Review - Michael Dale is No Longer Unwell

Some seasons back Peter O'Toole starred in a venture titled Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell, where he portrayed the London journalist whose "Low Life" column in The Spectator chronicled his alcohol-fueled adventures among the town's Bohemians. When the festivities interfered with his ability to meet a deadline, the title phrase would appear in the space normally occupied by his scribblings. Those in the know... Well, they knew.

For the past month or so, friends, colleagues and readers have noticed a gradual decline in my contributions to this column. Unfortunately, I, too, have been unwell. Not for the same reason as Mr. Bernard, though I kid about such things from time to time. Rather, I've been feeling the normal complications that come with being of a certain age, a certain weight and a certain family history. It happens and I must deal with it.

After a bit of a scare (nudge?) I'm certainly on the way to a healthier me, which perhaps, to put it in Gotham terms, would merely require a lifestyle closer to that of Mr. Benchley than to that of Mr. Woollcott. But as the theatre season hits a rather lengthy stride this October you can certainly plan on seeing me occupying many a Broadway seat, pen and pad in hand. Till then I thank those who have shown concern and those who remain regular readers.