I’m a Playwright, been writing since College. I’ve had productions, highlights and lowlights. Had several careers, probably have several more. I ride my bike everyday and this is a godsend. I love old movies and can name the who/what/where of practically any movie you can think of. The reason I still write plays? I’ve got that one of those wonderful interior voices that gives me most of the mental glue I need. But if I hadn’t started riding my bike, I’d be in a different place altogether. I work at Johns Hopkins. I work in Communications. I can be modest, but most times I’m not.
I guess it was sometime around my mid-40’s when I started to see that everyday life could actually become a very vivid expression. And nobody should ignore this expression just because maybe we haven’t achieved, accomplished or distinguished yourself—-to some grand societal degree. So since then, I appreciate the sun more, nature more—-most of all just being able to walk out into the world. Walk out into a sunny day. Life takes people down for so many reasons. Sometimes it’s easier to have the “oh well” thought. If you come through halfway sane and you’re under 50 then that’s a victory. Or 60 and it’s a celebration. Why? Because it answers the question: the older you become can you still walk with joy? Can you still smile at that person staring back in the mirror? Do you still have the desire to seek and search. None of this is new age, it’s eternal and ever-lasting.
I’ve worked on network TV, cleaned toilets and done some erotic dancing. The plays I’ve finished this year have been around in different incarnations. “Smiles From God,” “Astronautical Passion,” “Zulu Fits,” and “21st Century Groove are satellites that I hope can stay up in the galaxy. Years back I wrote “That Serious He-Man Ball,” “Vivisections From The Blown Mind” and “Life Go Boom”. And this is why I blog. I wanted a stable for my Racehorses. A garage for my Masaratis. They may not speed along, but damn if they don’t make a pretty scene watching ’em go by. So everyday life becomes not the exception to the rule, it is the rule. Stop beating yourself up. Take pride in every little accomplishment. I’ve spent all my adult life writing, and I believe the plays I write are excellent. What would you expect me to say? Am I rich? Famous? You may not know the name of the racehorse, but it’s out there. As the world moves increasingly towards social justice art, victim art, neglected peoples art art that gives a voice to the voiceless—–art that’s just one big sloppy joe, can someone write what I write and get away with it? Art without a category. Plays without kickstarter causes. Yeah, I’m none of that. Is all I’m saying.
That’s my take. I put this blog together to be my own little map. Let me ask: if I throw and party and nobody comes, is it still a party? Can you even find out where it it’s happening? Yes, it’s still a party. And now you’ve got the map to prove it.
2 thoughts on “Alonzo’s Story”
Well said, my friend !!
Hey Lonz, real pleasure reading your blogs. Who knew? While you were spending time struggling through geometry, physical science, and biology in high school, you were stealthily honing your soft skills as a writer extraordinaire. You sure as heck couldn’t have made it as a baller or even a shot caller! You probably still cannot spell “dish, pick or defense”! Much love to you and ALWAYS make sure your cell is off.