First show in the new Triad Stage season for William Inge's Picnic occurred, and the season tickets were used Saturday night. Before the show, the Managing Director made his customary announcements before the performance, and in addition to the usual speech he added that they were having drawings from among the season pass holders, and MY NAME was picked for a weekend stay at either the swanky O.Henry Hotel or the Biltmore Hotel here in town. Wow....great. Just....great. Too bad this couldn't have happened BEFORE the shitstorm of my recent life occurred. Anyone want to hang with me in a Greensboro hotel for a weekend? I'll show you a good time. ;-)Anyway, this post is basically a little "hey this is where I went" and not a full "let me delve deep into the storyline and ponder the meaning" because frankly I was cast into a rather shitty mood beforehand and could not adequately pay attention throughout. I give serious thought to paying again to see it and really concentrate on the story, etc.
Basically, a 1950s rural Kansas town has a community picnic scheduled and a dashingly handsome man blows into town and, willingly or not, sends everyone into various states of upheaval. “I feel sort of excited…I think we plan picnics just to give ourselves an excuse—to let something thrilling happen in our lives.” -–Mrs. Potts
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