Theatrical Producer Tentatively Opening Newspaper Seeks Buddha – Guildford
Paid?: I shall festoon your spiritual palaces with exotic spices
Location: The Guildford of our age
Oh supreme one, help me in my direst hour, as I open the Guildford Advertiser to see what they thought of my production of Alan Ayckbourn’s “Bedroom Farce” at the Yvonne Arnaud Theatre.
Sitting here in my favourite breakfast cafe, may I figuratively pat your noble belly and ask that the Guildford Advertiser overlook Jessica’s hamminess? Yes, her interpretation of Delia is a little… bold, but as you know, the beautiful teaching of anitya tells us that all things that come to be have an end, and our production of Bedroom Farce has one heck of a curtain call.
For, oh Buddha, I do not come into this state of enlightenment with this unopened copy of the Guildford Advertiser thinking that I have achieved an unconstructed dimension of awareness with this production of Ayckbourn’s play. We have had our share of production problems, including a poorly put-together bed which almost disintegrated under Trevor and Jan. Nevermind “nirvana”, we “nirly didn’t make press night” – what with Gregory’s indiscretion about Fiona’s friend’s gastric band.
So, as I open this newspaper, I am contemplating upon the Four Noble Truths which tell us that suffering is an ingrained part of existence. And, just as Susannah must live life knowing the weight of Trevor’s indiscretion, so must I bear the new weight if the Guildford Advertiser recognise the reused costumes from last June’s modern-dress Henry V. And I must also remember that suffering can be ended, especially if I blank that hack critic at the Guildford Advertiser Christmas party.
And if not, may the eggs and bacon of this breakfast cafe be the meal (like yours from Cunda the blacksmith) which carries me to Parinirvana, and saves me from Tuesday’s edition of the Guildford Times.
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