Which witch is which?

Hello all you witches and warlocks! No, I'm not confused as to the month or the upcoming holiday. I am fully aware that Saturday is the celebration of the horrific death of a saint through the trading of flowers for sex. The reason my salutation is of such a Halloween-y nature is that I have just returned from Salem, MA, the home of the mother of all witch hunts. We are staying only 15 minutes away, in lovely Danvers, MA, so a number of us decided to head into Salem for dinner. I was looking forward to that since I had heard that they are whizzes at fire-roasted delicacies. (I know I know--it's not historically accurate, but you all knew what I was talking about, so it counts.) I also knew that there's no better place on earth if you just feel like hanging around. (There--satisfied?) The place was quite quaint, even though most everything you would want to see as a tourist was closed by the time we finished dinner at the Salem Brew House. (Which has absolutely killer chili, wonderful jalepeno poppers, and an espresso stout that is definitely worth your time.) We did, however, get to see the House of the Seven Gables. Bob was very much into seeing that, though I did try to tell him it just hasn't been the same since Clark died. The party consisted of me, Bob, Schneider, Alice and Flo. It was extremely enjoyable, especially since we have a later load-in tomorrow (8:00) and a later show (noon). That meant we weren't worried about rushing back to the hotel so we could cram as much sleep as possible into a few hours, so we had a chance to walk around Salem leisurely. Which is good because it too us long enough to get there. Schneider is from around here, but didn't REALLY know how to get there easily, so there was a lot of driving around aimlessly. But thankfully, everyone was okay with that. 

We did see two lovely things, and the experiences we had there proves to me that this group all seems to be on the same wavelength--at least the ones I was with tonight, and I know that Ted and Carol are also the type to go for this stuff. Near the House of the Seven Gables was a building called the Seamen's Club, or something similar, and we all lost it, because deep down, we're all 12. In fact, everyone got pictures of the sign, and we spent a good ten minutes sniggering. I know, sniggering doesn't usually go on and on like that, but we're professionals. I did feel it necessary to point out that while the sign was funny and all, there was a down side to the Seamen's Club. You know what it is? Wait for it....

It's full of jerks.

They laughed. I do love these people.

The other place we saw was a liquor store named (and I am NOT making this up, gentle readers) The Bunghole. Yes, you read that correctly. The name of the place was Bunghole Liquors. (How's that for a band name?) And in case you thought they put the name up in ignorance, allow me to dissuade you of that notion. They sell T-shirts, one of which does give the actual definition of a bunghole--the hole in a barrel, cask, or keg through which spirits flow--but one of them also said "I got it in the Bunghole". Bob, who is our resident homosexual, bought one of the T-shirts, but just the one with the definition. And we all had to take pictures by that sign as well. It's lovely when one is surrounded by one's peers.

That being said, I do want to say something about Salem. I do realize that Salem doesn't have much except the witch trials that you can point to, and I do understand that there's a certain amount of sense in trying to make lemonade out of historical lemons. But the way that the town trades on its witchy past borders, for me, on missing the point, and reveling in something that might be better left unmarketed. Tours through the historic landmarks and places where the actual trials took place makes sense, and educating people about the events is a worthwhile thing. But everything and every place in that town, as far as we saw, is witch-themed. (Except the Bunghole--that's got enough personality all by itself!) I mean hell, we saw dolls of hanged women. Considering what was done in that town, plastering witches all over everything (remember--they weren't ACTUALLY witches) seems to be celebrating the wrong thing. It's like Berlin throwing swastikas all over the city and inviting you to the Final Solution Beer Garden and Gift shop, where you can get an Auschwitz Burger and a little souvenir oven. Maybe I'm overreacting. I probably wouldn't have had any problem with it if I hadn't seen the dolls. I mean stuff like the Witch City Pub makes light of the fact that religious bigotry, paranoia, and classism sent innocent people to their death. I guess people could cry foul on me since I make jokes about everything, but I don't make any money off of them. Of course, maybe that's the problem--I'm jealous. It could be.

I'm also a little worried about Ted. He and Levitt seem to be butting heads a lot lately. She seems to have some sort of problem with him. I admit he can be a little annoying--he's like Cliff Clavin only without the good writers. But he's a sweet guy and very well-intentioned, and always trying to help. I think Levitt just doesn't like him because he's very talkative and has a vast storehouse of trivial knowledge that he likes to share at all times, so whenever he says anything or attempts to help, or point out something that might need dealing with, she snaps at him. I mean hell, she got on his case because we got to load-in this morning and he needed to use the bathroom. As if he did it on purpose just so he could shirk his duties. I'm hoping they iron this out soon, because it is very early in the process right now, and if she's going to dismiss anything that comes out of his mouth because he said it, this is going to cease being a cool tour. And it's a shame because up til now everything and everyone's been doing very well. Hopefully they can come to some sort of meet-in-the-middle thing. Send good thoughts!

So ultimately,w e had a very good show today--the lights worked, the sound worked, the actors worked, so we did great. And we had the able help of several middle school students to assist us. Lunch was whatever was in the cafeteria, so today was not as incredible a lunch as the last couple of days, but the price was right. All the ladies in the cast were convinced that the gaggle of girl helpers had some sort of incredibly jailbaity infatuation with me, since they did have a tendency to hang around and talk to me. Alice, Flo and Carol all insisted there was giggling that accompanied that, but I didn't see any of it. What I did find out was that I am one year younger than the father of one of them. After I stopped weeping, I (rightly, I believe) pointed out that it was obvious that the entourage was drawn to me because I represented a father figure, and they could keep their sniggering to themselves. As is usual when i try to correct the misapprehensions of the female gender, the sniggering increased. I really don't know why I bother. So aside from learning today that Salem proudly displays both its bunghole and its seamen, I also learned I am old enough to be the father of a 7th grader. And somehow all I can do is wonder if Salem's bunghole results in Witchie-poo.....

Like you didn't see that coming.