America, dear America. What are you doing?

Where do we go from here? The stage curtains have now fully opened, the lights have come up and movement on the stage gradually gather only to conflict your senses. There is no here nor there, no up or down, no come and no go. Atmosphere is the only constant. You wait for somebody, anybody to start singing something like, “The sun’ll come out tomorrow” or “Everything’s coming up rosy” or, or even “If I had a hammer”. Nothing! Not even a good soliloquy. Nothing.

After a while, you realize the bassoon has been playing his part of a song that makes you stiffen in your seat. There is something eerie about it. Something you can’t put your finger on and it is making you more and more uncomfortable. It is not yet the melody but you know somehow when you do hear the melody, it is going to upset you. And then the horns start playing their part, gradually building up as other instruments join in. The melody is still not heard. You nervously get up to leave as the violins come in playing the melody that makes your blood curdle. In a glance you notice the full cast has assembled on stage just as they start singing “Georgia”. You are paralyzed with fear and pray you are dreaming.

As always,
BB