Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Life's not as bad as it may seem

Memorial Day 9:15 am

As I write, the sun is high in front of me, high above the ocean. With my hat pulled low, I know it's location by the warming rays on my legs. It is quiet. A man and his wife are walking their poodle puppy - here on poodle beach. The puppy is excited to greet a golden retriever, but the retriever is just waiting to chase the ball. Joggers . . . more dogs chasing balls into the surf . . .

This is wonderful. Saturday and Sunday we slept until 11, then Rolf worked for a few hours, so we didn't get a whole lot of beach time in. I decided to come for the sunrise today, and although I woke up in time to do it; I rolled over, put my head on his shoulder, and went back to sleep.

And now I am joined by dolphins. DOLPHINS! It is not a big group, or, if it is, it's a very loose group. I don't see more than two or three at a time.

Rolf was still in bed; I told him I'd gotten him a bagel with lox and cream cheese, which I left on the dresser, but he rolled over into sleep as I closed the door.

Some house mates were packing up for an early trip home, other's going for a bike excursion, one was taking a shower, there must have been 2 others still asleep, and one was gone. There are still three we haven't met yet.

We're all white gay boys, ranging in age from 30 - 50, skinny bitches and athletes, baby bears and fatties; all very nice and fun. I don't know their names.

A pod of dolphins has stopped to feed, and one of them leapt into the air. There is a lone umbrella and chair down to my right now; looking like a classic still life, the blue- teal- purple- gold umbrella tilted against the gray blue horizon, a lime green pink and white low rise chair billowing like a sail, an orange tangerine beach towel folded small over the top keeps it from blowing away. And a canvas bag, that, other than blue piping, is the same color as the sand.

The house is lovely, situated leisurely walking distance from the beach and town. Late, we walked home, after running into and stopping for drinks with friends, down the board walk, through the kiddie arcade, full of camera toting young daddies, thrilled toddlers, and new mothers looking to the world as if all their dreams were coming true.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

They tried to make me go to rehab but I said 'no, no, no'

Howdy - we're having a very nice time. I'm getting ready to go to the beach. I hope to be there until after sunset. We'll see how that goes. Rolf was able to get away from work, but he brought it with him. He is struggling to make sure it is not intrusive. We went to a wonderful party last night with friends we don't see too often, because they all have houses, and thus tend to spend their weekends, down here.

Anyway, we were so worried about feeling unwelcome really. By the way we were grousing about it, it was like we were afraid to go to kindergarten for the first time. Talk about childish! But everyone is very nice, and they are not all that skinny either. The house is very elegant; and I misrepresented the accomodations for guests. There are no dorm rooms. There are two rooms with twin beds, all the other rooms have queen or king beds. There is a fold out in the sun-room, in case of overflow. There is plenty of room for everyone.

It's a lovely house! We're We're walking distance from everything!

Time for the beach!

Monday, May 21, 2007

I'm As Restless as a Willow in a Windstorm

I can't go home today until the work is done. And I still haven't started. Ugh. I just want to go driving! I drove to work this morning with the top down and the window's off. And you know what?, it was cold. The Jeep (I've got pictures) was filthy. So, on Sunday I parked it in the back yard, put on my bathing suit (one that I can't wear around the Gays in Rehoboth, because I'm just too fat.)

The first thing was to get the roof off. I don't have a manual and I didn't think that the soft top folded back. But it does, and it took me an hour to figure out. Then I scrubbed all the door panels, dashboard, and center console so it wasn't disgusting anymore. And believe me, it was disgusting me. But it shined right up with a scrubbing sponge and Scrubbing Bubbles Bathroom Sheets. Hey, it worked.

Then I washed the Jeep, and finally put d'Ohgy in the back and took it for spin! Oh. My. Lord. , It was so much fun! Hooray. Hooray. Hooray.

I drank, by the way. Nothing on Wed, Thurs, or Friday - but after the drive from Camden, where I was suffering from the banging of the window, and the wind on the soft top - well, I had a scotch. Just one.

Then on Sunday, well, I got frustrated with the roof of the Jeep - and an hours long attempt to have dance music to wash the jeep with . . . finally, I had Vodka with Peach Fresca. And it was good. Then, with dinner a laarge glass of white wine with Puck and Memae, Bailey's Irish Cream with decaf, and then once home, another Peach Fresca Vodka. I shoulda skipped that one.

Oh, it's almost 11 - and I've got so much to do today. All the work I haven't done in the last week and a half, has to be done before I leave today. And then tomorrow, I'll just sit here and pray for the rapture. Not that I'd be taken up, but, it would be a change of pace.

