Ken purchased his Garmin GPS about a year ago, partially for his trips but mostly for geocaching with our boys. I thought it an amusing little device but didn’t see much point to having something tell you what you could find on a paper map or on GoogleMaps. So, it was to his slight glee when I asked him what Consumer Reports said about GPS units and which was the better to buy. He was probably grinning when I told him that my Garmin came UPS the other day and that my Garmin had some interesting features. I think he might have even said it then: “So, you’re following me on technological purchases this time?” to which I responded “Yep, I guess I am.”

We both smiled.

My Garmin 265 GPS (I don’t have a name for it yet and if you must really know, I’ve settled on the “Karen” [Australian English] voice) was about the only company I had from Louisville, Kentucky to Richmond, Virginia. I was listening to my first Jodi Picoti book Mercy and I was getting a bit lonely for people. And I realized that this was the first time the summer that I had felt that way and that this was a bit early on in the process to get all “human contact” emotional. I blame much of this on the book, where the husband and wife are going through some marital situations and the dialogue sounded a bit too real for a book. Another part of my feeling this way is that I was on unfamiliar territory, on I-64 traveling through the Eastern part of Kentucky and then through West Virginia. The scenes were incredible, with the Blue Ridge Mountains and just constant reminder that though we think the States are crowded, there are still places that seem untouched by television and the internet and even my cell phone service carrier. That part of the drive, through West Virginia, crowded out humans and emphasized Nature.

I also knew that I was in a different part of the nation, a part that wasn’t so much of the “Northern” values that I was used to in Indiana. A “Comrade Obama” bumper sticker reminded me that this was a part of that dividing line of a time called Civil War. I was apparent to me that many people still cling to state-control instead of federal-control.

I was reminded of this last week on our way to Pennsylvania and the trucker in front of me looked over at a hat-wearing guy donning a t-shirt with a confederate flag. “Amazing how people still can’t let go, you know?” half talking to me. “Yeah” I said. The trucker was black; the hat guy, white. And I’m not sure I want people to “let go” or to tell everyone to just “hold hands and imagine a world of peace and love.” People have backgrounds and have deep-rooted stories, much like the background of Cameron (Cam) McDonald in the book I was listening to. Sure, we like to think we can get over our past, but sometimes that’s easier when we’re the side that won. Cam McDonald isn’t always keen in embracing his position as Lair that he has inherited from his father, but Cam finds it difficult to define himself without his past.

My one stop in West Virginia was in Huntington and the people at the Krogers and the Hardees and the Rite-Aid were all kind to me. They weren’t the stereotypical notion that I had of those from the Appalachian area, but then again, perhaps Huntington was different than other parts of West Virginia. And then again, people are different in the various areas of Indiana, so I shouldn’t be surprised. I got some traveling munchies from Krogers (Vanilla Waffers, Ginger Snaps and a wonderful sale on snack-size Nutter Butters: 10 for $10…I got two), a cheeseburger meal at Hardees (underrated fast food, in my opinion), and deodorant from Rite-Aid (something I’ve forgotten on my last two trips and the last time I forgot, I ended up with Women’s SpeedStick and I smelled powderly-fresh for the rest of that day in St. Louis). After getting gas, I was back on the road and stopped only for a scenic spot picture off the road in Virginia.

Priceline.com came through for me again and I was at the Sheraton West for the night–a great location off the interstate and a wonderful room with comfortable beds. I was pushing time as I wanted to make the opening night toast at 7:15 p.m. and I was a bit concerned about what to wear. Lori will tell you that I’ve come a long ways since meeting me in college (a time when I thought kelly green pants and navy blue collarless shirts were the happening thing). Last night was easy: outside community theater. Tonight was a bit more upscale and it was a bit warm and humid out. I ironed the long sleeve shirt, put on the nicer jeans and had a sports coat in the car. That all changed when I walked outside and was knocked by the wall of humidity. Perhaps I spend too much time inside an air-conditioned classroom, but I said “Ah, no way” and changed back into shorts and my signature orange polo shirt.

I had a verbal volley with the lights on Malvern Avenue. Tonight’s venue was only 5 miles away and I had stopped by the Target on the way for an umbrella thinking that 1.5 miles wouldn’t be any problem (the GPS was saying that I would arrive at my destination at 7:05 p.m.). But that time would get later and later as every block had a stoplight and every green would turn to red before I could speed to the next intersection. The Malvern Avenue lights were winning the volley and I think they were gloating a bit.

