I Know It Don't Thrill You, I Hope It Don't Kill You
Back to work again, as we say a not-so-fondish "farewell, and good riddance!" to SNOWPOCALYPSE 2008. With barely an inch or so of the white stuff clinging to the nooks and crannies of my front yard, it's hard to believe there was nearly a foot of snow there just a few days ago, bringing Our Fair City to a grinding halt that could be heard all the way to San Diego (where a surprising number of people I know spent their holiday break).
I knew we were on the back side of the deluge on Saturday night when I encountered no fewer than four east-west bound buses on my 25-minute walk to a local theatre fundraiser. After having survived for a full eight days without so much as getting near mass transit, I actually raised my hands and cheered as the #2 come down the hill, as if the mere sight of the bus itself were a harbinger of better times to come.
I now have my office keys safely stuffed into my coat pocket, so there's no chance of forgetting them again; and the piles of unopened mail and phone messages at work proved to be far less daunting than I would have expected. Even with a short week this week, I think I'll manage to get caught up on the back-log before New Years.
So, our little adventure in surviving inclement weather is over; everyone seems to have come through their various and sundry personal ordeals in relative good spirits (although no doubt the kvetching about the lack of bus service will continue for a few more weeks), and things are slowly getting back to normal. Heck, the sun has even been out for most of the day, although it's also been accompanied by truly raging wind gusts blowing through the walkway behind my office.
How Can You Leave Me Standing Alone In A World That's So Cold?
First off, Merry Christmas, everybody!
Secondly, I'm really, REALLY hoping this snow situation is resolved in the next few days. It's been literally a week since I was last at work because of the rotten weather. In addition, getting around has been extremely hazardous - and I've been on-foot for the entire time. Buses are barely running, and those only on north-south routes that don't involve hills, which has meant they've been basically useless to me as a transportation option since I: A.) live on a hill; B.) work on another hill, and; C.) have to travel over hills to get to almost anywhere.
So, I've been schlepping myself out once a day, just to keep the cabin fever at bay, which is of course excellent exercise, sort of like doing a session on nature's eliptical trainer, so no complaints there. But, now that the snow is actually starting to melt even walking is a becoming problem due to the slippery-slidey, slushy mess left in the wake of 10+ inches of snowfall over the past eight or nine days.
I've been scouring the online transit maps trying to figure out if there's any way I can get from my house to my friends' just a few miles to the north, but without the east-west connections it's simply impossible without either walking, or, taking a cab in desperation, which may become an option, for no other reason than I've got a bunch of food to schlep along with me, and lugging it three and a-half miles through cold rain and over melting snow the consistency of cold, wet mucus just doesn't sound all that appealing to me for some reason.
Oh well, could be worse; could be - um, oh. It's snowing. Again.
Nevermind.
Anyway, stay warm, stay dry, and enjoy the day. That's what I'm going to try to do.
My boss just called and declared today yet another "snow day". This is the fourth day I've been off work since we got hit with the series of snow storms starting last Wednesday. At peak, I had roughly 9 - 10" in my front yard, and very little of it has melted off so far. In fact, although it warmed up a bit yesterday, the temps dropped back below freezing overnight, so the melt has just turned into a solid, crusty sheet of ice wherever the snow hasn't been cleared - which is essentially everywhere. Some of the major arterials have been plowed and sanded/de-iced (we don't use salt up here), but it only marginally opens things up; side and residential streets haven't been touched at all, so if your car isn't on a major street, most people aren't bothering.
And of course, being a city built on hills, most of our bus service has been curtailed as well. If I DID have to go in to work, it would most likely turn into a 1 1/2 - 2 hour one-way commute, since the few open routes are running on half-schedules, and delays are currently about 45 minutes behind normal. So, really, there's not much point in traveling 3 - 4 hours just to spend a few hours on-the-job. Fortunately, this is generally a slow time of the year for us anyway, and with modern technology, we've been able to handle the few routine emails and inquiries from home anyway.
Naturally, all this has put holiday travel plans on complete hold: the local forecast is calling for yet ANOTHER snow storm late this evening, with a possible accumulation of up to 3" more on top of what we already have, and then mixed snow and rain through the remainder of the week. The Big Red Bus is almost literally buried in drifts at this point, trains aren't running, hundreds of flights have already been canceled or rescheduled; nature has pretty much dictated that, if you absolutely DON'T have to go any distance farther than you can walk, you're odds are not good. So, I'm staying put.
At least it's warm and dry here - although I'm beginning to run low on indoor projects.
Good News #1: I made it to my office this morning. Took me nearly two hours, between the long wait for buses, the elongated serpentine snow-routes, and the fact that some buses just never showed up at all. So, I ended up walking the last two miles, roughly from the University of Washington to my office 40th & Aurora, because none of the east-west routes on 40th were running due to icy hills.
Bad News #1: Once there, I couldn't actually get into my office, because neither of my co-workers were there, nor was the building maintenance staff, and I haven't seen my set of keys since Wednesday.
Good News #2: On a hunch I went around to the walkway between our building and the condos next door, and took a peek through my ground-floor window. Sure enough, the keys were sitting on my desk where I'd accidentally left them Wednesday afternoon. So, at least I know they didn't fall out of my pocket on a Metro bus, which essentially would have meant never seeing them again.
