Why is it?
Whenever Dale Wasserman comes out of his isolation (isolation which his meager talent qualifies him for so abundantly), it is only to bemoan how ill-used he is by the American theater ("Whose Play Is It Anyway?" by Dan Sullivan, May 19).
If the theater group in Denver wants to do "Man of La Mancha" in pig Latin with an all nude cast of Fiji islanders, let it be.
Wasserman's royalties are coming in on time, are they not? His libretto is not carved in stone. He did not receive the words "from a higher source" like Arrowhead spring water. He did not bring them down from a mountain top in the Holy Land. He is not Moses. He's not even Charlton Heston, for Pete's sake.
Forget Denver, Mr. Wasserman. Get busy on "Son of Cervantes" or "La Mancha, II." Bank those checks and count your blessings!
THOMAS M. VIZE