Friday - first day with the skinny bitches in the Rehoboth dog house. I hope Rolf is there. And if he's not, I hope I keep my pants on! Oh Lord, the thought makes me want to go to an AA meeting!

Tonight: Read through of The Last Five Years!

Get me out of here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, May 18, 2007

Can You Feel My Heart Beat?

I stopped taking Wellbutrin around at the beginning of the year. I wasn't feeling better, and my heart had been racing. So, I tapered if off over a month. Well, my heart is still beating, sometimes, really fast. Just now, I went and used one of the blood pressure machines, and it said my heart is beating 144 times a minute. I did it again, and it said 133 times. Normal is 60 to a 100 times.

Maybe it's adienelin in hopes that this car sale works out. That and the fact that I'm not done with my work, so I guess I'll have to come in on Sunday to finish. But back to the car thing, if the check doesn't get up there - two hours away from here by train - to Camden NJ, then he's not going to let me take the Jeep.

I hope so, but I've got to go to the doctor anyway. If it was the anti-depressant, then it shoulda stopped by now; I haven't taken it in three months.

I wish it would slow down.

I Am Closer---Closer Than Before




La La La, la la; la la la la la. Hey hey eeeaye yay.

That's what my new car's gonna look like. And that's what the house in Rehoboth Looks like. We've got the house all summer with 16 skinny bitches. Now, if Rolf and I can just get away from work to get there!

Promises
We forgot all our promises
And only keep some of the easiest
I confess I do

Make believe
However small the possibility
But sometimes tripped up by reality
Formality it seems

Now I found

Having come the long way round

I am closer---closer than before

Here and now is all that it's about
Let's use it or we'll lose it

Go and ask anybody
They will all say the same---everyone
Love is contagious
We are part of a chain

History

We could live our life from history

But there's no future in a memory
You'll see---my love
Oh,there's no future in a memory
You'll see---my love

Now I found

Having come the long way round

I am closer---closer than before

Here and now is all that it's about
Let's use it or we'll lose it

Go and ask anybody
They will all say the same---everyone
Love is contagious
We are part of a chain

Basia - Promises

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Patterns in My Life That I Trace Ev'ry Day

I lost my temper. Then he called me a maniac alcoholic. Hard to deny when you're drunk. Well, it is a good day. I made it to an AA meeting at lunch time. My first. Another tomorrow.

This weekend, he goes to Florida for work - leaving me alone Friday evening, and Sunday. On Saturday, I'm taking the train to pick up my new 1998 Red Jeep Wrangler Sport. Yay!

I'll drive it to an AA meeting on Sunday.

I don't want to be the drunk in the doghouse of the skinny bitches at Rehoboth. And that starts next weekend. But, Rolf is not going. He has to work.

That's why I lost my temper.

And neither think we owe the other an apology.

Friday, May 11, 2007

I've Got My Eye on You.

Happy Friday! Eleven hours to go until another show. Rolf, Puck, and Memae are coming tonight. Memae insists on coming. I don't get to sing; so I don't see why anyone would bother.

What a week! Monday was my only night off. I worked in the yard which looks so lush and green. Rolf has been working double this week.

Tuesday he had to bail on our tickets to see Saving Aimee with Carolee Carmello at Signature Theatre; so I got my mom to go! We had a great time. She is feeling pretty good, but she's dropped 15 lbs in the last month. She says she hopes it's due to a change in medication and diabetic sugar levels. With a laugh she says "I'll wait until I've lost another 15, then I'll complain."

Kathy Lee Gifford wrote the show, and she was there hobnobbing with investors. That was cool. The best part of what is a fairly good show though was the brilliant talent of Carolee Carmelo. Man oh man, her specificity, stage presence, singing, and everything about her is just incredibly powerful. I felt like I'd just seen Judy Garland at Carnegie Hall. Wow!

Wednesday we had rehearsal - not a pick-up rehearsal, but a full blown rehearsal with examination of dialog, motives, blocking - everything was examined. That's ok with me, but I didn't get home until 11; I'd expected to be home at 9.

Last night - Leta (not you - nom de internet for my friend who played Leta Encore in my production of Ruthless,) Leta and I went to the Shakespeare Theater to see Titus Andronicus, part of the Shakespeare Festival. It's Shakespeare's Horror Movie. I ran into Paul (horse-d***) from Hair, and Kevin who used to work here with me - but he escaped after six months.

So, there's no air conditioning in the church social hall. It's going to be a hot weekend. We have three shows, with Sunday's Mother's Day show being at 5 PM. In addition to those coming tonight, Petunia Walker and her real husband are coming tomorrow night. (I was her husband in Tommy.)

What's scary about that is I'm counting on her doing The Last Five Years with me there in October. And I'm afraid she'll run screaming. And of course, maybe I should run with her!

