The amazing blog of J. C. Raconteur

The mind reels. I’ve already had my butler, Dudley, draw me a warm bath.

My head hurts.

My heart hurts.

We should never associate with such miscreants and ne’er-do-wells. We are a dignified theatre for dignified people. Regretfully, my staff was either unable or unwilling to carry out my wishes. They have been sacked.

My friends, Raconteur Theatre is not merely a venue for my ego. It is a reflection of Columbus. By you embracing these childish displays, you are hurting your city, your state, and your future offspring. I’m sad and disgusted.

It has come to my attention that my Theatre will soon be putting up a Show. I’ll leave the salient details to my minions, but for now, I’d like to take a big-picture view.

I’d like to state, at the outset, that I’m disappointed. Very disappointed. On my journey home, I received a copy of a local newspaper that suggested we would be performing a musical. I’d like to state, categorically, that we shall never perform a musical. So it is written. And so it shall be. A musical, for those uninformed, is a play where periodically the actors stop acting and start singing and moving about. The suggestion that we would perform such tripe is morally bankrupt and legally actionable. My lawyers are investigating libel claims.

Instead, we will be performing two one-act plays that my staff assures me are full of Real Issues that we will handle deftly and gently. You can trust Raconteur Theatre. For, as Stanislavsky once told me in confidence, “I may call it method, but all I’m really trying to do is make actors more like you. You are method.” He was prescient. And correct. In my life, I try to distill all moments into the One Truth. From conversations to showers to my morning coffee, I constantly ask myself “What is my motivation?”

Right now, it’s you, Columbus. You are my motivation. And I will not rest until you love me as much as I love myself.

With that being said, my staff has informed me that they recently attended a rather large gathering called “Gallery Hop”. I was determined to have a dignified presence at the event. Therefore, I decided that we would hand out live doves carrying olive branches as a symbol of peace and my love for you, the little people. My staff assures me that they were able to adhere to my vision, if not my exact edict.

I had an epiphany, that morning. Perhaps it was the high altitude, frostbite, oxygen depravation… science will likely have many theories. But as I squinted; looked down off the cliffs, down past base camp 2, to the valley below, I saw it: two words, etched in granite, resplendant in the morning dawn: Raconteur Theatre.

I have accomplished many things in my life. I brokered an amicable treaty between the Duchy of Monaco and the Viceroy of Consular Affairs, thus avoiding further strife in the ambassadorial ranks. I am a notary. I have franking privileges in thirteen countries and seven emirates. I make money when the price of gas goes up or down. I’m an incurable romantic, a calculating tactician and an irrepressible scoundrel. I have served in numerous capacities in many different situations that can not be spoken of in good company or without the promise of attorney-client privilege.

And, I have very nearly made it to the summit of Mt. Everest.

Because, on that day, I looked up, looked down, and realized that the mountain I had to climb was not rock, but drama.

I now sit in a private rail car, trundling slowly through Nepal. My porter has poured me a snifter of brandy. I’m smoking a pipe. I plot my future. My exquisitely crafted timepiece whispers a constant reminder. Carpe Diem!, it says to me. And so I shall.

I’ll be in constant communique with my operatives in Columbus. They assure me the field is fallow. I hasten my return.

Yours in humble supplication,

John C. Raconteur