The Pillowman

I was lucky enough over the holiday weekend to see "The Pillowman," a truly extraordinary play that recently opened on Broadway and is, quite deservingly, up for a slew of Tony Awards. It's virtually impossible to describe, it's definitely not for everyone, but it was remarkable to see a new piece of theater that was both emotionally rich and intellectually challenging. My friend Anne Holmes' brother is part of the incredible cast, and I hope that he and everyone else involved with the show get all the praise and accolades they deserve. It's not for the faint of heart, but if you are in NYC and looking for a real artistic and philosophical kick in the pants, this is the play for you.

It's nice - and rare - to see theater that is so original and alive.

Live From the Senate Floor, Kermit the Frog Here...

Amidst all of the musical hoopla of the past few weeks, it's been easy to blow right by the incredible political firestorm that is brewing in the Senate over the "nuke-you-lar" option. Mike and I were dorking out with a little C-SPAN2 last night before cousin El came over for our semi-regular Thursday night jam. Let me just ask: how can you not love Dick Durbin? Then this morning I got an email from Chuck Pennacchio, who is vying for the Democratic spot against Santorum in '06. Did anybody catch Slick Rick's latest bile-fest on the Senate floor? Visit Chuck's site, and scroll down to "Santorum Compares Senate Dems to Hitler," and click on the Media Video link. This guy really is too much; and have you noticed he sounds a bit like Kermit the Frog in this clip?

Really, he makes me just so proud to be a Pennsylvanian...

The Honorable Dave "The Edge" Evans

Well, there is obviously something very wrong with me. My two obsessions du jour - U2 and one of my missing clients - came crashing together in the world of my subconscious last night. I dreamed I was in the waiting room of the courthouse where I practice, and that my client who ran away last week was there. I was giving her an earful and explaining to her what a huge mistake she was making. Everyone in the waiting room heard me.

Out of the throngs appeared one of the old retired Judges, a sweet little man in his 80's who still hears adoption cases once in awhile. He said to me, "You should be a lawyer!" I think he thought he was being funny.

Then another figure emerged from the crowd: The Edge, guitar god genius from my favorite band. He and Judge Cipriani started chumming it up. They seemed so happy to see each other. Cip even called him "Mister the Edge."

All of which lead me to think about how nice it would be if old Edge actually WERE a judge at 1801 Vine Street. I think he has the makings of a fine judicial temperment, and I know he would do right by the kids. After all, I think he has about a half dozen of his own.

Beneath the Noise, Below the Din

Every time I have been to a U2 concert, I have woken up early the following morning, usually with a bit of a start, feeling disoriented, like I have just returned from a trip to another galaxy. Did it really happen? What are all of these noises in my head? What is the strange feeling I have in my chest, this aching sensation? I am so happy, but why do I feel like crying?

Today I realize that I could write for days about this band and why I love them so much, what they have meant to me for more than half my life. I won't do that here. You can visit some other sites if you want to read a more blow-by-blow of my reaction to the show. I guess what I will do here is just say thank God for music, and for this band in particular, who have felt like brilliant, loving brothers to me since I was a kid.

Friday the 13th

Maybe I am being punished today for taking off two days in the middle of the week. But here at the Defender's, it has felt like Friday the 13th with a vengeance. Today I learned that two of my clients have run away - one of whom I was just in court with on Tuesday, who I have been in regular contact with, who shares my birthday, and who was (seemingly) on track for great things. Another client went nuts at her mom's house, smashing windows, the whole bit. Another client, a little 10 year old boy with serious behavior and mental health problems, is being blocked from getting to the placement he needs because his mother, who DEFINTILEY has mental health issues but is in total denial, won't sign him in. And the icing on the cake came this afternoon when I learned that another client, a severely medically needy kid, died in his placement at the end of last December, and no one bothered to let me know. NICE.

But you know what? It's a brilliant Spring day, it's almost five o'clock, and I am going to spend my evening getting loud in the living room with U2 on the stereo. The boys always arrive at just the right time. I am sure that all the tears I wanted to shed today at work will flow freely tomorrow night at the Wachovia Center.

Expect a full report to follow.

Sorry I Haven't Checked in Lately..

Do you see why I love him so?

Lots of things have happened in the past few weeks: a few trips to NYC, an amazing Bob Dylan show at the end of April, my brilliant husband's two huge legal victories, getting to know the %$#@%^! brilliant new Bruce record, general nutsiness at the Defender's, and the list goes on. Hopefully tomorrow afternoon, as I am bouncing off the walls in anticipation of the big U2 show on Saturday, I will have a chance to check in a little more substantively. But in the mean time, I thought everyone might enjoy a peek at the word's greatest nephew. Please note the bumble bee rattle bracelet. That thing is amazing. And so is he!