Mom and Dad are coming on Sunday. The show is at 5 on Sunday; we're going out to brunch first for Mother's Day. My sister is still on her honeymoon. I expect Rolf will be with his Mom who's just begun dealing with cancer, too. So, brunch will just be the three of us. Like those years when Joy was in college or off starting her own family, and I was still in high school. I'd like it to be special.

all the best & have a great weekend!

Vig



Sunday, May 06, 2007

Are you a Flig Pucker, too?

Show number 3. I was oddly happy going into the church, as pissed as I was that I didn't drink, took a shower and shaved, all on a Sunday night - given that there'd only been nine people in attendance last night. I sat, slumped backstage, with a of flask vodka tightly shut temptingly near by.

"It's odd," I said to 'Barbara'," that I'm so glad to be here and see you all, in that I'm extrapolating the anger of all the many casts invited to be on this stage, with the unspoken, and unfulfilled promise that there would be an audience."

Then I started wondering if I was using 'extrapolating' right as I lay down (lay, lain, layed???) backstage and heard . . .

"Oh that 'Barbara' she is such a good actress. She was in the class I took with Roland at LTA, and she is so good. . . I know I've never even been in a show, but I have my head shots. Well, a head shot is a picture that a professional from New York takes to help actors get jobs. Well, I've never been in a show, but you know, . . . this is a wonderful place to live with all these community theaters' . .. . my neice . .

blab blah balh aaslsladflaksjdfasd something or other . . . and so . . .

I was going to go to my first audition, because I've never really been in a show, although Roland said I could put the show case on my resume . . but I don't have a resume. . and I was going to go to the auditions for Aldersgate Theatre . . but I couldn't get my headshot to print. . so I just chickened out. . . "

I think I could easily hide behind a false stage wall and listen to people talk for hours. But the stage manager came in and said "it's time." . . so we all gather. . . all five of us. . .in the ladies room on the basement level because the choir room with the mirror is inexplicably locked. There is no prayer with this group, but we do-do a tongue twister. I don't. . . well I try, and then I just say "do da blah blah ?"

Don't try this at home:
I'm a fig plucker. I'm a fig plucker's son. I pluck figs until the fig plucker's come.
Act 1, scene 4 is not going well. This would be scene 4b, and I was pretty sure we were in trouble before I entered. 'Barbara' was jerking her head indicating that I should enter. . . but I whispered. . . "no, not until she says "Big Subject of the Evening" " which mother hadn't said yet. . . (Did I tell you yet . . . oh ,wait . . I didn't know yet how many people where there. . .) So, anyway . . . there 's a awkward pause before she finally says "Big Subject of the Evening" and then on we go . .

Live theatre; yay! Yeah. I was surprised that we / she only skipped a few paragraphs, it seemed like pages. But there I am pouring her drink (the first drink), and she says the line that comes after I've refilled 's everybody's drink . . even though three of us didn't even have drinks yet. And she gives me my cue, so I say it. What the hell? I don't know what's going on. There's no way I can save her ass. It's her scene, we're all just in it. . . and on stage in front of God knows how few people. . . and WATCH judges. . . . so, I say my line. . . from where I'm not supposed to be . . . and all four of us are using our peripheral vision in hopes that we'd see that someone clearly had a plan. . . All we see that 'Mother' is CLEARLY wishing she hadn't had wine with brunch after her little bike ride. . .

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Why Do I Live? Why Do I Die? Tell Me Why.

7:50 The stage manager says - we have three people in the audience right now. . they bought their tickets a little while ago, and went to get something to eat. We're holding the curtain for them and to see if anybody else shows up.
"Give them a rain check, and we'll just go get drinks," I say.

"No. Betty White* says we've sold the tickets, we have to go on."

The conversation was repeated at 8:o5, when she added that she presented the rain check idea, but it was shot down. Then, with us standing in the basement choir room (that only seats 12, by the way), there is knocking on the window.

"How do I get in there?" she says standing above us and bending down to look through the window. "I only found one door, and there is a church service."

"It's the next one down. There's no sign, but there is another door. . . "

And so, on we go. Peaking through the stage flat, I see eleven empty chairs, one senior lady sitting alone. I can't see to the left and center, but three more people come in the back as the pre-show sound effects get started.

At intermission, peaking through the kitchen door behind the audience (the pass through was closed. I thought opening it would bop the lighting operator in the head); I count nine people. Nine!

And, I had a great time. Performing for nine people.

I let Mrs. Betty White (blog nom-de-plume for the president, of the group,) I let her have it.

"How can we put people, invite people to be up on our stage, and not give them an audience?"