I did get to the Agecroft Hall on time, but couldn’t find the place where the toasting was to be happening (and, there was going to be champagne). So I picked up my ticket from the box office and walked around the grounds a bit watching the people of Richmond enjoy this royal-feeling green place. I got a bit self-conscious with the whole “what to wear” thing, but eventually accepted myself as I was, bought a Coke and had a seat in the bleachers. I say bleachers not in the high school football game bleacher sense–these were the nice baseball park ones and after deciding not to block people’s view of the play with my six foot five frame in the aisle, I wandered up toward the back and found something a bit less distracting.

Three women were on stage, singing traditional songs and sewing an English flag…possibly one from the time of Henry V. The seating arrangement reminded me of last week when I saw Complete Works at the Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival: two sides of few rows and deeper rows for center stage. I was about nine rows back. This all took place-this play about this “Star of England”–against the backdrop of the tudor Agecroft Hall and with the music and the torches and the women on stage, it was easy to be transported to the story of Henry V.

Of all of Shakespeare’s play, this one–Henry V– is the one I know best. I had read it as an undergrad, saw the Lawrence Olivier version and was wowed by its cinematic transition from the Globe into reality going into Act II. One of my favorite papers I wrote was about the relationship of then Prince Hal and his father, King Henry IV, and I also have watched the 1989 Kenneth Branagh version on VHS and DVD several times. I saw a stage version in Stratford, ON a couple years back and thought that that Henry had a delivery that somewhat resembled a cross between Peter O’Toole and William Shatner. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy that performance and it’s World War I setting, it’s just that I wasn’t used to the voices. And I think that’s a problem to work through if you’ve seen or heard the same version of anything–a play or a musical or a song–how can you allow for another interpretation?

Sometimes I’ll tell my colleagues at school that I’m “aiming low.” My meaning is that I try to approach my days in the classroom not with a sunny disposition, but with preparation that everything might just go wrong. So at the end of the day when most of us are decompressing in the hallways, I can say that the day went better than I had planned. I don’t do this all the time, but it is a way to deal with those things which I have little control of (mainly in this case, my students and their behaviors). And perhaps, that’s how I’ve approached this project: not high expectations for live theater, with its countless variables (the weather, a man mowing his lawn, air traffic patterns, an ambling old man getting up from his chair during a performance) let alone the actors and their lines and cues on sound and lighting. It’s quite a lot of coordinating and sometimes things happen and recover, and sometimes, from the audience’s point of view, the play goes on with any distractions.

This audience at this production had high expectations for this play’s performance. Sure there were the friends and family of cast members who are excited to see someone they know be transformed into one of court of Henry V. This crowd also included people who had seen a lot of professional theater and this crowd, most of them, knew Shakespeare and knew the history of Hal and his father. Some in this audience could even translate the French spoken between Katherine and her handmaiden. These people in this audience grew up with Shakespeare and I think most were happy with what happened on stage this night.

I liked how the three women on stage became the Chorus and also a few of female parts in the play. I think the decision to use a toned-down royal wardrobe for King Henry and his court served as a reminder that this was a time closer to a traditional Robin Hood era than a stiff, classical one. For a history play, it’s nice to have some lighter moments. Aside from the comedy between the religious men in Act I and between the commoners of Bardolph, Nym and Pistol, who else can you over-emphasize in this play? That’s right: French royalty. Sure it was a bit prissy (especially the Dauphin) but the text supports an overconfident French that eventually lost the day at the battle of Agincourt. The audience also liked the exaggerated character of all-things-by-the-book-Welsh Fluellen, who helped to transition the play during the “glove” confrontation–from the winning at Agincourt up to the wooing scene (a stretch in the play that the Branagh edited out in his film version).

