On Neil Simon.

Neil Simon wrote the first play I ever appeared in (almost 30 years ago), not to mention one other play that gave me an enormous workout nine years later.

It’s easy to dismiss his writing as comedic fluff, but there’s personal truth in the characters he created. Some broke down before our eyes, others went at each other, hammer and tongs. I played both kinds, and couldn’t help but recognize each as parts of myself. Telling their stories was akin to telling my own.

Hell of a run, Mr. Simon. Well done, sir.

Geronimo.

On our second viewing of latter-day Doctor Who, I’m realizing that, the more I watch, the more I realize how much we under-appreciated the remarkable, glittering, lunatic sensitivity of Matt Smith.

You Got That Right.

I’m almost certain I’ve told this story before, but it bears emphasis.

It’s been about thirty years since I realized I could go see some terrific live music in a venue that didn’t reduce me to a tiny dot in a vast sea of screaming quasi-humanity.

Instead, I could sit in a reasonably-sized room full of more-or-less well-behaved folks while formidably talented musicians blasted their genius in my direction, without need of amplification. And there was generally beer on hand, which didn’t hurt.

One of those groups of musicians stood out almost immediately. The group’s founders made their wit and erudition plainly obvious in a mid-1980s interview on WKCR I was lucky to have tuned in to hear. I heard excerpts from their latest album, and within weeks had thrust copies of it at several friends.

I’m grateful that The Microscopic Septet still occasionally perform together. I’m also happy to catch their individual efforts when I can. What a damned fine bunch of artists to be a fan of. And what a damned nice bunch of gentlemen. Rest assured that I am happily looking forward to their new CD release this spring.

Stand firm, and all that.

You might very well think that the original British “House of Cards” trilogy series was a masterful depiction of real-world high-level politics, apart from the sorry treatment of too many of its female characters as weak, naïve, and credulous to the point of death.

You might very well think that. I couldn’t possibly comment.