"Well, lots of groups are having problems. . . there are so many shows that are open, and we are pulling from the same audience, and people are watching the Kentucky Derby, and it's Cinco De Myo . . . We really need to sit down and think of ways to attract more people."

I said: "Ok. But at what point, after how much time if we don't succeed, do we say there is no point in keeping this alive?"

"Well, I just keep it running the best I can in hopes that something will come along . . ." she says with an affected wistfulness.

What am I doing?

- Where Do I Go -

Where do I go
Follow the river
Where do I go
Follow the gulls

Where is the something
Where is the someone
That tells me why I live and die

Where do I go
Follow the children
Where do I go
Follow their smiles

Is there an answer
In their sweet faces
That tells me why I live and die

Follow the wind song
Follow the thunder
Follow the neon in young lovers' eyes

Down to the gutter
Up to the glitter
Into the city
Where the truth lies

Where do I go
Follow my heartbeat
Where do I go
Follow my hand

Where will they lead me
And will I ever
Discover why I live and die

Why do I live (beads, flowers)
Why do I die (freedom, happiness)
Tell my why (beads, flowers)
Tell me where (freedom, happiness)
Tell my why (beads, flowers)
Tell me why (freedom!)








Another Openin'

Ready to go, the house is open. The audience can't see me five feet away behind a stage flat. My sister is laughing on the other side of the wall. I imagine she is laughing with her husband, her husband that she was supposed to marry today, but back in February, she couldn't wait any longer. Still, their Hawaiian honeymoon starts tomorrow. It sounds like she is laughing at everything he says. It sounds extremely happy. And it made me cry.

Audience response was light. Both my stage wife and I have scenes where we get laughing, and my stage sister has a great laugh line . . . so three or four spots I heard the audience laughing. But Act 1 ended to dead silence. Weak ending, poor segue to intermission, or a terrible play, I don't know; but I was already changing clothes by the time the applause started.

Act 2 begins with me waiting for my cue in the church kitchen, behind the audience. Without my glasses, the view through the pass-through window over the audience to the stage is fuzzy combination of steel table with coffee maker in the dark, then the window to the dark house overlooking the lighting table and crew, enough chairs to seat a hundred, mostly empty, and then brightly lit happy blues and summer accents as Barbara and Jane work through the opening. As I wait, I count 16 people in the audience. My sister, Joy, her husband, whose name I forget, and my niece are there. I didn't know she was there. She's had 24 hour morning sickness for the last three weeks. So I was surprised and glad she was there. I figured that Joy's friends had not come because they were not seated right with them. I was very glad for that - I'd been horrified that they were coming to see me for the first time, on opening night of a drama. But I was wrong, they were sitting elsewhere.

Act 2 had some nice connections - nice rhythms - honest reactions - very good stuff, followed by generous applause.

Friday, May 04, 2007

Cool, Clear Eyes of a Seeker of Wisdom and Truth

And I believe in you.

~It's opening night~It's opening night~Another opening, another show . . .

Cole Porter

Another Opening Another Show

Another op'nin, another show
In Philly, Boston, or Baltimo'
A chance for stage folks to say hello!
Another op'nin of another show.

Another job that you hope will last
Will make your future forget your past
Antoher pain where the ulcers grow
Another op'nin of another show.

Four weeks, you rehearse and rehearse
Three weeks, and it couldn't be worse
One week, will it ever be right?
Then out of the hat it's that big first night

The overture is about to start
You cross your fingers and hold your heart
It's curtain time and away we go -
Another op'nin
Just another op'nin of another show!

I guess I'm doing pretty well. I start to squirm when others in the cast get major amounts of notes, and I don't. I feel really confident - I mean, yes, I'm miscast - what're you gonna do?

I think the worst thing, other than being fat and flabby, is my posture. I seem to fold into myself all the time. Oh, I had some pictures developed, some were from three years ago when I was thin. I had no shirt on, leaning back on a banquette in the party boat. Yeah, the face looked good, but after that it was yards and yards of skin thrown over a bony skeleton. Gross. (I'm not taking my shirt off this summer at Rehoboth, at all. Well, not with any skinny bitches around.)

I really am glad I'm doing this show and working to reinvigorate this group. It's got possiblilty, I've got possiblity. Yay. Maybe I'll drink less with something to keep me out of trouble! I'm staring in The Last Five Years with my Petunia (my Tommy wife) in the fall. With the same director as the show I'm in now. After a summer with the skinny bitches, I promise I'll be in more presentable shape by then. I'm trying to find an alternate theater space too. I'm meeting with the president of the group at the cast party tonight to talk about that, and also other publicity options.

It's very exciting. Indeed.

It's curtain time and away we go -
Another op'nin
Just another op'nin of another show!