Fickle New York City went up into the sticky daytime highs above 80 degrees last week, and tonight and tomorrow night we're down to the high 30s and low 40s. Wheee! So we're all a little pale and distracted as the weather whips us around. The trees are greening, though, and our dogwoods and magnolias are pushing out blooms with all their little woody hearts.

I'm playing a zany expert in Kabbalah and other arcane rituals in an indie film this weekend; in real life I know nothing of such stuff, so it should be fun to make knowing comments about life beyond the veil. After that I'll play Tiresias, the blind prophet of Apollo in Thebes, in a staged reading of a new comic resetting of Oedipus. So clearly the next few weeks are for indulging in mysticism.

This is an old key, newly revealed, and ought to work like new - but with publishers these days, who knows. If you have trouble with it, please let me know.