And now onto King Henry V (Phillip James Brown). At first I wasn’t a fan of his longer speeches, but I came around as I backed down from how I heard the “Upon the King” and “St. Crispin’s Day” soliquoys and found myself refocus on the character of Henry V. I think Brown helped me, more than the last production I saw of this play, “feel” for this once “giddy youth” as he assumes responsibility for his country and his people and for his God. The play is about a transition of power and Brown helped this be a play about all of the factors and people involved–the common men, the loyalists, the French–not just about the King himself. Interesting as I think of it now: though Henry has the most lines, I don’t remember thinking that this production was only a chance for us to see how much or how well Brown could say his lines. Instead, his lines were in the context of the others on stage and for me, that created the illusion that the Chorus reminds us of in the end:

Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen,
Our bending author hath pursu’d the story,
In little room confining mighty men,
Mangling by starts the full course of their glory.

We the audience gave the cast and crew a standing ovation (a practice that I know some purists think we in the States do too much–praise a performance too quickly). And I think it was justified for this opening night of Henry V. For me I learned a bit more about a character and play that I personally enjoy. Also, this was one of those venues that you just don’t get to experience very often and the time with the Richmond Shakespeare Festival on the grounds of Agecroft was an extra treat for the long drive here and back home.

I couldn’t find any real food for dinner on the way back to the hotel, so I settled on Taco Bell and got to sleep around midnight. The Garmin 265 took me a route contrary to GoogleMaps, but the Karen voice lead me by Washington DC, toward Breezewood, PA, back to the Ohio Turnpike and home in the 10 or so hours promised. I finished Mercy and listened to a little more of the Mamma Mia soundtrack until I pulled into downtown Goshen. Relatives were there at our house, from out of town, and I took my stuff inside to see people eating Jimmy Johns.

They’ve both finished their second year of teaching and as I pulled up to their house off 99th Street, I suppose I wasn’t surprised. See Andy and Cristen are about the best students you could have in class and they are also good human beings (a combination that doesn’t always go together). Andy and Cristen are the people you are happy to say “Yes, I’ve had them in class.” It’s not often that you come across good people in life and it’s pretty gratifying as a teacher knowing that these same people are now in the same profession as you are (not that I had any significant impact on their decision).

Andy greeted me at the door and I got to see the puppy that Cristen had been writing about on her Facebook page. We ate at a local restaurant (Bentley’s I think) and we talked mostly about teaching stuff. I think I got a little self-involved (I really do try and check myself when I’m asked a question about pedagogy) and Andy eventually reminded me that the play started at 7 p.m. (he had checked the time on the website, I had assumed that it would begin at 8 p.m.). Let’s just skip the part about speed limits on I-465 and just say that we were going with the flow of traffic in the left lane (for the most part). We pulled into the park parking lot and made our way down to the amphitheater.

The play had already begun. Bummer.

But we found a place on the right side among the other camping-chaired community people in this park in Greenwood, Indiana. It took me a few moments to get into the story– mostly because of the adrenaline rush of being late–but eventually I caught the line of the story. Whereas the seating in Harrisburg was almost a half-bowl much like smaller theaters, this venue was a bit more flat and the stage and the action felt further away. The actors were miked and it was a good thing for two reasons. First of all, there were many of the older generation and the sound would simply just die out after it would be spoken. And second, a man was mowing the property directly behind the pavilion for the first two acts of the play. It made me smile, really. (Oh, I should also add that the approach path for the local airport was directly above us).  All of which is standard for outdoor theater and most people just accept it as a given. I still find it sort of comical.

If you remember this play at all, Love’s Labours Lost is the one where men decide to make a bet and women sort of play around with them. At one point, disguises go on (veils and switching of accessories for the women, beards and Russian accents for the men) and promises are made and during the reveal, honest dedication and pledges of love are set. Unfortunately, and this provokes a “what were you guys thinking?” scream from me, all four couples decide to suspend their togetherness for twelve months and a day…perhaps as a cooling off period, or perhaps just to make sure that the couples really do mean business. Either way, this production stops the play at this point (they trimmed the play down to 90 minutes for their audience) and we’re left in disbelief.

This was yet another opening night performance (three in a row) and it was incredibly clean for this type of theater. In its in second year, the Greenwood Shakespeare Festival is looking to reach its audience with the magic of Shakespeare’s work and this night they hit it just right. All of the cast are people from the community with various levels of experience (from first performance to over forty years of experience).  I sometimes get a bit uncomfortable when there’s children or teenagers on the stage. Maybe it’s the many AFV (America’s Funniest Videos) shows I’ve logged in on Sunday nights or perhaps it’s the kids programs at schools or churches. But not here, not at this production in Greenwood, Indiana. And so I was able to sit back in my chair and enjoy this story where people misunderstand one another and reach a bit beyond their limits and we don’t exactly get the wedding at the end and live happily ever after.

