Save this article to read it later.
Find this story in your accountsSaved for Latersection.
Everybody has a last show.
Mine wasThe Freat the Flea.
and marvel that I thought I was somehow in control of my risk.
Her gray head would occasionally disappear beneath the surface.
The conversations Ive had around the anniversary have often been of the little did I know variety.
I knew a bit about the troubles there before the shutdown, but really … little did I know.
As with many outdoor performances, the sight lines were impossible.
Idmissedthat, my little tribe, people I always took for granted.
Little did I know.
And I wince a little bit when artists talk about being essential.
Grocery stores did not close; theaters did.
Theater is vital, beautiful, useful, inevitable.
Wont those words do as well?
I bless every single gray hair on their heads.
But our elders have survived.
