Interviewer: What made you choose this particular play?

Director: I didn’t. It chose me.

Interviewer: Interesting. Can you tell us about it?

Director: Sure. You see I was walking down Farmington Street (towards Newington Avenue) in New Britain, having just come from Town hall, where I had applied for a permit to paint my hedges flat black  - can you believe they charge $25.00 to let you paint your own hedges? At any rate, there I was, strolling along humming a song by 50 Cent, when this script ran up to me and grabbed me by the arm and said, “you must do me.” As you can imagine, like any normal male I immediately entered a state of due excitement.

Interviewer: So, you said, “yes.”

Director: No. Not then. But it was pretty persistent. It followed me into CTown Market, on Manchester road, and began reading itself to me as I shopped for starfish sushi for my salamander and by the time I had reached Canton Street, where I live, it was just finishing. We stood outside my garage door and I gently straightened out a dog-eared corner on one of its pages and said I would sleep on it and would call it tomorrow.

Interviewer: It accepted that brush off?

Director: Like an oilman who washes his face and finds out he is still ugly. Well, I gave it no more thought. However, when I went to sleep that night I had this insanely absurd nightmare: I was sitting in my recliner, drinking a beer and watching G. W. Bush giving a speech. He said things like, “Iraq is making real progress.” And “I am the decider.” And “We will stay the course.” I woke up in a temperate sweat. I knew then, I had to do the script.

                                                                                                                   Ted Guhl