I was a bit put off at first by the abrupt ending when Berowne says “That’s too long for our play” and it’s over. But really, I kind of liked how this production was packaged and edited for this audience. The weight of suspended love still hangs in the air and still I want to knock their heads together, all four couples, and tell them that they don’t have to wait a year and a day. Go grab some coffee and make the wedding plans. But I didn’t write the story and it’s a Shakespearean comedy and the Greenwood Shakespeare Festival did the play justice.

With the play over and people folding their camping chairs, I said good-bye to Andy and Cristen and went over to shake somebody’s hand in the production. I got to talk to one of the cast members and then to one of the co-founders (Andrea Lott) and we talked about my project and Shakespeare plays and audiences. Andrea mentioned about how she wasn’t sure this audience would be ready for a history play, that this audience perhaps didn’t have the background of Shakespeare to get the references. No matter how sophisticated this Greenwood audience was, this was a wonderful production by a community company that does not receive any outside funds from grants. Which brings me to a little aside: when you see a free production of a Shakespearean play or any of the arts, you should feel it your duty (and obligation) to give at least the price of a ticket to the local cinema movie-plex. If you are concerned about tax-deductions, then most not-for-profit theatre companies have a way for you to give and still get that tax-deduction.

And so I gave my donation in the can at the back table and headed toward my car, then to Starbucks and some gas and then on I-65 to Louisville for some sleep. Fortunately, my Garmin 265 got me there on time.

I love technology, but I hate the GPS. Or, better reframed: I didn’t like what the GPS represented. See, I still like the idea of books and looking up information in volumes that contain physical pages. And, I like the idea of finding the point of departure and the point of arrival and looking at a map and tracing the route. Sure, I’ll use a website map such as GoogleMaps to aid in the process, but in the end, I’ll still have an overall picture of where I’m going and something tangible to point my finger at.

The GPS seemed more like having a website write a paper for you: you just plug in the goal and presto! a product in which you had little power over and had little control of any of the variables. And honestly, to me, that just sucks the joy out of life. Besides, I’d head enough stories of where the happy GPS either gave erroneous directions that led people into a driveway that was really a lake or, the thing simply wasn’t useful anywhere with farmland (e.g. Indiana and Ohio). The GPS just seemed to be a little gadget that really was for people in big cities and big cars.

So the next morning, when Donna offered her GPS for us to use in our Lancaster excursion, I reluctantly said “Sure” to Donna (mostly because neither of us–Lori or me–knew the area that well).
Our primary stop today was President James Buchanan’s Wheatland estate and this was a trip especially for the now “All-Things-US-Presidents” son, Colin. Colin, like many children, get into obsessions. Fueled by a viewing of Night at the Museum, Colin just loved the character of Teddy Roosevelt and has been on a three-month exploration of all the Presidents. So as we travel this summer, we’re making it a point to find those places that Presidents have lived and if you are in Pennsylvania, there’s really only one US President that is native to the state: Buchanan.

Apparently Buchanan doesn’t have the best reputation. Remember, he was the guy in office when the Civil War broke out (an inevitable happening no matter who was in office). But most historians and history books place the blame for the war on Buchanan because many felt that James could have done more (or, as some say, “do something”).  In fact, one of Colin’s US Presidents books says “Buchanan became a pathetic spectator as events in the country spun out of control.” So, it was going to be interesting to see how the folk in custody of Buchanan’s Wheatland (and his reputation) were going to tell the story of Buchanan in a different light.

The GPS got us to his home with no problem (damn thing) and we got out umbrellas and made the dash to the visitor’s center (a smaller house on the estate). It was an interesting tour through the house and instead of telling you everything, I’ll cut to the punchline: Buchanan was actually the tallest President (he was six foot five) and he believed that the Federal government should not get involved in the State’s right to govern. The Confederate States were the ones who pushed the nation into war against itself and after Lincoln was elected, Buchanan got a lot of stuff done. (At least that’s what I remember from the tour). It was a nice tour and time and Colin enjoyed himself and if you are in the Lancaster area, the Wheatland tour is worth the hour or so.