Bad News #2: Of course, I still couldn't retrieve said keys (see: Bad News #1 above).
This is my bus, still stuck at the top of the hill where we abandoned it about an hour ago. The entire downslope has been closed off to traffic for two blocks in either direction. I'm back home now, contemplating whether it's going to be worth trying to get to work at all, since there's still heavy snow falling, with about 3 inches accumulation where I am, and doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon.
Might be a good time to get something hot going on the stove: Thai curry is sounding pretty good right about now.
UPDATE 10:05 a.m.: Just found out, my alternate bus route has also been shut down, due to a jack-knifed articulated bus blocking the entire street in both directions.
Am starting to boil water for rice, and putting the kettle on to make coffee. Still snowing heavily.
Stay warm.
UPDATE 10:45 a.m.: Word was, the snow accumulation was supposed to stop around 10:00 a.m., but from the looks of things, it's coming down even harder; I can barely see the neighbor's house across the street, which means visibility is down to around 150 feet, with about 3 1/2 - 4 inches on the ground so far, and no signs of it letting up.
UPDATE 1:30 p.m.: Pretty much continuous snowfall since this morning. Accumulation approximately 5 - 5 1/2 inches. Seems to be tapering off, but the gusts of wind are blowing it around quite a bit. Starting to see just a little clearing, although that's what it was doing around 9:30 this morning as well, so who knows?
Our promised-then-reneged snow storm has finally arrived as of about an hour ago. Just a light dusting so far, but it does seem to be coming down steadily. Temps are supposed to plummet into the 20's overnight, so whatever accumulation we get between now and then is going to freeze up solid.
For the moment, however, I'm securely battened down, with a homemade chicken pot pie fresh out of the oven, and with only other major decision to make this evening being whether to have a whisky, scotch or mead with my dinner.
Tomorrow is supposed to be essentially a repeat of today: snow late in the afternoon accompanied by below-freezing overnight temperatures. Which means Monday is shaping up to be a FUN commute. Thank goodness there's always the bus.
Slow Down, You Move Too Fast Got To Make The Morning Last
Yes, yes, I know. No updates for a week. Things have been, well, slow. Not terribly exciting - which I suppose is a GOOD thing - and hence nothing really to report.
Frankly, it's a nice change of pace from the generally hectic pace of my life; a nice way to ease into the holidays. Hopefully, this diminished stress level will continue through to the end of the year.
Good times, tons of food, wine flowing like a fountain, frustrating first Wii experiences, and triumphal "Celebrities" playing ensued. Somehow, in the midst of the festivities, Molly managed a 30 minute nap on the living room sofa (it's her superpower - apparently, she can fall asleep just about anywhere, and in what I personally would consider non-sleep-inducing positions to boot), while the rest of us prattled away merrily.
High point of the evening: sitting on the back deck with Sibyl and P-Ratt as they both gushed enthusiastically (and admittedly a bit tipsily), about what a great guy I am: Sibyl claiming I had a heart "as big as the outdoors", while P-Ratt insisted I've done many things on behalf of her and her family (I let them stay in my apartment - once - after their house flooded a couple of years ago), and so-on and such.
It's a little embarrassing: I don't really think I go out of my way to be generous to people; frankly, it's not even something to which I generally give much thought. If somebody needs something, and I'm in a position to provide it without causing myself undue discomfort or inconvenience, it just seems like the right thing to do. But, I guess I have to learn to start taking these compliments with a little more grace, and just recognize that what may not seem like a big deal to myself can still be a big deal to other people.
But, it did get me to thinking, in observance of the spirit of the day, just how thankful I am to have generous, kind, thoughtful and loving friends. I try not to take them for granted, but perhaps I could do a better job of letting them know how much I value and appreciate their camaraderie - and their kind words. So, if you haven't heard it from me lately, "thanks for being my friend!"
Anyway, hope all of you had a festive and safe Turkey Day as well.
For some strange reason, I seem to be misplacing things lately. Weird things: a pair of gloves, my parking garage pass, one of my kitchen sink stoppers, a CD (I've still got the case), a polo shirt.
Before The Bulldozers Waltzed In And Killed The Old Street
I was adding some friends to my FaceBook account on my lunch break today (yeah, I know, but ALL the kids are doing it these days - MySpace is SO last year - apparently), and on a lark I started searching for the names of people I've lost contact with over the years; old college friends and such. And lo-and-behold if one didn't actually turn up!
We were pretty good friends in our undergrad days, and when I moved to Seattle after finishing grad school in Bellingham in 1985 we got re-acquainted; in fact she let me stay at her place the first week or so I was in town until I could connect with another mutual college friend with whom I was planning to share an apartment.
Over the next several years we kept pretty close; for awhile we lived just a few blocks apart on Capitol Hill, and we spent a lot of time together, just hanging out, playing chess (something I don't think I've done for years!), having these afternoon-long philosophical discussions (I still think Kant was full of B.S.) - and we were even involved in a theatre company together for a couple of years. Even though I frequently, vehemently disagreed with her on all manner of issues, I still held immense respect for her; I always thought of her as being one of the most intelligent people I'd ever met - far more so than myself - and she always challenged me to come up to her level, which I think I managed to do on occasion. I considered her my best friend at the time, which is odd in a way, because I don't think there was ever anything more than that between us; certainly nothing romantic, at least so far as I was ever aware.
