So March came in like a lion and went out like a lamb. Or was it in like a lamb and out like a lion? Who cares? The only impression March really made, in this Covid-crazy stretch of the continuum, was that the temperature vacillated between chilly and broiling, sometimes on the same day. No rhyme, no reason, just like everything the pandemic touches.
And, predictably, little in the way of live arts, performing or otherwise.