Exercise And Lizzie Borden

Found Jeanne's belt while in the guest room, called to tell her I had, and packed and sent it off to her.  Got an e-mail from Kristin N., confirming that I was cast for the dinner murder mystery show on October 26.  We're rehearsing Sunday.
With great difficulty, got my father's typewriter out of the trunk and onto a box in the garage.  That sucker must weigh fifty pounds.  Transferred the Dionne Quint stuff into the guest room; must turn my attention to that soon.
Speaking of: Got to Stafford Library for 3:00 exercise and was delighted to see a good-sized (maybe 11 x 17) poster on the bulletin board about my  program.  Wonder of wonders, it actually spelled my name correctly.
Exercise was good, as ever, then I hung around while Aline went on the computer.  She went on Facebook to see that the cast of YCTIWY are invited to dinner at Calloway's and to kick in ten bucks for a gift for Tonya.  Sounds good.
Had dinner at Dynasty, early bird special, so it was mediocre, but not too bad.  I had spaghetti and meatballs.  We were early for the Lizzie Borden thing at the Little Egg Library and A. asked if we could stop at Wal-green's, as she had pics of the cast of the show being made.  Did so, and I had a copy made, also, although I might very well have been able to print in myself.
The program was similar to dinner: mediocre.  A cast of six took multiple roles--a legitimate dramatic device--but not very well.  A very heavy woman with an obvious wig opened by introducing herself as "Detective McQuade."  She was dressed in--well, was it a stab at period costume or did she wander away from a brothel?--a long skirt, boots, and a blouse with a kind of bed jacket or negligee over it.  Weird.  Even weirder, she read every word from a script she held in her hand.  Weirder yet, she interrupted herself after the action had been going on for ten minutes to say her cell phone had vibrated and she had to go out to take a call.
Now, if someone had been hit by a truck or suffered a heart attack, you could understand it, but in that case, you'd think she'd rush out to the hospital and the program would end. She didn't, though, but came back and picked up as before.  While everything was suspended, one of the actors passed around homemade cookies.  (They were shaped like axes, a nice touch, I thought.)
The actors were uneven, some okay, some limp and several uncertain of their lines.  Considering that they were billed as having presented the program previously at three other library branches, this seemed evidence of careless preparation. 
More careless and harder to excuse were the lapses of common oversight.  Although all were dressed in period, at least two of the characters wore modern wrist watches and one of the men wore a bracelet.   Mrs. Borden sported bright red nail polish; I doubt if even prostitutes wore nail polish in 1892.  A man who played both Mr. Borden and the judge at Lizzie's trial had black-rimmed glasses over his regular, rimless ones.  Why, I don't know, as the top ones were certainly not in style during that time.  They suggested the 1950's (think of Cary Grant and Spencer Tracy) much more strongly than the period being portrayed.
For that matter, the "script" was spotty--very uneven and it relied too much on expositions from the narrator, rather than dramatization.  Somehow, it turned one of the most interesting crimes in--well the annals of crime--into a mundane occurrence with little interest for the audience.