Last night, Kevin called me at 6:50 and invited me to use his spare ticket to the final performance of [title of show]. My Indian Tanpura had just arrived and I was about to settle in for the mini-marathon of Murder, She Wrote (Len Cariou was on!). The tv was shut off, in the fridge went the spinach paneer and on went the contacts. I made it to the Lyceum with time to spare for the 7:30 curtain. It was as enthusiastic a pep rally as I had ever been a part of, complete with multiple standing ovations, lots of snifflers and a few weepers. They say when a door closes, somewhere a window opens. I have a feeling that windows are open very wide for Hunter Bell, Jeff Bowen, Susan Blackwell, Heidi Blickenstaff and sometimes Larry Pressgrove.