<p>Val Ryan</p>

Honey, Im home just rolled in from a weeklong 1,142-mile road trip to Ashland and Susanville with a stop in Eugene on the way back to CB.

It was an entirely satisfactory trip in every way, except that I was looking for sunshine and found it for ONE day only. Harumph.

One housekeeping detail: Gas prices ranged from $3.69 to $4.36. Splain that to me, Lucy. There is no discernible reason for such a disparity. As my mother used to say, The Fish Commission meets at noon; you might tell them

I saw four plays: Two were among the best Ive ever seen in 25 years of going to Ashland; one was good, but overlong, and one I walked out of at the end of the first act.

The A+ plays were A Streetcar Named Desire and My Fair Lady. I worried that I would be haunted by memories of Marlon Brando, Vivien Leigh and Rex Harrison, but such was not the case. Both plays were well cast, perfectly acted and every bit as good as any production Ive seen of either one.

Lerner and Loewe really got it right with their gorgeous score for My Fair Lady. I think its better than Brigadoon and Camelot combined. Every song fits seamlessly into the story, unlike so many musicals where all continuity comes to a halt in favor of a song or dance.

Since Ashland has started doing at least one musical annually, their choices have enhanced the season and showcased the previously unknown talents of some of their repertory actors. Good choices all around.

Streetcar was intense from the first moment that skittery Blanche appeared onstage with her tacky suitcase. She never let the audience go, from first minute to last, when she is carted away to the home for the unsure.

The unforgivable happened during the performance I saw: A cellphone went off and rang for about a minute. Blanche, who has an immensely heavy line load, blew one line while it was going on. The ONLY one she had trouble with in the whole show. That cellphone owner should be put in the stocks for about a week, right outside Angus Bowmer Theatre, so all theater goers can throw things at him/her. Cant people unplug for just a few hours?

That brings me to a subject about which I could work up a REAL rant. Its none of my business, but when did that stop me? Spending a lot of time in restaurants and public places for seven days has confirmed my suspicion that people dont converse any more; they just fiddle with their thingys.

Take that any way you wish. Everyone under the age of 40 is velcroed to some kind of electronic doodad. They will not be surprised if they are ever on oxygen; they are used to having a lifeline. These devices and social networking platforms are reputed to bring us closer together. Baloney. They are socially isolating in the extreme.

The play that was just OK was Two Trains Running. It is part of August Wilsons magnificent Century Cycle, his epic dramatization of black life in America, but not one of the best. It didnt need to be three hours long to get the point across; it was repetitive and slow.

The one I walked out on was The Taming of the Shrew. There is way too much liberty taken with Shakespeare in Ashland these days, with directors pandering to the younger audience they are trying to develop. After one act of screaming, loud and inappropriate music, no blocking, just running around, leering, hip thrusts and winks I left.

I also left Ashland for a quick trip to Susanville, Calif., where my nephew and a good friend of mine from the book business have opened a brewpub, Lassen Ale Works, and a magnificent thing it is. Good beer, good food, great atmosphere and the Sville locals absolutely love it.

The drive there was beautiful: Shasta-Trinity National Forests and then Lassen National Forest miles and miles of trees and deer and not a lot else. And, best of all, the sun finally showed its face. Down went the top and even at 5,200 feet it was HOT.

Because of the tender ministrations of a good friend in the hospitality business in Cannon Beach, I stayed in a gorgeous room in Inn at the 5th in Eugene on the way home. I had a patio and a fireplace and scrumptious bed and bath linens, about a million channels and oodles of shops in the Fifth Avenue Market

One shop in particular that fetched me was Marchè Provisions, a spectacular bakery and deli. Buttery croissants, house-made bagels, sweet stuff, a deli case to rival Carnegie Deli and cakes fit for the royal family. Also visited Smith Family Bookstore, which makes Cannon Beach Book Companys holdings look mighty skinny. They are a lot like Powells; need I say more?

The deluge arrived as I made my way up I-5, so I was especially glad to pull into my driveway. My honeysuckle vine grew a foot while I wasnt looking, and the nearly dead passionflower vine has come back to life. What a lovely welcome home gift!

---

Val Ryan owns Cannon Beach Book Company. Her column appears every other week.