After she got married in, oh, 1994 I think, we completely lost track of each other. Her husband ran in a completely different social group, and we just sort of fell off of each other's radar screens; in fact, if I recall correctly we haven't seen each other since her wedding day nearly 15 years ago.
But, I never stopped thinking about her, wondering how her life had turned out. I would occasionally drop her name into a search engine, to see if any sign of her would come back, but there were never any hits; some people just naturally keep a low-profile in this world where almost everything about us can be tracked to some extent. And so, I never really thought I'd ever run into her again, and I always rather regretted that, because frankly, she'd been a very good friend and goodness knows that's something rare.
So, I hadn't really expected to find her on FaceBook, of all places. But sure enough, her name popped right up, and she answered the somewhat tentative query I sent (well, I never thought I'd share my name with two other people in the U.S., so there was at least a reasonable chance of it not being her), and we actually had a very pleasant exchange of emails this evening.
As one would expect, our lives have taken their own unique turns, but we still seem to have some things in common: evidently, we're both hooked on Heroes, for one; another being that we both seem to have very full lives, which for the moment at least will probably preclude our being able to get together in person for some time. But still, a reconnection has been made - we both know we're out there, and we've got a line of communication open again after 15 years of silent running.
It's not going to be the same as before - how in the world could it be after that long an absence? But even in our brief conversation I had a sense of that temporal distance beginning to diminish. I don't want to read too much into a few minutes of typed correspondence, but I will say it felt really very nice to talk to my old, good friend again after so many years.
Last night was closing for the show. Frankly, I was rather sorry to see it go. We didn't do spectacular business during the six-week run, but audiences were definitely picking up, and we have been getting pretty decent word-of-mouth, which was encouraging. But of course, just when it feels like the momentum is starting to turn in your favor, it's all over. It's one of the frustrating things about how we have to operate: you can only run your show for so long, before you have to make way for the next one, so in a situation like this, just when you're just starting to build audiences, you have to stop.
And it's amazing, not to mention a little unnerving, how months worth of preparation, planning, rehearsal, building, sweating and laboring can be reduced in about 90 minutes to nothing more than an empty stage, with only a few spots of unpainted floor to mark that the show was ever there in the first place. Once it was done, we held our post-show celebration, and threw a little party for ourselves, but I have to say, I was feeling a little less than celebratory: I was really proud of this piece, of the effort everyone put into it, and the results that came out of their hard work. I wished it could have been seen by more people, I think they would have enjoyed it, just as those who DID see it seemed to do. It's been a long time since I've felt that good about something into which I've put so much of myself, and I suppose there was a bit of ego involved in not wanting to let it slip away so quickly.
But, as I said, that's the way things work around here. I had my time, took my shot, and now it's someone else's turn.
Thanks again to everyone who put in so much work on "The Moon Is A Dead World"; I couldn't have done it alone, and it wouldn't have been nearly as amazing without your participation.
A couple of months I bought an electric guitar at a theatre fundraiser, because, well, this is what I do - buy crazy things at charity events.
Be that as it may, I've been told - by people who know these kinds of things - that this is a very good guitar. But of course, the kicker is that I've never played a guitar before (a brief, fruitless flirtation with the ukulele not withstanding), let alone any other musical instrument more complex than a tambourine. But, it's something that's been perennially at the top of my "things I've always regretted not doing" list. So, I bought the guitar with the silly notion in the back of my head that I would actually learn how to play it.
The nice thing about musical instruments, as opposed to say, theatre, is that you don't need a whole bunch of other people to help make it happen. You can just sit in your room and practice all by yourself, whenever you've got a few spare minutes. And with modern technology, you don't even have to worry about annoying the neighbors - evidently you can plug a set of headphones into a modern, solid-state amplifier and blast away to your heart's content without so much as rattling the crockery in the next room!
Well naturally, my schedule for the past couple of months has precluded much more than picking it up on occasion, and trying to learn a couple of chords off Internet instruction videos, which - truth be told - aren't terribly helpful.
But, just by chance about three weeks ago I came across an advert for something called "Guitar 101" offered at EMP (Better known to locals as "that ugly melted-crayon building Paul Allen forced us to plop down next to the Space Needle".) The price seemed quite reasonable, and although it's group, as opposed to individual instruction, so far, two weeks in, it does seem to be giving us a fairly good handle on the basics - so far as I can tell. All I really know is that the ends of the fingers on my left hand are sore as the dickens, but toughening up. Our instructor, Amy Stolzenbach, is a bona fide "local rock legend", so we're learning from an actual working musician, which is also helpful, because she knows all sorts of short-cuts and "cheats" that you probably wouldn't learn from someone too caught up in formalities; like she says, "if you aren't having fun, what's the point?"
Now, I'm certainly not expecting to become some sort of Rock God after a mere six weeks of instruction, but I figure, if I can learn enough to give me a solid foundation (which may entail springing for "Guitar 102" in February), maybe - just maybe, I'll eventually feel comfortable enough with it to take some more advanced instruction from any of the several musician friends I know who teach such.
Chinese Kite, Folding Chairs, Lift On Where You Take The Stairs
I just got a phone call from Actors' Equity Association Western Regional Director Mary Lou Westerfield. She was calling to inform me that I have been selected by the Western Regional Stage Managers Committee, on behalf of AEA's Western Regional Board, as the recipient of the 2008 Lucy Jordan Humanitarian Award.
