Let me tell you about The Modern Motor-Driven Woodworking Shop. My friend Dorie called from California. Everything you write is so absurd, she said. Why don't you enter an absurdist playwriting contest? Don't be absurd, I said. I see they're having one in Seattle, she said. Oh, yeah, I said, Where'd you get ahold of a Seattle paper? I wasn't going to be fooled. I don’t have the slightest idea, she said, but I thought of you. We hung up. I poured a cup of coffee and sat down, missing the chair, landing on the kitchen floor. That set me to thinking, Who makes these chairs that are never there when you need them? So, I wrote the play and it won the Great Zap Dod Absurdist Playwriting Contest and they put it on at a church that echoed and I couldn't understand one word of it and neither could Michele or Bob Sabatini or Les or Bonnie or Jo, so of course I decided to direct it myself and here it is.