That's How it Goes.

How can I show you a vid clip? It's on a DVD - of the closing night of Forever Plaid. We had my friend - OneSmudge - from my first Plaid cast - over on Saturday night. I showed him a short clip from the closing of my second edition of the show - and we laughed so hard, I thought his head was going to pop off, and I started wishing I could show it to you.

__________

So - I'm totally off book except for this part:

B - . . . , and even our report cards from school . . .

Me - Who won between Pokey and me in '65?

B - Wait a minute. Here are my marks from Westover. Look. See? An "A" in creative writing. I told you I could write.

Me - Let me just see the tennis scores. I know I beat Pokey in '65. I'm sure of that.

B - Randy, don't grab!

Me - I just want to see '65!

Oy. Oy. Oy!

We have rehearsal tonight (Monday), Tuesday, not Wednesday, and Thursday. So, we're running it about three more times . . . that's going to make a total of, what, three so far . . . six run-throughs before we open. But, only three run-throughs off book for one maternal character - who lost her job today. Hmmmm. I guess she has time to get off book for that two page monologue now.

Of course, if it was me: I'd be drinking. So, I'm saying prayers for her. This is the same actress who's daughter was at Virginia Tech during the massacre. Another actress with nearly crippling intestinal pain - although she's been better for a week now. And then there's me . . . who begins at about ten minutes after nine, counting the seconds before I can get home from rehearsal and get drunk.

Bim Bom Bim Bom. Well, This show is going to . . . . well, it will have a beginning and an ending. I'll leave it at that.

Putting it Together

Rolf saw part of the rehearsal last night, after which he made me promise that he wouldn't have to come opening weekend. We haven't had a run through yet. Is that a problem? Oh, and not everybody is off book yet. I am. My studying yesterday and Wednesday really worked. I'm getting ready to delve into the script again in a moment. Well. We'll see won't we?

Art isn't easy
Every minor detail is a major decision
Have to keep things in scale,
Have to hold to your vision.

The art of making art...
Is putting it together
Bib by bit, beat by beat, part by part
Sheet by sheet, chart by chart,
Track by track, Bit by bit,
Reel by reel, Pout by pout,
Stack by stack, Snit by snit
Meal by meal, Shout by shout
Deal by deal, Spat by spat
Shpiel by shpiel, Doubt by doubt
And that...
Is the state of the art!

Only Trouble Is, Gee Whiz . . .

I'm dreamin' my life away . . .

I really am. Lord. Attention Deficit Disorder, and ready access to the internet is the devils bait and snare. Well, Maybe if I clear my head a little I can get back to studying my lines, until somebody starts hovering by, and then I'll have to do some real work. But mostly, I really need to firm up my lines for the play!

Children by A.R. Gurney opens next Friday. I am having a great time, but having difficulty with the lines! Especially when they keep bouncing around between me and my stage sister, who's missed so many rehearsals.

I've read the lines into a tape recorder. And now using the tape, and my memory, I'm trying to write / transcribe the dialog. I do it over and over until I've got it all down; while I'm writing and whispering a line like "You can't find a thing around here" and the tape keeps running, I just leave some space on the page and write down the next phrase I hear. Then I try to fill in the blanks, and translate my hurried scirbbles into dialog. Then I play the tape again and make corrections, and fill in the blanks . . . over and over again. Once that is all done, I compare it to the script and add the correct punctuation. And then I re-write it, transcribing from my notes, and now using my absolute best penmanship, and saying the words as I go . . . It is quite the laborious task. And I should have done it weeks ago. And I should have done more of it today! Here it is lunch time, and I'm not even finished with the first scene - much less devoted any time to Act 2 - which is really rough.

I had lunch with my niece yesterday, and coincidentally, I had dinner with my sister. Then I spent the evening reviewing my walking through my blocking and practicing my dialog. After that, Rolf and I sat in the sun room and read lines. Me holding tight to a pillow, and punching the couch every time I f***ed up. And he, reading all the women's roles, with one eye on the Basketball Playoffs.

