Pandemic Journal, Day 565

We were supposed to see Coded, a new play about women in the games industry, at City Lights Theatre last March. Oh, well.

But all was not lost – City Lights brought Coded back as the first show of this season, and we saw it this afternoon. Masks were required for everyone but the actors (there was a talk-back after the show, and the author/director, Kirsten Brandt, wore a mask although the actors didn’t). The ventilation was good; the theatre was far from crowded.

It was good to get back to the theatre; during the talk-back, the actors said that they got energy from the audience, even though we were few and masked. And I definitely got energy from being there.

It’s playing for the next two weeks, and they do plan to make a recording available for people who aren’t ready to go to the theatre in person. I recommend it and am looking forward to the next production at City Lights!

Pandemic Journal, Day 564

This afternoon I competed in the quarterfinal round of the Table Topics contest for the District 101 Toastmasters Fall Fusion event. All the speakers get the same question and have to reply immediately; everyone but the first contestant has to wait in a breakout room until it’s their turn. I was the first contestant, so I didn’t have to wait around; the question was “when you were a child, what was your dream job?”

One of my favorite books in elementary school was Starship Into Space by Lee Correy (a pseudonym for G. Harry Stein, SF author and real rocket man at White Sands). I can’t tell you how many times I read it. I even convinced other kids to help me act it out on the school playground – we’d run across the playground and pretend to go into hyperdrive. I hadn’t thought about the book in many years, but as I thought about the question, there was only one possible answer: “astronaut” – and not just the kind who goes into low Earth orbit, or even to the moon, but one who got to travel to the stars.

As it happened, I didn’t become an astronaut. I didn’t win today’s contest, either. Oh, well, there’s always next year!