Building the Perfect Potato Chip
Two nights ago, I had a rather disturbing dream. I was waiting to catch the #5 (Packard) bus home from somewhere between Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti. The driver sternly informed me that my Go!Pass was hereto invalid and that my place aboard depended on my success at an arcade game freshly installed at the stop which asked questions concerning The Wild Bunch. I remember I did surprisingly well on it, but he still wouldn't let me on. "They're men! And, by God, I wish I was with them!" Bastard. I also remember that the tinkling of quarters as I dropped them into the machine was curiously loud.

Last night, however, I did end up picking paper potato chips off the floor of a small performance space in Ypsilanti, sharing a bag of real ones with a very attractive sketch artist while watching a trio of marionette plays concerning the individual's relationship with society. You should all be so lucky.

Yes, it was Dreamland Theater time again for your indefatigable correspondent. The place, along with the Blind Pig, the Fleetwood Diner, and possibly the Old Town or the Eight-Ball (or the Earle on Friday evenings), has become one of my favorite places anywhere in Washtenaw County (and by extension Michigan, although then I should include Tom's Oyster Bar on Lafayette Street in Detroit). If there's one thing that cheers me up (and probably creeps a lot of other people out), it's watching marionettes or puppets prance around a stage.

All the plays were by San Francisco-based writer Jess Rowland. "Satisfaction Guaranteed" tells of a Jobbish schlub named Bob who tries to kill himself, but is prevented by a very special bag of potato chips (hence my activities mentioned earlier). "Reality Incorporated" looks at reality's call center, where a new temp named Jessica struggles to change the system. "Dirt" is... about dirt, and how it loves an imperiled lass by the name of Marianne. The plays incorporated music and video projection in a very fresh way, and made for an incredibly entertaining evening (evenings there usually are). A number of audio problems occurred, and in the resulting intermission, I was able to tell everyone how odd it was for someone from Louisiana to see Zapp's potato chips marketed as a "gourmet" item at Zingerman's (whence I actually got a rejection letter this week in response to my application in early May, incidentally). There are usually about five, maybe six people in the audience, but everyone has a smashing time.

The last buses from Ypsi to Ann Arbor leave from 9:30 to 10:00, so I had to hoof it back to the transit center immediately after the plays ended, catching a gorgeous, cloud-shrouded twilight on the way over Riverside Park, where the Huron River cuts through downtown Ypsi. I always mean to stay and tell the puppeteers and musicians--head honcho Naia Venturi, Misha Grey, and Tom Barton, among others, how much I love what they do, but there's rarely enough time. It's too bad that more people don't know about the place.

Before the show, I stopped in at the Ann Arbor "Green Fair". I recycle and don't have a car, so the whole "environmental responsibility" thing is preachin' to the converted as far as I'm concerned (I do need to stop using styrofoam cups, though). It's good to see people trying to fight the good fight (even if I'm convinced that they, and the species in general, are bound to lose by this point). I wish them the best (except the "Friends of the Greenway," who stand for environmental irresponsibility ).