This is what the Equity web site says about the Award:
"The Lucy Jordan Humanitarian Award (LJHA) is the only recognition award given by the Western Regional Board of Actors' Equity Association. It was established by the Stage Managers Committee in 1992 to commemorate the unflagging spirit of former Western Region Business Field Rep, Lucy Jordan, who passed away unexpectedly in May of that year. The LJHA is given to honor any members of the extended theatrical family who go above and beyond the call of duty, who embody that spirit of show business in which we are at our best, our most unselfish, where we go to the nth degree to make the working experience magical and special. We, the Stage Managers Committee members, are delighted to see Lucy Jordan's heritage carried on by someone who shares so much of her spirit."
I've been forced to use a cane to get around for the past few days - a cane!
The "strawberry" on my left knee, plus the accompanying swelling in the knee and ankle have severely reduced mobility in the leg, and I've been having a bit of trouble getting up and down stairs. So Friday night while I was at the theatre, I borrowed a cane from the guy who runs the little vintage store downstairs, and have been limping around ever since.
Actually, I'm okay on flats and gradual inclines, it's just those dang steps that have been causing me problems, so most of the time I'm just carrying it around "just in case", and not in fact even using it for the most part. But still, just the idea that I need it at all has been a little depressing.
Today, however, I managed to get down my apartment steps and onto "Little Nellie" with only minor inconvenience. Hopefully, the swelling will start to go down fairly soon, and I'll be able to bend my knee enough to not have to hobble up-and-down stairs like the invalid I apparently am for the moment.
I was born exactly one week prior to the 1960 election, so of course I was far too young to have had even an inkling of the kind of enthusiasm that moment generated, and the spirit of hope and confidence that was its result.
But, I feel like last night, surrounded by crying, hugging, cheering, drunk-off-our-collective-asses friends, and standing in the middle of the spontaneous eruption of sheer joy that took over the middle of Broadway & E Pike last night, this must be what it felt like for the generation of Boomers who lived through that unforgettable moment in our nation's history.
Something has fundamentally changed within the collective consciousness of our nation, something that, while it may be resisted by some, can never be turned back. Racism may still exist in this country, but despite that we can still elect a Black Man for President. There will still be conflicts between generations, but for the first time in MY life at least, I had the privilege of voting for a Presidential Candidate who is YOUNGER than myself. Conservatives and liberals may still be at-odds in terms of how we view our country, and the path we wish it to follow for the next four-to-eight years, but WE chose that path in a demonstration for all the world to view with awe and wonder, that despite the deep divisions that exist between individual Americans, our people can still exercise the right to chose our own destiny - for good or ill.
McCain gave a moving concession speech in Arizona last evening, so much so that at one point I leaned over to a friend and said, "if he'd spoken like this over the past several months, he might actually have had a shot at this thing!" It was a call to Republicans, conservatives, and to the Religious Right to accept the loss, to move on, and to commit to working WITH the new leadership for the betterment of all. I have no doubt many on that side will fail to heed his words; there's too much animosity, too much hate, too much lingering mistrust and fear of The Other for many of them to be able to come to grips with the New Reality.
But, many will mark what was said, by both McCain, and later by President-Elect Obama (don't those words just send shivers of delight up your spine?) that WE ALL have to do this TOGETHER if we're going to achieve anything useful, lasting, and worthy of our history, heritage, and potential. WE ALL have to learn to be better Americans - first and foremost to each other. And I can only hope enough of us can set aside our differences, work for our common good, and fulfill the promise of what it truly means to be an American in the 21st Century.
But I Thought The Old Lady Dropped It Into The Ocean In The End...
Ugh! Dumped "Little Nellie" - again.
The scarred patch on my left knee is going to have a scar on top of it, but otherwise, I'm fine. Was coming down E. Union just past 18th, when a car crept out of an alley to my right. I tend to get a little cautious when this happens, because I never know if they've seen me, and are going to come all the way out into the street. So, I barely touched my brakes, but that was all it took. Only this time I didn't bounce right back up, because "Nellie" ended up on top of me, and I was basically pinned to the ground in the middle of the street. Fortunately, the driver and several passerby (one of whom claimed to be a doctor - there are several hospitals in close proximity, so not implausible) got the scooter off me, and then stood over me until the Aid Car arrived.
Once they determined I could be moved, they got me on my feet, and off the street, by which point at least one SPD unit had arrived. Needless to say, I was rushing on the adrenaline, and in some serious pain. Fortunately, I had most of my protective gear on: helmet, gloves and jacket - only lacking the overpants-with-kneepads - so I'm out one pair of khaki slacks, and some skin off my knee. Since nothing appeared to be broken, and there was no indication of back or neck trauma, I elected to forgo a ride in the ambulance to the E.R., and even managed to get "Nellie" back home; she of course, suffered only a couple of minor scrapes - in pretty much the exact same places as last time as well.
Oooh, now we BOTH will have new scars on top of old scars...
The Machines Have Been Drinking From The Waters Of Lethe
Thanks to everyone for the birthday shout-outs yesterday, whether in-person, by phone, e-mail, facebook, or even song. It was a great, and surprisingly productive, day and I think everybody had as much fun at the various and sundry scheduled events as I did!
It was a great way to start the second-to-last year of my 40's.
