Dedications Can Be Fun and Dangerous
One of the best moments of writing is when you are done and ready to dedicate a play to someone. It’s a small gift and a bit of a statement. “Talking God” went to my Niece, Patricia, as she is a dancer. as is the character, Bonnie Fieldstone. “Kinaalda” went to Paula Hoza, who rescued all the plays from her closet. “Frenzy Witchcraft” went to FXA, a man so charming, manipulative, and destructive that he makes Voldemort look like Chuck E. Cheez.
And then “Tutorial” is “For DB--Thanks for putting the “sweet” in “bittersweet.” Thirty-two years ago. WOW! And of course, he was easy to find on the $%@!*& Internet. So, I sent him a message. He replied, friendly, remembering me...kind of. I asked if I could send the play and he replied: “Sure!” And I did. And silence. And what else could there be? If he didn’t really remember, I was just a crazy lady. And if he did...I was someone he remembered painfully. It was meant as a “Goodbye”, so I had to then leave the room, stop bothering him, go away. I pray that he saw it as something good and simple. You deserve nothing but the best, Big Guy. Be happy the rest of your life. You have done so many good things for so many people. (Googled and found a thousand references of accomplishments. Can I pick ‘em or what?)