Michael Perlmutter, playwright, passed away at the tender age of 33 ("the age that Mozart died and sweet Jesus was set free"--Harry Chapin).  Michael will be best remembered for-- . . . What?  Ok, fine, he isn't dead--Hey, I was going for the sympathy vote, here.  -  Like you’re tellin’ me this is not a contest?  Of course it's a contest.  Everything's a contest: LIFE is a contest.  And my Bio is gonna win this thing big time (never under estimate the sympathy vote).  And never mind that I'm speaking in the first person now, or that I've won awards for my plays such as Crimson, 1865, Parking Lot Traffic, Random Acts.  Or that my plays have been presented in Los Angeles, New York and London.  Or that my recent works  Office Games, My Perfect Alibi and Directing Hamlet were finalists in associated venues across this country.  Nobody cares that I live with my wife, three children and too damned many animals in Southern California.  (OK, two have married and moved away, fine—full disclosure—but within ten miles—though David hasn’t even invited us over for dinner yet but that’s NOT THE POINT!)  The point is that I'm not dead . . . yet.  But you can check out my website for more information on my growing body of work at www.DirectingHamlet.com.  And feel free to leave a comment.  I'd love to know what you've thought of my work . . . that is if I'm still breathing.