After driving around Lancaster for a bit and trying to find what house Lori lived in for a year or so as a child, we ate lunch at the Park City Mall and eventually made our way back to home base in Mt. Joy. Center Valley, according to my GoogleMap, was about an hour and 40 minutes away, so as relatives came for pizza, I had to do the “Hi-Bye” to Lori’s Aunt Janet and Uncle Bill. I did ask, for some reason, Donna if I could borrow the GPS (as I had found it helpful in Lancaster that afternoon) and she said “Sure” and I punched in the address and started northeast.

I found myself staring at the thing for most of the trip and the talking directions was a nice break from the long stretches of Pennsylvania road. Most of all, I looked at the “Arrival Time” in the bottom right hand corner; a time that would get later by 10 minutes because of the small town stoplights and the slower moving trucks on Highway222. At one point, 222 seemed to bypass a lot of the stoplights of a stretch of town, but the GPS didn’t recognize the new road and I decided to follow the screen than the newer sign that was before me. I did get to DeSales University in plenty of time (15 minutes before the start of the show), but like traveling to any new destination, the thought of being late for the past hour was getting a bit unnerving. Which is probably something to keep in mind: Don’t Panic, you’re going forward and eventually you’ll get there probably on time.

It was a cautious crowd, or that’s the vibe I picked up on as I took my seat in the front row of the smaller, maybe 200-seat theater with audience on three sides of the stage. I hadn’t decided on this performance until a week ago when I looking for a “Complete Works” became more difficult than I had anticipated. I figured it was still a popular show and that several smaller, summer theaters would be producing it. I also had made a decision to not repeat a venue twice, but now that I was in Pennsylvania and there was a production less than two hours away, I made an exception to my rule and ordered the tickets online for this performance (which, by the way, isn’t always a pleasant user experience–ordering tickets online–but that’s another post).

So, here I was: at the Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival and here I was in the front row (slobbering distance from the actors) and by the time I sat down, I wasn’t sure if I was going to like tonight as much as I liked last night. See, unlike a Shakespeare play which there are very few good video recordings, I only have known this play by the original troupe, the Reduced Shakespeare Company’s DVD of a Vancouver taping with Reid and Austin and Adam. This is a DVD that I show my students and it’s a play that I really like. Now I’d be faced with an updated version done by people I didn’t know or trust. And so, I chanted my little mantra for this summer: Soak in what you see now and don’t compare with other performances. You are not a critic, you are an audience member.

Right before the opening announcements, an older couple was seated to my left and one of the people who had a “Volunteer” name badge on, moved toward the stage with a clip board and began to give announcements. I immediately realized that this was their way to start the show and immediately looked around to see if I could find the “Adam” character (one of the actors who sat among the audience until it was his turn to give some historical background on the Bard)…couldn’t spot him

The opening sequence seemed tight and it took awhile for the audience to warm up to the production. From what I understand about live comedy, you gauge the material by audience reaction and the laughs were “somewhat” until the Shakespeare’s Comedies section. It took me awhile to get used to these three completely different people saying the lines that I was used to on the RSC version. More current material was added to make the production relevant to the audience and there were obvious local concerns woven into the performance. But still, there was an apparent reserve to this crowd and I think I found out why during intermission.

For me, I did want them–Chris Faith, Christopher Patrick Mullen and Shawn Fagan –to succeed and win the audience over. I had heard this discussed on the RSC podcast about this interplay with audiences and even which crowds were better than others (according what day of the week it was). Perhaps the most challenging audience was the opening day audience when VIPs from major sponsors would be in attendance along with other official-looking people. And as the first part of the show unwound through the Romeo and Juliet scene it became apparent that this was indeed an opening night crowd and this crowd was a bit more “important” than the usual crowd. (And I say “important” only because sometimes there are people who give generously and the usual perk is complementary tickets to the shows and good seats. These are the patrons of the theater and, though perhaps not the mainstream audience, are the folks who keep the show going).
After the intermission, I decided to say “Hey” to the older couple to my left as a way to make up for not saying much to the people at last night’s performance. The older woman didn’t look pleased with the performance as I asked if she came to this festival much.

