Love In Spite Of It All
Renegade Apostrophe III

Dada Is?

Saturday night we got together with our great good friends to go downtown to partake of one of the offerings of the Capital Fringe Festival, a show called MANIFESTO! Why this one, out of all of the odd, avant-garde, interesting fare at the Fringe? Well, my pal Linda has known Mark Jaster, one of the actors and creators of the play, since about forever. It was a natural choice.

We met up at Ben's Chili Bowl for a light supper of half smokes covered in cheese and chili (and my arteries hardened again just writing that). So good; so so good. And ridiculously cheap -- now's that's a winning combination in my book.

Anyhow, my pal Bill brought along another friend he met through his journalistic circles, a delightful woman named Laura Jones, who just happens to have an exhibit of photographs at a local gallery. She took them in 1968, during the Poor Peoples' Campaign led by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. It was such a pleasure to meet her. (Hi Laura!)

After supper we headed over to the Source Theater for MANIFESTO!

I must admit that I didn't know what to expect. I was a little afraid it was be too odd and weird -- yeah, I know, this comes from an ex-clown. But I have grown skeptical of the cutting edge; I've cut myself on it a couple of times.

I needn't have worried. The show was great -- laugh-out loud funny, odd, frenetic, absurd, wonderful, and fast. It's set in a surrealistic cafe, populated by a snooty waiter, a snootier hostess, a new waitress, a sort of bartender and sound-effects man, and two visionaries who have opposing political views and are hot for each other.

And Dada, the inspiration for the show -- that early 20th century cultural movement that is undefinable. Or is it?

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