It’s no secret that the word “box” is slang for “woman.” (if you are under consenting age and you didn’t know that already, ask you parents why, just for fun.)
So just to make this post an curious mix of boxy entendres, here’s what happened last night.
I had a most pleasant collision of the boxes while attending Fairfield County Green Drinks at the Fairfield Theatre Company. Green Drinks, for me, is a monthly excuse, more than anything, see my far-flung group of busy FFC girlfriends — Katie, Carol, Eileen — shoot the breeze, and convince each other to go for a meal afterwards. The meal is critical: we are all displaced foodies (London, SF, NY, Kansas City) in a search for good restaurants. In FFC, that is definitely a needle/haystack situation.
Colin came along, and the event was different: hosted at Fairfield Theatre Company is Eileen’s home turf and Katie’s weekend home for her farmer’s market.
As for me, I’d hardly been there.
Space matters
It’s impossible to ignore FTC… they are marketing dynamos in the county and they’ve been doing a slamming schedule. Still, it’s a mysterious venue which from the show of hands, many people had not been to before.
Stage One is Black Box. If you never seen a performance or concert in black box before, you are missing it. Black Box is minimal, solid black space, unadorned, simple. From the farthest seat, no doubt, you could still count Shawn Colvin’s freckles. There’s no way to protect the audience from the wash of stage light, so the performers, even under the brightest light cue, can see your face. It’s intimate and personal. Black Box is addictive.
The Boycott
As part of Green Drinks, The Boycott, written and performed by Vermont native Kathryn Blume, was performed at Stage One. Blume tells the story of the First Lady of the United States launching a nationwide sex strike to fight global warming. It’s Hollywood meets Gore, meets grungy coffeehouse rhetoric and Blume’s simplifed concept carried a weight of gravity that defied scientific directives.
We girls, plus Colin and Miles, huddled away from the Green minglers after the performance, preferring somehow our friendship to business hobnobbing. Colin jokes about “girls’ night” and how he is happy to be the token male, but our girls’ gatherings rarely wander off to talk of tampons and gorging on chocolate. We’re women, all right, but we’ve got some things to do as well, that might have more to do with life than just our boxes.
Eating Fish (Naturally)
Dinner was at Fin, an excellent Japanese place on the Post Road in Fairfield. I’d recommend it.
