For lack of a shelf...

As much as it pains me to admit, this week was not very productive in the recreational activities department. Yes, my entire week was consumed with crewing Homestead's production of The Diary of Anne Frank and attempting to cram in two hours of homework into thirty minutes of free time three days in a row. So I hope all none of you will forgive me for this lackluster post.

Reading:

A borrowed script of the play, as our venerable director forgot that maybe the stage crew needed to know when we were supposed to be efficiently moving things in the dark. Thankfully, one of the actors took pity (I begged him to lend me his script) and allowed me access to his script for the length of an advisory-shortened study hall. Needless to say, I doubt I gathered anything of importance as I hunted for scene transitions and furiously flipped pages with half frozen fingers (seriously, why is the cafeteria so cold).

Watching:

The tedious process of applying gels to flashlights. This became a necessity when our lights were too 'dang' bright backstage. So our beautiful tech director found some extra gels (for you non-techies gels are what make stage lights pretty colors) and cut them to the size of the flashlights the crew had scavenged from home.

Listening:

The hushed whispers of the costumers, stage crew members and assistant stage manager. As I was seated against the cool, paint-smeared concrete I was struck by how much their whispers resemble water trickling down a wall. Granted, this was the fourth night into a sleep-deprived stress-filled experience, so any artistic thought, however brilliant (And I assure you, I am aware my analogy is far from accurate, brilliant or even slightly bordering on witty) should be taken with a grain of salt.

I was also made increasing aware of how much yelling makes me flinch. Thankfully this round of stage crew did not include screaming directed at my person, but every time the mellifluous tones of our director sweetly declaring the many short comings of the latest scene filtered through backstage, it was hard to suppress a twinge of apprehension.

Eating:

The lovely meals brought it by the parents of the cast. For some reason every meal seemed to consist of sandwiches (almost always including ham), chips and water. Only one mother thought it wise to provide our production with healthy food. Not that I'm complaining, food was arguably the main thing that kept everyone from biting each others heads off.

On the Shelf: 11.5.12

Reading:

I cracked open the old Blue Beetle comics this weekend, and by old I mean they came out in 2006 and by cracked open I mean I opened them in Comic Book Reader. But petty details and logical inconsistencies aside, Blue Beetle is completely worth rereading. 

As I'm sure few (none) of you are familiar with the Blue Beetle legacy, a little backstory seems necessary. For those of you unfamiliar with comic books, titles like Flash, Batman, Green Lantern or Robin are usually given to legacy characters, so when the first one dies, retires or is somehow unable to continue to hold the mantle, the title is passed on to the next generation. 

Thus far only three people have held the Blue Beetle title. The first, Dan Garret was an archaeologist who discovered the scarab (the beetle part of the title) on a dig. So naturally he dug up a suit and became a superhero when he found out 'magic words' make the scarab shoot lightening. The second, Ted Kord worked under Dan Garret and he got the scarab when Garret was forcibly retired. Unfortunately the powers that be decided the second Blue Beetle just wasn't cutting it and the mantle passed on to a third generation: Jaime Reyes.

Now typically superheroes become superheroes for one of two reasons: 1.) they were born with powers and someone recruited them to fight the good fight or 2.) Something tramautic happened (usually a parent or guardian's death) and they devote themselves to crime fighting.

Neither of these things happen to Jaime. Instead he finds a beetle on his way to school and, like any sixteen-year-old with a healthy sense of curiosity, he takes it home. Where it attaches itself to his spine. And thus the third Blue Beetle is born! 

So now you have a kid with a relatively normal life (stable family, supportive, if sarcastic, friends and decent grades) thrown into the world of constant battles, fantastic creatures and alien invasions. And all things considered, Jaime copes pretty well. 

But Blue Beetle is greater than simply Jaime. The side characters - the disgruntled Green Lanterns, the gruff Peacemaker, his worn, but loving family, the quirky tech support and Jaime's close friends make a fully engrossing universe and add well-developed characters that seem increasingly rarer after DC's reboot. 
(Not to mention the art is quite lovely. Not Marcus To-level stunning, but far from an eyesore.)

Watching: 

The Diary of Anne Frank, the play (the musical is only in French) mostly from behind scenes as I'm crewing the show this week. As I wish away my free time for the next week, I can't help but fondly await the sight of harried actors, stressed-out stage managers and aggressive directors. But we all know the final result is worth it, so it almost makes up for the fact that few people will actually appreciate the 100 plus hours spent on the production.

Following:

barackobama's tumblr. Political beliefs aside, the interns running this blog know what they are doing and it is perfectly geared towards the 15 - 25 demographic that populates tumblr. (I have yet to see Romney use the "all of the feels" or the "OTPs" tags on his tumblr. Or get ride of infinite scroll.)

Listening:

To the Indiana's State Marching Band competition. And proud Band Parents triumphantly chanting "Homestead, Homestead, Homestead" as our school was awarded second place for "The Lost Melody". But, hey, we beat Avon I still have no idea what their show was about) and Carmel (Indiana State Champions for Class A) had a pretty awesome show.

Eating:

Pumpkin Pie. Because Birthday cake is overrated I made Birthday Pie for a friend's birthday this Monday. As I am not know for my baking skills (for good reason) my fingers are crossed hoping it turned out okay.