A long time ago, I went to see a semiprofessional production of Shakespeare’s romp, Twelfth Night, with mooning lovers and mistaken identity and some merry rascals who put one over on a tight-gartered stuffed-shirt nose-in-the-air major domo, and everybody was so darned grim, I thought I was watching Macbeth! Then a dear friend of ours gave me a ticket…
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