RoCkInG The Boat!

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Friday, July 08, 2005


Waking up to the radio headlines yesterday morning brought that sickening sense of deja vu -- we've all been through this before, as unfortunately, have the people of London. As terrible and tragic and senseless and cowardly as these actions were, as many lives have been cut short, ruined or traumatized, at least there's some small solace in the knowledge that Londoners are a hardy, resilient people; they've survived the Bubonic Plague, The Blitz, The IRA, and the Thatcher Regime, just to name a few, and they'll survive this too.

Just received notice a few moments ago that my temp assignment will be ending the middle of next week. Things evidentally get pretty slow around here in the summer, and although the person I've been supporting is going on a month's vacation, the owner also just hired a new research assistant who will be picking up the slack. So, it's back on the hustings again, with resultant severely reduced income for the short-term, which is problematic as my cash reserves are dwindling - the $300 worth of auto body work I had to pay for last month not helping matters. Guess that means boat repairs are going to be put off -- again, and if things don't turn around within the next month, putting her up for sale may become a necessity.

In slightly better news, I do have at least one promising interview on the 18th with the local office of the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists (AFTRA), the broadcast and commercial performers union, for a position as their business affairs manager & assistant to their executive director. I think I've got a good shot at it, and it would pay something close to my former position. Keep your fingers crossed.

We got The Show up on its feet last night, and so the extra-curricular portion of my life will be winding down, along with the workaday side; still things to do, but the constant deadline pressure is gone, as is my ongoing struggle to get people to turn things in to me in a timely fashion. The show could use a teensy bit of settling, but otherwise its quite enjoyable, although if you're planning to see it, I highly recommend bringing an extra seat cushion, along with bottled water.

You can go to these links to see some of the results of my efforts:

Seattle PI

Seattle Weekly

The Stranger

Capitol Hill Times

From here on out, it's a matter of selling the show with the (presumably) positive reviews that will be out next week, promoting the Gala event, dealing with a possible extension, and generally trying to get paying customers in the seats.

It's been a rewarding experience, a real stretch for me, and one wherein by all accounts, based on the incredibly generous feedback I've received, my efforts have been been greatly appreciated. Who knows? Maybe it's a completely different direction to pursue.

And Now For Something Completely Different -

Playing (With A) Possum

Finally, this amusing little anecdote: I got to bed way past my bedtime last night, due to post-opening performance celebrations, and was quite rudely awakened at about 4:30 this morning by both of my cats engaging in (for them) an uncharacteristic pre-dawn hissy fit. Keep in mind, my cats have never gotten along; 15 years together and they still act like that old, bickering couple from down the block, the ones whom you can't ever quite figure out why they got together in the first place, only in the case of these two they really didn't have any choice in the matter.

So, they've started in with the hissing and the whining -- you know the sound, that low, sustained growl that communicates in no uncertain terms, "BACK OFF!". Usually, I just thrust out with a foot beneath the covers in hopes of startling one of them into jumping off the bed and thus quelling the argument. For once, this didn't have the intended effect. In fact, one was still on the bed, but now I could clearly discern the other was under the bed, yowling unabated, ergo they aren't yowling at each other.

Then I remembered I'd left the kitchen door open before going to bed. It had been cool outside, and when I had gotten home, both cats had immediately leapt through the door for some nocturnal adventures practically before I could get it open, and I hadn't felt like waiting up for their return, just to close it.

So, the first thought that burbled into my sleep-addled brain was, there's another cat in the apartment. On rare occasions one of my upstairs neighbors' cats have ventured inside my abode, willfully ignoring the old saw about curiosity and what it does to cats, and so my assumption was this was probably causing the ruckus. Reluctantly I got up, switched on the lights, and performed a cursory inspection, but no intruder was to be found. Still, the agitated caterwauling continued, and it took me a minute to realize their ire was being directed at something still underneath the bed. I grabbed a flashlight, moved a couple of boxes aside, and sure enough I could finally see the culprit: a fair sized native North American marsupial, cowering in the far corner, grinning its rictus-like "Nightmare Before Christmas" grin, its pink rat-tail stretched out like a wire, grey fur puffed out so that it looked like one of those fuzzy things you use to dust behind furniture.

Okaaaaay - there's an opposum under my bed. No big deal. It didn't appear rabid, just frightened, and not inclined to make a run for it with two angry felines at the ready and a large hominid blinding it to boot. Still, I couldn't just leave the thing there, so I needed a plan to extricate it. I grabbed a broom, moved a few more boxes, tried to corral the cats out of the way on top of the bed, and began a systematic sweeping to pursuade the critter to vacate its current sanctuary, which after several well-placed swats it did, having decided that taking its chances out in the open was probably better than continuing to get whacked with the broom bristles.

Out it scooted, blindly careening across the kitchen floor, bouncing off furniture and mop boards and recycling bins like a furry pink pinball, until it finally managed to escape to the relative safety of the great out-of-doors.

Problem solved. Back to sleep. But not before making a mental note to self:

Next time the cats are out when it's time for bed, they takes their chances on Mr. Opposum's home turf.

Posted byCOMTE on 9:24 AM

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