A year ago, I both wrote and received (by proxy) a lengthy criticism related to the Chicago Reader. Amidst a flurry of positive press for The Sovereign Statement, Tony Adler ran contrarian and poo-poo-ed** our Andersonville secession effort. I was a bit caddy in my response.
Those days are behind me. Really, they are. I barely think about how much it hurt* to read that misinformed, poorly constructed evaluation of a show that was so close to me that it even bore my name in the script. No, really. I don't care. I don't.
So, of course I care even less that now, the past forgotten, the Reader has rewarded my writing where it could not reward my dancing, singing, and secret-agenting. The rag has highly recommended Resurrected, which is currently running at Morton Arboretum via Theatre-Hikes.
Know this, Suzanne Scanlon (you glorious goddess of critical aptitude):
You will never win me back^. Even if you write hundreds of articles about Resurrected. Even if you convince your colleagues at the Tribune, the Sun-Times, and Hoy (!) to review the show as well. Even if you put a lot of Ex-Lax in Tony Adler's coffee tomorrow (and every day after).
Okay, actually, maybe if you did all of that, you might win me back. Maybe. I'm sorry. Am I being caddy?
I guess some things never change.
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* It didn't really hurt at all. I'm not that actor.
^ I am, however, that writer.
** By poo-poo-ed, I mean that he wrote something out of his ass.
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