My niece, "Shannon," was so petulant. Just like a little pouting child after a long long cry, likely to break into tears again at any moment. I couldn't stop laughing. She finds out in the next few days how many weeks into her first pregnancy she is. She's been sick since Saturday, and says "I just didn't realize it would be this hard" this after one week of "all-day morning sickness." "I don't think I can handle this if it's going to be like this for the whole time . . . I think maybe I made a mistake . . ." I so glad she didn't take offense. Because I thought she was hilarious. I'm just glad she didn't start sobbing, because I giggled every time I looked at her.

My sister, "Joy", is still very happily in love, although, as you would suspect since she got married so quickly, she's finding out things about her husband that she should have known long long ago. She's going to have to work very hard to improve his financial health, that's all I'll say. I did say that she should divorce him, then just live with him so she wouldn't be at any financial risk.

"But our morals wouldn't allow that," she said.

To which I said "You just need to be unmarried in the eyes of Virginia, but married in the eyes of God . . . just like me and Rolf!"

Of course I said this not looking directly at her, and I hurried to change the subject so she couldn't intone anything that would make me not talk to her for a couple of years, or slap her. I get very pissy when you disrespect my marriage. Even more so coming from her, so I preemptively deflected.

Do you think that marriage is going to last?

Well, she called me this morning. I had asked her last night if she thought that Mom and Dad were getting along. Daddy complained to Rolf that Mama will come downstairs in the morning, make herself a cup of coffee and breakfast without saying "Good Morning" or anything. And Mom just seems so sad.

I had asked Mom if they were getting along ok. She spat

"Well, all he does is just sit there, but everything is fine."

Joy said she was sure they were getting along. They had a good weekend down at the lake, and that they genuinely care about each other's well being. But, I said that Mom must be fed up. With Dad becoming frustrated not only about losing his mobility, but memory too; I know he yells at her. I told Joy, that I thought Mom was just mad. But she didn't think so, but she hadn't really noticed that Mom didn't seem to be ok.

So she called her on the way to work this morning, and Mama told her that she is depressed because she doesn't think she has long to live. Even though the cancer had been, and hopefully is still, under control in her liver, she has a bulging disk in her neck that still throbs. Of course she has a tumor on her spine that has stopped growing. So, that's that.

Spurred to action.

It's still likely that it will get her in the end. I was so emotionally exhausted after her chemotherapy, that I retreated. It's time to get back to bringing distraction and joy to their lives. I'll be working on their gardens again. I'll take Momma to concerts and shows. And I'll try to see them twice a week, which means I'll see them at least three times a month or more.

Here we go again.

Ready, Set, Smile.

For all we know this may only be a dream
We come and go like a ripple on a stream
so love me tonight; tomorrow was made for some
tomorrow may never come for all we know

yay

(unfinished draft)

we blog. therfore we are. . . says rolf. who is here. . . la la la. . .

Ufizzi Air and Space Museum. .. . . james bonds and bond girls, many in modern day wedding gowns . . . sip cocktails underneath antique biplanes, and supersonic jets.

The band plays "Play that Funky Music White Boy". Expect the band is all black, except for Kenny G. on Sax, and Sanjayia on keyboards. . . it's better that way.

Mark and Karen hope to go to Itlay for their 25th. Mark, who was on the job that caused our trip to Italy to Celebrate our 25th to be delayed, introduces Rolf to his wife and friends and says: this is Rolf who has the distinctions of working with our worst customer, who shall remain namelss. . because it's the fucking senate of the united states . . . fuckers. . . where was i?

he goes on to say that trip was delayed . . .

Poisoning Pigeons in the Park

Spring is here! Goodness, what a wet cold dreary weeks we've had. This is really the first good weekend to get out and work in the yard. I love spring. It's so much fun to work in the gardens. And I can still see the lake because the trees haven't leafed out yet.

There's a team of jogger's that just ran past, three abreast.

_________

I'm doing a show in two weeks. We have to be off book for act two tomorrow, and then I have rehearsal every day until we open.

This is community theater on the most basic level. I have to ask myself if this group should continue to exist. There is no support for it, but it's been in existence for 50 years. It's a big debate with me right now. We perform in an un-air conditioned "fellowship hall" with a make-shift stage, low ceiling, and very limited lighting. But I've seen some good shows there - most memorably was A.R. Gurney's Sylvia". It had a wonderful cast, and other than the memory of folding metal chairs, and white cinder block walls; I have no regrets about that evening. It was wonderful theater.

