Actual person, actual job title at the Arts Council of Ireland.
Sounds like the makings of a great TV show:
It's Friday morning, and I've just spilled coffee on my harlequin costume. The lady next door keeps hitting sour D flats, over and over, and my head is spinning. I get a call at 9:45. It appears that the guy they've got playing Cates in Inherit the Wind ate some bad oysters or something. Gotta memorize these lines something fierce. Then, a knock at the door.
It's Hilda, the D flat lady. She says come quick.
"I got my SAG card. I'm out of this two bit town. We can't even get proper funding for new curtains in the theater! I'm heading out the LA tonight. I want you to have this, Mr. Donlon." Hilda holds in her hand a script, heavily marked in red ink. "It's Mamet's latest. A secret, of course. I...I..." And then she fainted on her couch. Her skin was clammy. The ambulance arrived moments later, and I was left holding the script.
Would our two-bit town premiere this new master work? What were the royalties, anyway? This was a job for: PHELIM DONLON: DRAMA OFFICER.
Posted by Zerd at November 6, 2007 09:08 AM