Results of Ruminations

Before I got a chance to even teach Shakespeare again in school, I was asked to be a dramaturge and acting coach as Maeser prepared to go down to Cedar City for the annual high school Shakespeare Competition. The Competition ran during the first weekend of October and involved the high school students giving different renditions of monologues, duo- and trio-scenes, and an ensemble. The drama teacher, Cam Cahoon, always asked Justin for additional insights and help to get the students ready for the Competition. This year, I was asked to help. I had heard about the Competition before; my in-laws had gone to see Merchant of Venice the year before and had mentioned it. The idea of going down to see a play and help the students was exciting for me, and, since my wife could go down with me, I decided to start helping out. The two or so weeks before we left, I spent hours after school working with one of the students on her speech as Hermione from The Winter's Tale . We discussed pr...

My firstborn child came to us with half of a heart, suffering from a condition known as hypoplastic right heart syndrome. Through the course of the first six months of his life, we spent countless hours in the hospital, running tests, and carrying about a wired baby--plugged into his oxygen, his pulseoxymeter, or both. He nearly slid away from us on a couple of different occasions during those early months. He was born on an auspicious week, as it were. I had finished my student teaching a month or so before and had lost my potential career by this point. Despite that, I had finished college, and commencement ceremonies were to be held the last full week of April 2007. Also, my birthday was coming, and I love my birthday. I just like having the attention, I think. So, on 25 April, two days after Shakespeare's (alleged) birthday, my little boy Peter was born. I didn't get to hold him until the next day, my own birthday. The day after that, I was sitting in the McKay Events ...

Love leads to emulation. When I first started playing the guitar, I learned exclusively from a guitar/piano/vocal book of Dave Matthews Band's Under the Table and Dreaming . It gave me the rudiments of barre chords, open chords, and rhythm. I pored over that book with obsessive focus, breaking the G-string on my dad's guitar a couple of times in a single week with my enthusiastic strumming. Soon I became proficient at the simple things, moving on to more advanced fingerings, different genres of music, and--eventually--my own compositions. Those early ones, so heavily engrained in my brain, still can spring to my fingertips with precious little coaxing. And almost all of those original tunes are heavily Dave Matthews Band derivatives. The strumming patterns, the chord voicings, the tempos--they all branched out from beneath the leaves of that first book. While Shakespeare was by no means the first of my writing that became emulative (I had written my fair share of Spider-Ma...

During the time of anchorless living when my dreams of a career in writing seemed as far away as my hopes of a career in the classroom, I stumbled upon the idea of the authorship question. As I've already pointed out my major gripes with the whole bag of malarkey, let me say instead what I wish we'd focus on, rather than pointless drivel about conspiracies and centuries' old secrets. I have to fast-forward chronologically to get to this point, but I think it's a crucial one. Back in the summer of '09, the local NPR affiliate, KUER, did an hour long segment on the Antistratfordian position, citing heavy hitters like Supreme Court Justices and Mark Twain as skeptics when it came to the authenticity of Shakespeare of Stratford. In it, they interviewed for a few brief minutes Ace G. Pilkington, a frequent facilitator of conversations at the post-show discussions at the Utah Shakespeare Festival. Gayle and I had recently learned about these conversations, nestled in...

The turbulent time of 2006-07 included losing a child to a miscarriage, expecting another child a couple of months later, then learning that the new child had a potentially fatal heart defect. I was in my senior year at college and had too much going on as it was, yet I had to soldier on. January 2007 saw me in the classrooms of my youth, student teaching with two of the people who inspired me to be a teacher in the first place. When I first sat down with Greg Park to take over his sophomore English class, he pointed out the areas that were tied up with his requirements (book reports, standardized testing, and so on), then gestured to one block of time in the middle of the quarter. "You can do whatever you want here," he said. "Writing unit, another book. Whatever you want." "Do you have copies of Shakespeare?" I asked with (probably too much) enthusiasm. "Let's go look." He didn't sound thrilled, but took me anyway to where the bo...

I became significantly more interested in reading Shakespeare during summer 2006. I'm not entirely certain what I was able to read, but I generally would knock out an act or two each Sunday before I would get knocked out myself, snoozing with my head cricked against the wing of my armchair. My biggest difficulty was deciding which text to pursue. The familiar ones I could more easily follow, but I wanted exposure to others that I didn't read as often. With my birthday-given copy numbing my lap, I would take certain steps before starting a play. I would copy down each character from the dramatis personae on a yellow sticky-note and use that as my bookmark. I would try to paint the image of the Cedar City stage in my mind for the characters to enact. I would sleep whenever the need hit me, since pushing through Shakespeare while drowsy never yields beneficial results. The fall of '06 came around and my wife and I decided to take our anniversary in Cedar City and Manti, ...

I was originally leery of going to the Utah Shakespearean Festival (now without the adjectival -an ending for reasons I don't fully understand). Part of me felt obligated in the same way I'd felt obligated to learn about and like Shakespeare in the first place. Part of me was curious, but the idea of a festival--a stereotypical Renaissance Faire--ran through my head and persuaded me not to bother. Still, it was summer time in 2006 and I'd had enough positive experience with Shakespeare that I wanted to try out the USF. We went ahead and bought the cheapest hotel we could find and snagged some tickets for Antony and Cleopatra and Hamlet. Money and interest prevented us from picking up the hat trick of Shakespeare plays that the USF does (almost) every summer, leaving The Merry Wives of Windsor unseen, but I was excited to see what it was like to watch professionally made productions in southern Utah. The day or two before we left, I was walking past the discount b...