Cancer 29° (July 20)
Got up at the crack of dawn and finished packing. And we were en route to Boston by 8ish. We checked our luggage in a day early to the Eliot; and I dropped La S. off at the bottom of Newbury Street and set off for my doctor’s appointment. My blood pressure was in the okay range which is better than it’s been—and I haven’t exactly been super careful. Gave some blood. Got a wee lecture on my weight and then headed back in to meet S. for lunch—a little pho—before meeting with the dean of the Museum School. I didn’t know much what to expect, but it surely turned out unexpectedly, and not in the greatest sense.
Some months ago I had Joseph Keckler to Harvard/ART/Oberon as part of our series. We brought him up a day early, I thought, so he could tech. Then I started seeing promotion on social media for an event he was doing, the day before his show, at the Museum School. The person posting it created a poster listing all the places he had performed but no mention of Afterglow or Oberon/ART on whose dime Keckler was in town. Nope. They just piggy-backed off our dime. Such a sleaze-oid move. And I definitely took issue with it. Well the dean, Nancy, who started the conversation about how she had a cancer scare and how her mentor had died actually had the nerve to bring the subject up and to tell me that Danielle had told her not to work with me.
So here I was, having to go on the defense for myself? Which, given the momentary shock of the situation, I sort of did. Which later missed me off even more. Then the Dean, Nancy, offered up as an excuse for Danielle that she was “mixed race” and gay or whatever word she used to describe her sexual identity—was this supposed to be an excuse for her being a total sleazeoid? I guess so. I guess she is so much the victim due to her race and her sexual proclivity that me, the supposedly straight white guy, is supposed to be like, “oh, okay, I get it, it’s fine—I understand why she’s a fucking asshole….no problem.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. What kind of narcissistic bullshit is this? All excuses and accusations. I left with a very bad taste in my mouth I have to say. But I’m not surprised. So many people are acting like this these days. Forget seeking forgiveness instead of permission—they don’t even seek said forgiveness. They just throw it in your face and act like you’re the culprit for taking issue. And I would bet my bottom dollar that if I weren’t white and male (and they I suppose presume straight?) this wouldn’t happen. Meanwhile during the meeting this Dean, Nancy, spouted off about her book writing and being a Simone de Beauvoir scholar, and about her husband and her son, Max, who was working for “Funny or Die” and was “really smart and funny and a real character”…and…yet…she was fawning over Brian, calling him a weirdo and a queer and all that sort of thing. I thought it was insulting as did S., but he didn’t seem to think so, so who am I to be offended form him?
Anyway we headed Nahth and had dinner with the Corbett family. We had stopped for some organic red and cheese and Nancoise had put out a picnic of cheeses and hummus and raw veggies and we had a nice ravioli, of which I regretted not having more. I fell into conversation about the visit from my high school friends, some short weeks ago. I can’t quite muster the energy right now to elaborate on that. But I will insert it here later, maybe, after cocktail hour:
To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360 degrees spread over 365 days.
Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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