Oh, Hey, I Didn't See Ya There!

It's been a while since my last post! A month and a half! You could attribute it to the fact that absolutely nothing has really happened in my life since the begening of February....
I've started a new blog, about my new favorite TV show, Doctor Who. You can read it here: tardistyle.blosgpot.com
So yeah, that's been up for a month as of the 18th, and is just 4 views away from 1,000. Isn't that nice? Yes,  yes it is.
That's really it. Other than that I finally was able to add Facebook plug-ins to my blogs.

Announcing.....HAMLET

In sixteen weeks, I will begin rehearsals for one of the most revered plays in the English language.
Two weeks ago I began preparations for producing one of the most revered plays in the English language.
In twenty-two weeks, I will perform the title role of one of the most revered play in the English language.

(see what I did there?)

"HAMLET, Prince of Denmark" is, the best, most human, living piece of work.
It is far from perfect. You learn this when you have to cut the script so its not a kajillion hours long. Shakespeare captured the human quintessence of imperfection in the work. What a piece of work is man! I'll speak more about this later. Perhaps a weekly musing on what I've discovered about the play that week.

Now, I know some of you are asking: "Gee, Ley, isn't that a lot of work, to produce, direct, and act Hamlet?"
I know you are asking this because some of you have asked this.

And to you, all those people out there who are completly corect, I say:
"Yes, yes it is. And, I am on a mandated psychiatric leave from school right now, so I have absolutely nothing to do. I have nothing but time right now."

I'm sure y'all have other questions, too. Like, ego trip much for casting yourself as Hamlet?

Yes, I guess, if you psychoanalyze the vashta-nerada our of it. The here are the real reasons:

1. Some of you may have noticed that I inhabit a very female body. Hamlet is male, so I don't quite see someone with breasts like mine getting cast as him. There. Candid. Scientific terms.
2. I would feel weird asking someone to play a role of that size.
3. Because I can.
4. If you want something done right, do it yourself.
5. I feel I have a great understanding of Hamlet. I relate to him easily already. Any person playing him explores their own darkness, and that is something I feel I need to do.
6. Because I want to.
7. I have a vashta nerada-load of time, and the role is massive and others are already concerned about the time commitment of this.

There. Seven reasons. I think that's enough.

There will definitly be more entries on this! It's tag is Hamlet. Click here for the rest of the entries on the play!

Oh, I almost forgot! Mr. Baird (I refuse to tell you who that is, use the handy-dandy search box to your left if you don't know) loved "Hamlet" and this production is in his memory and honor. After the production costs, all the money from ticket sales, etc. goes directly to pancreatic cancer research.

ps. The Vashta Nerada are one of the scariest things I've come across in Doctor Who, so it is in place of swearing. Click here for the TARDIS Data Core entry on these freakin' terrifying lil' buggers.

Rod Baird's Eulogy

Its possible that y'all are getting tired of me posting about Mr. Baird.

If that is the case, allow me to direct you to the X or the red dot in the upper right-hand corner of you screen.
No one's forcing you to read this.

That being said, this is possibly--but no promises--the last post completly about him.

This was written by Tara Baird.

Good Morning. Welcome and thank you for joining me today in honoring the memory of Roderick Baird.
For those of you whom I have not yet had the privilege of meeting, I am Rod’s middle daughter, Tara. My father may have referred to me as the pediatric nurse who lives in Utah.
Looking around this room, I am moved to see how many lives have been touched by my father. Yet to anyone who knew him well, this profound influence to so many comes as no big surprise.
Although tempting, I’ve decided not to stand before you and rattle off the long list of achievements my father accumulated during his life. Instead, I want to talk about who he was, which was far greater than what could ever be captured by a conventional resume of accomplishments.

It was his inner strength, insatiable curiosity, unwavering integrity, and most of all, his deep love and commitment to family and friends that defined his greatness.
This devotion to family was most evident in his union with my mother, Nancy. Their partnership was one for the ages, nearly defining the word. They were teammates with the shared goal of raising a loving family and conquering the unknown together, all the while, completely trusting in the other to have their best interests at heart.

Yet balanced with my father’s greatness was a profound humility. Upon diagnosis of this insidious illness, his response was not the typical why me? But instead, Why not me?
His love and lifelong study of literature helped craft his unique perspective of the world. Ever the philosopher, Rod approached each day as encouraged by one of his favorite characters, Vladimir from Beckett’s “Waiting for Godot” to “Let us do something, while we have the chance!”
He strived to teach all of us to do the same. While a teacher by vocation only during the last decade or so of his life, in reality he was a mentor to many here in this room and here in spirit for much longer than that.
His amazing ability to challenge our self-imposed limits, tell engaging stories, and above all, share his intense passion for life, always left us wanting more. He inspired us all to “do something while we had the chance.”

Yet, it was his final lesson that may have been his greatest. He taught us how to overcome fear and uncertainty with dignity and grace.
“I do not want to go gentle into that good night. I want to rage against the dying of the light.”
It was with this last lesson that Rod Baird cast off, trusting us to use what we’ve learned to forge our own paths.

If there was anything that defined my father, it was his devout belief, that each and every one of us, possesses our own distinct greatness to share with the world.