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Last season, on Single in the City…
Phew, another year, another season of Single in the City. Finally moved in to the condo (though no one has YET to see it; it's not ready for visitors just yet (or will it EVER be? you'll just have to stay tune). Went on locations to far-flung areas like San Antonio and Miami to check out the single life there; yep, it's the same there like everywhere else.
For a play-by-play, feel free to read through earlier entries…
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One of the wonderful things about this city is the overabundance of activities that one may partake in that caters to a wide range of interest, from the seedy to the subversive, the artistic and the asinine and everything in between.
For example, a few weeks ago, my BFF Kat, her roommate and I went to see a performance of Two Gentlemen of Verona, a free theater production ("Shakespeare in the Park")
sponsored by the San Francisco Shakespeare Festival.
Verona has the smallest cast of any Shakespearean play, and is regarded by many as one of Shakespeare's least refined, though I enjoyed this adaptation quite a bit. I like the 60's inspired songs that accompanied each act and scene transitions. My favorite parts involved the secondary actors, especially Launce and Speed, Proteus' and Valentine's servants, respectively. They provided a cynical view about love, in contrast to the idealistic and pristine beliefs that their masters hold.
As I was watching the play, it got me thinking: are we really that dumbstruck by love that we'll do ANYTHING for it? As in stab-your-friend-in-the-back, abandon-your-family, throw-your-senses-out-the-window kind of way?
Does art imitate life or is Oscar Wilde right? Tons of songs have been written about the crazy things people do for love; Madonna, Van Morrison, Michael Bublé and even my home girl Beyoncé has weighed in on this matter.
Remember when Daria got her navel pierced because of Trent? Or when Rachel flew all the way to London to tell Ross she loved him on the eve of Ross' and Emily's wedding? Ok, so I feel like I'm dating myself with my pop culture references; I'm sorry, I don't know watch that much new TV since Veronica Mars went off the air (and I'm still pretty mad about that!), except for Glee.
But I digress. I asked around a few of my friends with regards to this topic, and the results were a bit astounding. One of my friends went in great lengths in trying to provide a luxurious and pampered life to his boo, to the point of maxing out his credit cards, working overtime to try to make ends meet, and alienating his parents and his friends, only to end up being dumped a few months later. Another friend kept taking her boyfriend back in spite of his unscrupulous ways (he cheated on her a "few" times) because of her "love" for him.
Now, not every story I heard was grim and gloomy. My friend's girlfriend moved with him to China when he started med school there, despite having most of her life (family, friends, burgeoning career) established here in California; now they're closing on their 5-year anniversary, and wedding bells are probably not that far off for the two.
My own experience reveals similar patterns. I've had moments where the love that I felt for someone was consuming every bit of me, to the point where I couldn't think of anything but the welfare and wellbeing of that person, even to my own detriment at times. Which leads me to think, why would we do this to ourselves? And I'm only left to conclude one thing: love is irrational. Irrational in the sense that it seem to go against the basic evolutionary concept of "survival of the fittest." Perhaps there's more to it than that.
And another thing: what's crazy to me might very well be normal to someone else; crazy is in the eye of the beholder.
Two Gentlemen of Verona is playing at the Presidio's Main Post Parade Ground Lawn (between Graham St. and Keyes Ave.) until this weekend (Saturday, Sept 25 @ 7:30pm and Sunday, Sept 26 @2:30pm). Catch it while you still can!
Also this Sunday, September 25, from 11am – 6pm is the Folsom Street Fair, the world's largest leather event (and no, we're not talking about your grandpa's Wilson's Leather-bought ensemble). See what I mean? San Francisco DOES have something for everyone.
