Wednesday Morning Blahs

It's a gray, gray, gray day out there, gang. Low, brooding, moody clouds. Matches my frame of mind perfectly.

I've just punched the mute button on this 1998 Spin City rerun because suddenly I can't stand it. This is a '90's sitcom that could usually be relied upon to give me a chuckle or three, mainly because of affable oddball Richard Kind who, if he's not careful, is on his way to being a TV sidekick national treasure assuming he's not there already. And Michael J. Fox is fine, I've liked him since his Family Ties/Back from the Future glory days, and Heather Locklear is...well...she's very Heather Locklear, but I swear to the God I no longer believe in that if I have to watch the dating dilemmas of one more adorable white het TV couple I'm going to lose my breakfast.

In the next hour Frasier will come on and there'll be the continuing saga (circa 1999) of the romantic misadventures of the lovestruck Niles and the charmingly oblivious Daphne who (come on, you know I'm right on this) became a LOT less appealing after she and Niles finally hooked up in Season Whenever. After which neurotic singleton Grace Adler gets to french every guy she encounters while her other half, Will, gets to frown with concern and make quippy wisecracks on the sidelines with the antic, boy-crazy Jack who never--not once--is allowed similar lip-locks with any of the boys.

Just--enough already, okay? For today, anyway.

Spin City does have a queer black character, the reliable Michael Boatman as Carter Heywood, Minority Affairs honcho of the fictional NY City Hall office of Mayor Randall Winston, but therein lies the rub. Boatman is funny and does the best he can with what he's given, but what's he given? Some witty throwaway lines as he wryly observes the office absurdities, romantic and otherwise, all around him? Both before and after Ellen's groundbreaking "Puppy Episode" the closest thing to a serious love affair Carter was allowed--by which I mean that we the audience were allowed to see--involved him hugging goodbye some hunky closet-case whose "issues" meant neither we nor Carter were ever going to see him again.

Well, there's always LOGO later.

All my zen serenity of this time yesterday has evaporated and I am back to being on pins and needles of anxiety about the artistic workshop Bill had proposed on Sunday. Monday he did another, more extensive email blast to gauge interest and I've not heard anything further since. I'm not sure what to think. I want to put positive energy out there, you know, good karma, but my naturally pessimistic nature is fighting me every step of the way. If Bill gets X number of encouraging reponses will it happen? Great; but what would that mean for me? I'd basically be right back where I started, unable to afford the trip.

On the other hand if he gets qualified responses, where people indicate that like me they want to participate but can't deal with the various costs, an online workshop might well be a go, which would work for me though frankly, I'd rather travel and do the classwork in P-Town (preferably) or Palm Springs.

And what of Tim Huber's participation if Bill decides to try for it online? Can Tim do what he does best (I mean professionally you guys, come on now, behave) electronically? Could Bill and Tim double-team on this electronically? Would they really want to? How would it work?

For that matter how would it work were we all able to meet in person? Could a 2 or 3 day seminar or class that attempted to blend psychological counseling with artistic coaching really yield the desired results? Which would be... what, exactly? What would everyone's expectations be and could they all be met? Bill noted in his blog that he and Tim Miller had done this before with great success, and Tim Miller responded to Bill's blog that he'd just returned from Chicago (He was here? Hello? Where the hell was he? Where the hell was I??) having done something similar (or was it?) with great results (What? What results? What did TM do? What did the two of them do previously?)

I need to get going. (In more ways than one, gang.)