We saw Waiting for Godot on Saturday. Weird, weird play. The only thing I knew about it was that apparently Godot is God and the point of the play is that God(ot) never comes. Wikipedia before the play told me that's one of several interpretations, not the only one (so thank you, anonymous friend).
Turns out Samuel Beckett (the playwright) wouldn't tell anyone what it meant, either.
My brain hurt during the play, trying to figure things out. What do the hats mean? What the heck is going on when Lucky starts talking? (It remains to be seen, but time will tell.) What does it mean when Pozzo is blind? Actually, what the heck does anything mean? What's the point of the tree? Who is Godot? Is Pozzo Godot? Why a shorter rope the second time? What's up with "nothing" in the boot and in the hats?
I love live theater. It asks you to think.
For the most part, though, I felt like any discussion of the play would ultimately prove fruitless. I felt like the play was a really complex version of "The Lady or the Tiger" -- you can argue as much as you like, but in the end it's going to be totally pointless because it doesn't matter.
It was good, though; I'm glad I saw it.
In other news, Betsy and I got into an almost-heated argument today over pinto beans. We laughed about it later and realized we were both being kind of stupid, but I think our argument over pinto beans -- pinto beans -- demonstrates the lack of known 18-to-25-year-olds in the Toledo area.
And, I am almost out of stamps.