After my second day at Oregon Shakespeare Festival (check out day one), I have decided that Ashland is some sort of fairy tale land with that idyllic look of postcards or like that sunny dirt road deep in Bear Country. Every day has been 75 degrees and sunny.
There is a babbling brook (I shit you not) with patio restaurants lining either side, and no one seems to swear, or smoke, or drink in excess (so, I’m fitting in great). Strangely, everyone looks happy. Like Stepford happy. Like how many drugs are you taking in secret happy.
Like Seattle, Ashland earns its idyllic summer by suffering through the long winter and rehearsals that wouldn’t end, all to get to this point where they can perform for audiences in the afternoon and evening, Tuesday through Sunday, from February through November. Lucky them, right?