But what if they don't have that space?

The reason I have this debate at all is because I'm also doing the next three shows there (including this one.) Children opens on May 4, then I'll be in "The Last Five Years" next October - hopefully with Petunia (my Mrs. Walker from Tommy), and then I'm directing a show to be named at a later date, possibly Jerry's Girls.

Now, I can probably direct anywhere. But I'm chicken. I'm glad I'm going to be directing there. It's a challenge because of the makeshift stage - but that forces me to keep it small. It's very close to my house too.

Oh, back to the question at hand: What if they don't have that space? The Methodist Church only gets about $2,400 a year from the group for rent. And they've let the make-shift stage be left up at all times, which is really a questionable choice because it is not safe or esthetically pleasing. It looks like a battleship parked in the corner of a school lunchroom. The church is getting a new pastor this June. If it were me; I'd kick Springfield Community Theater out.

Would anyone miss them? Can this group be saved? Can I save them? Should I?

We open in two weeks. I'm still fat. The woman who plays my sister has gastroenteritis and will miss more rehearsals. She's been in nearly crippling pain, and it's imaginable that she'll drop out . . . with two weeks to go, and no understudy. In which case we could possibly go up with the most excellent actress we can find, who would actually read the part, as in be on book, hold a script, as she did the show. If that doesn't close this group down, I don't know what would.

________

All the Virginia Tech terrorist victims were just shown on TV, and I am sitting here in tears. I have to get a grip and get out and start doing a spring cleaning on my yard.

Tonight: a tuxedoed party for 3000 at the National Air and Space Museum. I'm Rolf's guest, it's his work equivalent to the end of year Christmas Party. It's commonly referred to as the PROM. Drinks, dining, and dancing underneath classic planes and space ships. Wow! Wow! Wow!

Spring is here, a-suh-puh-ring is here.
Life is skittles and life is beer.
I think the loveliest time of the year
Is the spring. I do, don't you?
'Course you do.

I'm gonna break a can of whoop on your ass

We Are Virginia Tech

Let's Go Hokies -

Inspiring Video from the Virginia Tech Convocation.

Black Hole Sun

mmmm. coffee good.

Rehearsal was not a train wreck. I'd say we weren't (and still aren't) totally off book for act 1, but we will be by tonight! The director wasn't there last night, so we have today to finish memorizing.

Eleanor, who plays my mother, has a daughter at Virginia Tech. Thankfully, the daughter was at her apartment when the shootings occurred. And Staman the Stage Manager, (how contrived is that nom-de-internet?) works for the White House, and was at the Convocation at Virginia Tech with the President's Staff earlier in the afternoon.

We had some talk about the murders, the gunman, the convocation, the Virginia Tech Poet Laureate who started the healing chant that Hokies are there for each other. Eleanor had been on the phone constantly, first with her daughter, and then receiving hundreds of calls from family, friends, and acquaintances asking if they were all right. Jane, who plays my wife in this show, said that when the policemen went into the building and discovered the dead and wounded, it was to the sound of all the cell phones ringing - repetitively - and unanswered. And she started crying.

I had avoided the media saturation, but checked in with some news sources, including the LiveJournal Blog that Joe.My.God mentioned. All in all, I didn't have much to add. I certainly didn't want to bring up how much this seemed like "same-shit-different-day," knowing that Eleanor sense of safety had been so nearly shattered.

Drinking hot tea, sitting comfortably in my living room - even if it was a bit cold, and I should have started a fire - we focused on the play. We struggled with dialog, laughed at odd turns of phrases, gave triumphal exclamations on making it through difficult passages, clouded with a mindfulness of loss and fear.

Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain
Black hole sun
Won't you come
Won't you come

By the way, my neice and her husband, are going to have a baby.

I Hope I Get It

We're supposed to be off book tonight! We're doing our first off book line rehearsal here tonight! I'm busy cleaning. Getting ready to take a quick shower because Rolf is taking our headshots. I'll post mine. Well, it's going to be a rough evening! I know I've got some rough spots. I hope I'm not the only one!

