play entitled "The Guys". This play, written by Annie Nelson, is based on a real experience. We are watching this "Reading" on the eve of the fifteenth Aniversary of 9/11. The play takes place in the apartment of a writer who, along with many of us in those days after the attacks in New York, Washington D. C. and the failed attempt that ended in the fatal crash in a rural Pennsylvania field, is frustrated because of the inability to do anything meaningful to help all of those who are in need.
She is fortuitously paired up with a Fire Fighter Captain who has to eulogize some his men at their memorials. (There were no bodies found so that they couldn't have funerals.) They sit down in her living room and talk about these lost heroes. She takes his impressions and memories of these men and gives him something meaningful to say to his family and friends at the service. The conversations they have, and the speeches she contrives, brings the memories of those awful days back in a very person to person experience. 
I believe the author meant to remind us that those names on the wall were heroes for sure, but they were people. They were human. They were brave, yes, but they all were different because being human they had faults and facets of personality and they deserve to remembered that way.
The presentation of this play was not merely reading. The actors did not sit at a table and read the script. The lighting revealed a fully designed and implemented set. The actors portrayed their characters by moving about the stage and creating their version of the character by emoting the dialogue. And yes, at one point in the play, my tears flowed freely. I'd tell you why but it would spoil it for you. 
I can assure you for many years on the eve of the anniversary of 9/11 someone, hopefully, many someones, will perform this play, and you will get the opportunity to see it.

That's it! I've got to get on my bike and get my workout in today.
So from the terrace of "The House In the Woods", overlooking the Plain of Poop, located on the Shores of Lake Maria this is El Jefe at Camp Jeff saying Adios.

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