Content but Disconnected
Here's one for the "I'm old and cranky" file: Does anybody else miss the old days, when Fringing meant wandering around Loring Park on a beautiful evening on foot, instead of sprinting for the car, cursing road construction and maniacally searching for parking spaces somewhere within a mile of the Theater Garage?
Of course, back during the Loring Days, the Fringe was dead broke, no one ever showed up and
the quality of the shows was craptacular at best. But it was convenient, dangit. And we old cranky people enjoy our convenience.