My mother always told me that, when cooking for people, to never apologize for the food. If it's bad, don't serve it. But if it's good enough for the table, don't prejudice your guests by saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry—the chicken pot pie turned out awful" just before they take their first bite.
I'm not sure why I'm telling you that, except that it's always good advice, but I did want to apologize for the week's silence. I'd like to be able to say that I spent the last seven days on a transcontinental bender, but the real explanation for my uncharacteristic lack of blather has been more ordinary: I've been finishing the rewrite of a new play.
It's nearly done now, so expect regular updates to resume this afternoon. And if any of you are interested in reading a just-completed comic mystery about murder and mayhem in off Broadway theater, drop me a line.