“Yes,” she said. “My husband was one of the founders of this festival.” She motioned to the man to her left. She went on to inform me that she didn’t know why the Church had to be so accepting of homosexuality and that this production was more racy that when it was performed a couple of years back. She also called over the house manager (I think it was, and apparently the older couple were VIPs because the house manager calmly explained with the actors mispronounced he older woman’s husband’s name).

I think the homosexual reference came when Fagan playing Juliet came over to our side of the stage and was making some reference to some nicely dressed women sitting right behind us. Then, he leaned on my knees and said “What are you doing after the play? Oh, you look like a young John Kerry” which I though was pretty funny, mostly because I’ve been told that before…the John Kerry part, that is. DeSales University is a Catholic university and I’m wondering if all Catholic universities were still recovering from the heat that Notre Dame was taking over inviting President Obama to speak at commencement a couple of weeks ago.

All of this started to come together as the second part began with the Hamlet reduction: This was an opening night crowd at a Catholic university with a lot of VIPs and these three guys were performing something that really demands a lot of timing and reliance on each other for cues. I’m not making any excuses for them, but Faith, Mullen and Fagan did a pretty good job adjusting to the audience while pushing some content that would probably not make the audience laugh out loud. For instance, the Othello rap is just a fun piece and it seems that the audience would eventually clap to the beat and sort of motion along with the players. Not this crowd. We smiled. The Comedies portion is done as a reader’s theater in the original script, but in this version, it was performed as sort of a puppet show (with faces of celebrities on tongue depressors). The piling on of characters and what they represent reached the ridiculous level and, finally, the audience (perhaps carried on by the younger people in the crowd) caved and started to trust the actors. Like I mentioned before, the second act with the reduction of Hamlet was a more reactive crowd and I think people left with more than a smile on their faces.

Or perhaps it was the champagne that was offered to us as we walked out of the theater to toast the opening night performance of Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Either way, I think it would have been interesting to see how different things would have played out on another day with a different audience.

One of the things that struck me after I did a quick review via uterli and I turned on the car and the GPS and drove out of the parking lot is that this audience knew the actors and the knew this festival. Though this was the Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival, it was also a community festival with a history. People in the audience knew one another and people in the audience knew of the references to other past festivals that the actors (and director) cleverly included for the audience. In a way, I realized that though I was a part of the audience, I was still an outsider: in the beginning stages of a trip to dozens of places where there is already a relationship between the cast and the audience. I felt a little sad about this. Not only because I’m not a part of that relationship (much like when you are the new kid in a new school you’re trying to break into some of the social circles), but because I don’t have that back in my hometown of Goshen. We don’t have a Shakespearean festival or Shakespeare in the Park currently. I already miss what do not have, but hope to appreciate that vibe throughout the summer.

I ignored the GPS’ advice of heading back through all of those stop lights and instead followed the clearly marked signs before me for 222 that would eventually reconnect me with the original road. At one point I looked over at the car beside me who seemed unsure where they were going (that slow down thing that we do when we are unsure of where we are). And then I saw the GPS and I’m sure the driver and passenger were a bit concerned as I was earlier that evening if the physical sign should override the virtual one in the GPS. I could just hear that “R-Calc-U-Lating” impatient tone from their GPS. Eventually I sped on ahead and they turned off and heading toward the GPS-direct route. I turned on the Mamma Mia soundtrack and would be back in Mt. Joy in just over 70 minutes.

We left Saturday for another stop in Pennsylvania, in Chambersburg where Lori’s other grandmother lives. Both Lori and I ran some of the hills in the area as we’re both running in a race in San Francisco in late July and most people know that Northern Indiana is not known for its change in topography. Before we left though, Uncle Jay cooked me one of the best omelets I have ever tasted and we were piled full of containers of various deserts that were baked, and served over that the past three days. We made our way over to I-81 and the trip really took a half an afternoon and we visited and ate and slept at her grandmother’s apartment. We were out the door by 6 a.m. Sunday and enjoyed a fairly uneventful trip home. We did stop at the Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential home in Fremont, Ohio (about seven miles off the turnpike) to look around. We decided that we should come back another day so we could take the tour and all. The grounds of this Presidential home was a bit more celebrated than the one of Buchanan, at least that’s what I felt.