He Never Did Win No Checkered Flag But He Never Did Come In Last
Well, best-laid plans and all.
I raced home from work last night, threw on my costume for the fund-raiser, hopped in The Big Red Bus, stopped to gas up, and hit the freeway headed for south Tacoma around 6:00 p.m. We'd been making the 40 mile trip in about 45 minutes, so I figured this would give me just enough time to grab a quick bite somewhere along the way, and still make my 7:00 p.m. call.
Then, about 15 miles down the road, I hit the traffic jam. Instantly, the entire southbound side of I-5 became a parking lot. At around 6:55, after having traveled the entirety of about 1 mile, I called the theatre to tell them I was running late. The person who answered the phone informed me they'd heard there was a terrible accident just south of me, and that news sources were reporting a delay of up to FOUR HOURS, because all but one lane had been shut down by fire trucks, ambulances, police, et al. Clearly, if I was going to have any chance of making the show, I was going to have to get off the freeway and make my way south via an alternate route.
Unfortunately, I was between exits, with the next one more than a mile away, and traffic moving at literally a snail's pace. All I could do was wait it out and hope for the best.
At around 7:15 I got a call from James, the director, to check on my progress - which of course, wasn't very good. I told him I'd get off at the next exit - still about half a mile away - and do my best to get there by 8:00 p.m. Fortunately, we have an automatic "10 minute hold" built into the top of the show, so I had a tiny bit of extra cushion, but things were not looking optimistic at that point.
I finally reached the next exit at around 7:35, having taken about 40 minutes to go approximately 1 1/4 miles, but at that point I was still roughly 20 miles from my destination, and because so many other people had the same idea - get off I-5 and take surface arterials - things were still pretty backed-up. But, at least I was moving, and eventually the traffic thinned out to the point that I could actually go more than four or five blocks without missing the traffic light synchronization.
By the time I worked my way down to Fife, just north of Tacoma, I was parallel to the freeway and - lo and behold! - it was clear of traffic, and the handful of cars I could see were moving at top speed. Clearly, I'd by-passed the accident scene, and so I took the first on-ramp, and - ahem! - raced toward my destination.
I have never, in 26 years of doing theatre, EVER been late for a show. I've missed rehearsals due to illness, I've had shows canceled due to weather or someone else's illness, I've even missed one or two entrances once I got there, but NEVER have I actually not made it to a scheduled performance - and I wasn't about to let this be the exception. Needless to say, I put the "petal to the metal", as the truckers say, and pushed TBRB to its top-end speed - all of 75 mph; it was quite literally as fast as it would go! Reckless, I know, but I HAD to get to the theatre!
When I finally arrived in Lakewood, I pulled into the parking lot, jumped out of the Bus, ran in to the lobby, took one, deep, calming breath, and walked onstage - with the show already in-progress. Not including the "hold", they were about five minutes into the actual performance. As I walked on, James immediately came over, took my trench coat and fedora (Yay for pre-dressing!), showed me where we were in the script (I'd missed only one live sound effect), and sat down with about 30 seconds before having to execute my next cue.
And that, as they say, was that. The rest of the show went flawlessly, they had a good turn-out, and later, when speaking with a few of the patrons after the performance, they were rather surprised to learn that the entrance hadn't been planned that way from the start - things went that smoothly.
Still, not something I would care to replicate again anytime soon.
Now I Ain't Seen No Saucers 'Cept The Ones Upon The Shelf
Have spent the last few evenings rehearsing a little radio play with a couple of theatre friends of mine down in - Lakewood, of all places. Â I had contacted my friend James (who has done these on-and-off for the past decade) a couple of months ago to see if he had any plans to revive the piece, and it just so happens this year coincides with the 70th Anniversary of both the broadcast AND the theatre company for which he now works, so he had pitched it to them some time back as a fund-raiser, and was already planning to ask me if I was interested in working on it (this will be my fourth go-round).
It's a fun piece; we do almost all of the sound-effects live (music is recorded), as well as in period costumes, plus we've got an actor who looks remarkably like a young Orson Welles, who does a passable vocal impersonation as well.
Unfortunately, the event tonight is sold-out, so even if you had a burning desire to trek to the wilds of South Tacoma, you'd miss out. Â However, rumor has it we may audio record tonight's performance, so I might possibly be able to post a link to that down the road.
So, while I was busy setting up, bartending, and tearing down my very-soon-to-be-Old-Boss' retirement party earlier this evening, a bunch of my comrades were busy engaging in a periodic community forum regarding the state of the local theatre scene. This event, sponsored by a local alterna-alternative weekly tabloid was prompted by a recent op-ed that suggested some things local theatre orgs could do to "save themselves", and which inevitably resulted in a small firestorm of critical response, of which I (naturally) had a few opinions to express.
Apparently, my absence was somewhat keenly felt (or so I was told by no less than a dozen participants, including both the moderator and sponsor of the event), as at one point early in the proceedings someone brought up my name in some context, and, as I was not there to respond on my own behalf, someone else stood up and responded in my place, going so far as to take my name, which evidently led to a Spartacus-like invocation by no less than 40 people (which, according to someone's head-count would have comprised roughly 1/3 of the attendees) all claiming to be me.
By the time I actually arrived at the event, approximately 40 minutes or so after the "moment", my entrance was greeted with raucous applause - certainly the only time in my life when such a thing has occurred. Frankly, I'm still not sure exactly why, but I guess it's not for me to question.
