I was in a staged reading of Neal Freeman's terrific and moving play called "A Letter from Bataan" tonight and this afternoon... He's shopping it around, hoping it gets picked up and can be produced soon...Primary source documents - letters - make up this story about George E Porter, based on the story of a relative of Neal's who died before returning from serving in WWII - in The Philippines. I play the narrator - a surrogate of Neal's, as he says it - trying to piece together what happened to George...The play brings up so much - where have letters gone? When was the last time I wrote one? Typed one? Got one? I must ask my folks to tell their stories more... Amazing how we scoot right past our pasts in honor of hurrying to the present. Need to slow down. To listen. To ask. I sang two juicy songs from the 40's in the piece as well - "Waiting at the Church" and "Bill Bailey, Won't You Please Come Home?" These women are singing their heartache and war-woes - wanting their men to come home, to be by their sides...A play that took my soul and mind to many places...And my body to the post office today. Me and my stroller-babe bought some stamps. Loads of them.