Just As I Am

"It is a sad day when I am no longer shocked by a mass shooting."

Columbine
9/11
2001 Anthrax Attacks
Beltway Sniper Attacks
Iraq War
Virginia Tech

Talking heads on the news, repeating the same information, much of it false. . . I just said "no." No to media exploitation.

It's a tragic crime. Horrendous. It should have shocked me, but it didn't.

Laughter in the Rain

Ah, the morning has slipped away. I was sitting in the sunroom, at the pub table, waiting for coffee to brew and contemplating an entry into my neglected blog; but a yoga episode was starting on the TV. It's a rainy day here, overlooking Lake Accotink. My muscles, being sore from framing the new bathroom on our project house in Richmond yesterday; I jumped at the chance to do some stretching here on the sunroom floor.

And that was three hours ago, and I'm just getting back to the blog now. I put up one of the suet birdseed cages out on the deck banister. I'm getting all kinds of birds. Right now there's a White Breasted Nuthatch pecking away, eight feet away from my outstretched legs.

I love it.

So - I haven't been too involved with my folks lately. I feel guilty. But, they seem to . . .

ok - emergency - roof leak in the kitchen. I've been up on the roof in the rain putting (Rolf says he can't wait to see what this post looks like) putting plastic around an air vent. Oh boy.

Well, the folks are ok. Mama's been off of Chemo since October. And I um, just feel a bit emotionally exhausted from thinking like she is going to die any minute and I have to be the heroic caretaker . (Oh by the way, the leaking stopped, so I guess my rock was good enough, says Rolf).

I'm not the only caretaker. My sister is faultless. We both just try and do everything we can. The medicine she's on has reduced the size and number of tumors in her liver from 7 at 6 mil. each, to 4 at 3 mil. each. However, the medicine has effected her blood sugar, so she's exhibiting classic diabetic symptoms, like lethargy.

Daddy's got a neurological issue that's causing him to lose his mobility. So, now I feel like I need to find a house cleaning service to get out there and do their Spring Cleaning. That's going to be my Mother's Day gift to them.

_____

The play I'm in opens in about three weeks. I'm supposed to be off book for Act 1 by Tuesday. So, I hope to spend the rest of the day studying. I am really having a good time. I'm mis-cast as a 35 year old straight father of 4 tennis pro / Latin teacher. But, I figure no one's gonna see it anyway, so I'll just enjoy all the lessons I am getting for free from the fantastic director. The woman who is playing my older sister is coming over to do lines in a little while. She's supposed to be five years older than me, but in reality, she's really 16 years younger than me. Oy.

_____

Richmond, yesterday, Rolf, Towmy and I framed in the new bathroom. It's a half bath off the center hall way, and next to the kitchen. Towmy has this rubic's cube type of ladder that you can use as an extension ladder, scaffolding, or just modern art depending on how you configure it. We were hammering 2 by 4's into floor boards and header boards - that I had cut in the backyard using an old dog house as a saw horse.

We couldn't get the ladder in just the right position, because of the tight space, so we had Rolf thread up the board through the ladder, and we pounded it in place. It was a little short, this 2x4, so we used extra nails to get it in tight. Towmy even thought to use the ladder to brace the stud so it would stay plum. Oh we were so proud of ourselves, until I realized that we'd not left anyway to get the ladder out. Yep, we built the stud through the ladder. From oposite sides of the top of the ladder, I said to Towmy - "Honey. How do we get the ladder out from here?"

He started laughing so hard, and so did I, that when Rolf asked what was going on . . Towmy said "Look at the ladder." Rolf did, not comprehending yet, and Towmy says "I guess we can tell them the ladder conveys" And we all broke up. Honestly, we laughed for ten solid minutes. And we laughed while we pulled the nails out and, we laughed while we rehung the stud, and we laughed during a lull in conversation at the Greek Mexican diner we at at, and I broke out laughing while driving home, and Rolf and I laughed while I was scratching his back during a commercial break (while waiting for the water heater to do it's job.)

My goodness, It looks like there's a bit of sunshine.

"If you can taste the Alchohol, then it needs lemon."