So, I guess that makes me Kirk Douglas to their Tony Curtis et al
Still, it's a little unnerving - particularly for anyone who remembers how that movie ends.
Harry Hooper Living In #10 Bought A Toupee & Glued It To His Head
I've been keeping a pretty low profile this past week aprez-show; just recharging the batteries, and letting things return to a more normal pace. Nothing exciting - trying to save that for the upcoming B-Day next weekend.
Still, wanted to surface for just a moment to let you know - things are A-Okay.
Giant Steps Are What You Take, Walking On The Moon
Wow.
I don't think we could have had a better opening night. There was a good-sized turnout, with several reviewers in attendance, and the entire show from beginning to end just shined. Everyone stepped up to the plate and hit home run after home run. I sat in the very last row, taking it all in, and by the end I think I was crying, both from a sense of relief that we had actually pulled off this incredibly difficult production, but also just from the realization that we had done so with remarkable grace and finesse. I could not have been prouder of my cast, designers, crew and technicians than I was when the audience erupted into applause at the curtain call.
One of the last things I said to the cast before the show was to remember this play is a dark comedy, but that it was vital to NOT play the humor; in fact, the more deadly serious they took the events and situations in the play, the funnier it becomes. But I don't think even I was completely prepared for the response. I knew there were funny moments - funny to me, at least - but the audience, admittedly a very friendly one, were laughing at things all the way through; and the cast, having only had perhaps a handful of times during the rehearsal period where someone laughed out loud, were completely synced with the audience. Timing was impeccable, laughs were acknowledged and held for, then left behind with a sense of confidence and agility that simply made me marvel.
It was, in short, a magical evening, and I think even now, a couple hours shy of a full night's sleep, and beginning to feel the symptoms of a head cold I've been stalling off for several days, I still feel a bit giddy, like I'm walking a few inches off the ground.
So, if you run into me the next few days, and you see me with a lingering blissed-out expression on my face, you'll know why.
So, things tonight went - pretty well. I spoke briefly with the cast about 45 minutes before curtain time, just to remind them this was a black comedy, and that people in the audience might actually LAUGH at some of the dialog - which in fact, turned out to be the case. And they played through the laughter as well as I could have possibly wished.
Which, I guess, means we have a show now. THEY have a show now. My part is done.
I just get to show up occasionally at this point and see what they've changed. Hopefully, my stage manager will keep them MOSTLY on the straight-and-narrow, but there are always new things to learn, new discoveries for the actors to make, and I hope they continue to make them during the course of the run.
But, for better or worse, I'm just a member of the audience now.
The thing is, now matter how the show goes tonight, I'm pretty much guaranteed one of two possible outcomes: 1.) if it goes well, the critics will hail Mike as the genius he is, the cast will receive oodles of deserved praise, and most likely the designers will get shout-outs for their imaginative, innovative use of the space; 2.) if the show somehow goes off the tracks, I'll be the one who gets the blame. It's just the nature of the business, and as director I have to accept those terms whether I think they're fair or not. Still, I'd much prefer outcome number 1. above.
So, I guess it's no surprise I woke up an hour before my alarm clock this morning unable to go back to sleep, and I can already feel the knots beginning to kink up in my stomach. Which means, I'm probably going to be a complete wreck by curtain time tonight.
The show is coming right along. Amazing to think that, just a week ago, I was losing large amounts of sleep worrying about whether or not we'd actually get to this point before opening night. But, after last evening's run-through I'm feeling confident we'll have a successful opening. There's still some fine-tuning adjustments to make, but everyone: cast, crew, and designers have all really embraced the "let's continue to improve things" ethic at work these past few days.
On the other hand, I'm also starting to feel that sense of ambivalence that comes at this point in the process, as the director begins to "let go" of the production, and passes it off to the cast and running crew. I've put so much of myself into this project since first emailing Mike back in April; I've literally sweat, and struggled, and even fought at times to get this project off the ground, and yet, just at the moment where all of the elements are about to come together to turn the words-on-paper into a living, tangible reality, I have to commence the process of stepping away. As of 8:00 p.m. tomorrow night, it's no longer MY show; and although, over the next five weeks it will be the job of the cast and production crew to continue to express the "vision" developed by the playwright, designers, and myself, it really does become theirs to perform, and hopefully to improve in small ways throughout the course of the run.
It'll be interesting to come back to it in a few weeks and see how it's changed in the myriad of subtle ways that any show of this type does over time.
And Curse Sir Walter Raleigh, He Was Such A Stupid Git
The killer weekend is finally over: two back-to-back "ten-out-of-twelves" (for the uninitiated, this is a day when the cast, production staff and crew work for ten hours out of a twelve-hour period to add in all the technical elements of the play: lights, sound, costumes, special effects, et al.)
And I have to say, despite my exhaustion (the power on my block went out last evening, and the City crews were out all night cutting tree limbs and restringing lines - right outside my apartment door - until about 4:00 a.m. this morning), that things are looking pretty spectacular. It's going to be very different from what the average theatre-goer tends to imagine when they go to see a play, and I have a lot of people to thank for helping to make that happen.
Right now, I'm just looking forward to a drink, a shower, and a good night's sleep. Tomorrow is a holiday from work, but I have a couple of errands to run, and plan to do some clean-up in the theatre before the evening's rehearsal.
