I woke for an early hotel breakfast and went off by myself to the Rijksmuseum to see Rembrant's and more. I stayed from 10:00-15:00. Then I headed for the Anne Frank House. After that, I walked around, trying to go home, and went completely the wrong direction. I found an Irish pub called "The Blarney Stone" with live music at 21:00 so I walked home and got rid of my camera so I could come back and sit without any bags. I arrived before the music started. A single male guitarist and singer sat on a stool at the back of the bar, and sang beautifully. I loved it. I sang along, sometimes in harmony. He smiled and acknowledged me as the only one who sang along when he had asked everyone to. I had a Guinness and a Kilkenney beer. He sang "Good-bye to Derry" which is the same tune as "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald." I had a good time meeting people at the "Blarney Stone." When I got back to the hotel, I went to Burger King with some in the group. I have a memory of that night, on my walk home, a young American woman who sold herself on the streets approached me and we spoke about why I was there and what I was studying in England. I told her I was not interested in paying her, but the rest of the night I felt quite guilty for not taking her out for dinner, she looked so frail and thin, and then, when I went with the others to Burger King, I kept imagining seeing her eyes looking in the glass windows fronts. I was haunted by her that night in my room as well. (Later, when doing the play, "Amsterdam Lines" at the Bryant Lake Bowl in Minneapolis, I thought of this meeting and used it as my reference point for examining my character.)
In Amsterdam, I went to the RiksMuseum, where Rembrant is supposed to be kept. I did not see the Sex Museum. but I went to the Vincent Van Gogh Museum, where over 200 of his paintings are kept. That was just brilliant. Plus, I got to be in a country where people drive on the right side of the road (as opposed to the left, I am not being ethnocentric.) It was hard to adjust to. It was really strange to see legalized prostitution, with the windows of the red-light district lined with scantily dressed females strutting their stuffs and exposing magazines and inflatable sex toys and vibrators everywhere that one could peep. One of the days, I walked around by myself all day, and went to the Anne Frank House, a museum now, and then I went window shopping (not red-light). there are a lot of art stores and clothing stores, but later I ended up at an Irish pub called the Blarney Stone, where I spent the night singing Irish songs with the live Irish Folk singer. I sang harmony most of the time after I learned the tunes. I left at 0200, and was so happy after a great time. The I came back to the hotel Holland and some of the Americans were downstairs, so we went out for a meal at Burger King. These are sad times.
Too much driving, and I'm not in the driver's seat. No choices for me except whether to ask for more or less heat, and to get out when we stop at a gas station. I hardly care if I do anymore. I'd rather wet my pants and wipe my snot on the back of the driver's seat. I'm not so truthful. I'm either hot or cold.
CLIMB THEATRE Purple Company is driving through Faribault Co. after a full week of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. We had the Blizzard of '96 for the last two days. The roads are still covered with a layer of ice in stretches. I hope we make it home by 17:00 tonight.