But, the good news is, we're over the hump, things are in excellent shape, and I really feel like we've got a show. It might not be everyone's cup-o', but it's a lot closer to what I originally envisioned than, frankly, I ever thought we'd be able to achieve in six weeks, with volunteer labor, and a $300 (!) production budget.
This is what nerds - er, "new technology professionals" - do for relaxation after 12 straight hours teching a theatrical production - have a light-saber battle with their iPhones.
I Think Its Quarter To Three When Its Half Past Six
It's been another crazy week. Rehearsals have been going pretty well, but we had a bit of a set-back last Thursday when one of the actors got into a bike accident and had to miss a rehearsal (a run-through of the entire show - very important!) because of the "24 hour observation rule" for cases of potential head-trauma. He's okay, and certainly things could have been much worse, but still - bad timing that.
Spent most of this weekend working with the Lighting Designer to get the lights hung, powered and focussed. Things are progressing, but it's slow work, and there's still a lot more to do, including the remaining set work, which is considerable.
Hard to believe we're only 11 days away from opening night - there's a part of me that really, really wishes we had an extra week, and that part generally likes to keep me awake into the wee hours thinking about all the things that need to happen between now and then.
But, there's also the - admittedly somewhat smaller at this point - part that tries to reassure me: "your people know their jobs; trust them", which does make a bit of a difference, but still, I can't help worrying; it's my responsibility to make this whole crazy extravaganza come off, and I know in the back of my head it WILL - I just have to give everyone else the time to do what they need to do to make sure that happens.
I'm Going Up The Country Where The Water Tastes Like Wine
Some things I learned from this weekend's theatre retreat:
- "First to arrive/last to leave" means maximum hot-tub usage
- Cooking breakfast for 18 people will result in your taking home lots of leftovers
- With no impending crises to deliberate, there will be a lot of time left over to talk about things like, "what kind of art do we want to make?"
- Watching people get accidentally sprayed by water jets because they've bailed too much water out of the hot-tub is pretty funny
- Spilling water all over the hot-tub controls will not necessarily kill you, but it will make the hot-tub stop working for a while
- As a corollary to the above, being the only one who seems to be able to get the hot-tub to work again will make you VERY popular
- Some people can't tell the difference between Sarah Palin and Tina Fey as Sarah Palin
- When a tipsy much younger woman with self-image issues asks you if you think they're "cute", always answer, "yes", but with the understanding you must then try to delicately avoid stepping on as many of the inevitable emotional IED's that will be suddenly strewn in your path as possible
- Everybody loves bacon, absolutely everybody, including Jews and vegetarians. This does not mean they will necessarily EAT the bacon, but they WILL love it, nonetheless
- If you watch your friends playing a seemingly incomprehensible dice game long enough, eventually you will be able to explain the rules to someone else, without even really realizing you've learned them yourself
- Do not EVER engage in a hot-tub version of "Truth or Makeout" with four women EVER, under any circumstances. You WILL regret it (some lessons we learn on behalf of the less fortunate)
- A hot-tub is an essential ingredient for a successful retreat
- A shark-attack can happen ANYWHERE, even miles from the nearest body of salt water
- The stars are still much brighter in the country than in the city
- No one will complain about YOUR snoring if: A.) there's an even louder snorer in the party; and B.) you sleep in your bus
- Having a baby around will not necessarily add to the discussion, but it will occasionally provide a welcome distraction. And sometimes, the noises the baby makes will actually be a pretty good representation of what you yourself are thinking at that moment
- Contemplating eating nearly an entire half-gallon of left-over ice cream because you have no room in your freezer is not nearly as tempting as it sounds
I got a mention in Playbill Magazine (for those of you not in-the-know, Playbill is THE New York theatre magazine/program you get at pretty much every Broadway show, plus a lot of other smaller NYC theatres as well. Not that THIS listing will appear there, but - who knows?)
And okay, it's really all about the author (as it should be), but what the heck.
Just got my new prescription glasses in the mail yesterday afternoon.
Hoo-boy, either my vision has REALLY deteriorated in the past couple of years, or else my last optometrist (whom I only visited one time) completely botched my previous 'script.
I was advised by my new eye doc that it would take a few days to adjust to the different settings, but right now I feel like I'm looking at the world in perpetual Cinemascope; there's a definite "curvature" to my field-of-view right now; sort of like looking out through the inside of a fish-bowl or space helmet (somewhat appropriate, given my current circumstances.)
Still, I must admit, the peripheral vision in my left eye (the one with the double-astigmatism) does seem to be vastly improved. On the other hand, the increased magnification on the lower part of my bi-focals is going to take some getting used to, as it's about two-thirds more powerful than before.
I Kicked The Blankets On The Floor, Turned My Pillow Upside Down
Had our first "stumble-through" of the show last night, and - things went pretty okay. There are some blocking adjustments I need to make, and we've still got a long way to go in terms of the cast really nailing the complexities of some of the sub-text (all of this probably sounds like gobbledygook to those of you not familiar with "theatre lingo" I'm sure), but it was good to have the entire thing up on its feet and run it in continuity, rather than the more randomized rehearsals we've had to-date.
Also, Mike and his director/wife/partner-in-crime Jean Michelle were in attendance last night, and they gave me some valuable insights and observations regarding various aspects of the production, both aesthetically, technically, and artistically, which we'll begin to incorporate during the next round of rehearsals.
I admit, I was pretty nervous going in, because Mike has very specific ideas about how the show should work, and given our technical and budgetary limitations, I had some concern as to whether he'd think we'd be able to successfully accomplish some of the more challenging aspects of his vision. Frankly, it's kept me awake for the past few nights, along with mulling over all the other things that have to get done in just a few short weeks, along with the general insomnia that comes with shouldering the responsibility for a project of this size and scope (we've already been picked as a "fall favorite" by a couple of localpublications, not to mention getting a shout-out in a national theatre magazine - so, you know, really no pressure or anything.) But, after a very productive post-rehearsal chat with the two of them, I feel a lot more confident that he understands our limitations, and recognizes that we're doing our best to devise creative solutions to the opportunities his script presents - and that - at this point at least - he doesn't think I completely suck at this directing thing.
So, that's another little hurdle surmounted, as we proceed into the next phase of the process
I Couldn't Close My Eyes 'Cause You Were On My Mind
So, I'm lying awake early this morning - around 5:00 a.m. by my bedside clock - because my brain refuses to let go of a particularly pesky design challenge I've run into relating to the show, when suddenly, in a moment bordering on minor epiphany, the solution (or at the very least a possible solution) presents itself.
This solution involves the following:
- a large syringe, like the kind you use to inject juice into a turkey;
- several feet of white PVC plastic refrigerator tubing;
- a sizable quantity of stage blood or equivalent;
- a disposable incontinence bed pad
I have just enough parts at home or at the theatre to construct a quick-and-dirty prototype of the item for my production meeting this evening, when I'll test it out. If it works, I'm probably golden; if not, I'm sure I can look forward to another sleepless night, while my brain continues to work the problem.
Update: Well, at the production meeting last night my ENTIRE team nixed the "brilliant solution"; the one mother in the group was particularly adamant, claiming my "prototype" reminded her too much of her last child-birth.
So much for that idea.
On the plus side, I did finally get consensus on another solution, although it does entail more in the way of technical resources. But, at least it didn't make everyone squirm in their seats.
Now, I'll just have to see how the playwright responds to things after tonight's stumble-through of the entire play.
I was down at the theatre last night doing some prep work for Marquee II: This Time It's Personal (see last Sunday's entry below), when my friend Molly, who also happens to be in the show, stopped by to check her email on the company computer.
Now, Molly has become renowned in our fairly largish extended social circle as something of a genius when it comes to baking, and in particular she's developed a reputation for creating delicious wedding cakes. In preparation for a cake she was going to bake last night for a wedding this afternoon, she'd been doing some research to create a frosting that would match the coloring of some ribbons being used as part of the bride's entourage, I believe.
So, while we were chatting, she pulled out a small sandwich bag containing a gluey white substance - I had a pretty good idea what it was, but when she opened it and I got a good nose-full of the aroma, there was no question: evidently, Molly carries plastic baggies full of butter cream frosting around with her, and under certain circumstances, she'll let you sniff it.
Which, personally, I find rather delightful, if perhaps just a tiny bit evil.
I'll Say It Straight Girl, You're Breakin' My Back
Things didn't go exactly according to plan today.
I got to the theatre about 1:00 p.m. this afternoon and started prepping for the arrival of people who were going to help me lift the marquee into place. However, before that could happen, I had a number of other tasks to complete: 1.) pre-drill holes in the masonry to install the anchors; 2.) set the anchors and the anchor boards; 3.) install the hanging boards.
Turns out, I didn't even manage to get through step number 1 before I started running into problems.
First off, it appears the window hidden beneath the sheets of corrugated metal attached to the side of our building is much larger than it appears from the inside (most of it has been boarded up for years, decades, even, so it's very difficult to ascertain the exact dimensions). I drilled the first pilot hole, which was fine, but when I went to drill another for the second anchor all I hit was empty air after punching through the metal; subsequent holes on either side of this garnered the same result.
Added to this was the fact that the guy on-duty at the skate shop directly below us came out to inform me that I was punching holes through his wall! Turns out the hidden window actually extends into the back of their shop by about 16 inches, and he could see through it; upon inspection, the hole where I'd drilled in through the sheet metal was clearly visible. But, at least I was able to go in and see where the brick actually started, which made it easier to relocate the next attempt at a pilot hole.
Unfortunately, by the time I found solid masonry beneath the metal, I'd extended the length by roughly two feet; far longer than the hangers I had at-the-ready. So, I sent the crew away, intending to finish drilling out the anchor holes, so that I could at least get those up today, with the plan of painting and prepping some 10-foot hangers over the course of the next week.
Unfortunately, just as I was starting to drill into the masonry for the second hanger, the rotary hammer I was using suddenly caught fire! There were literally flames shooting out of the bottom of the handle like rocket exhaust! So, that put a stop to hole-drilling for the day.
Besides which, after more than four hours wrestling with drills, hammers, large bolts, ladders, et al, my back and arms had finally had enough, and since there wasn't really much more I could have done anyway, I finally gave up and called it a day. Very frustrating.
Now, my back hurts something fierce from all the direct pressure on the drills, and accumulated impact vibration, and so I'm going to take a nice, long, hot shower, some Ibuprofen, and maybe a whisky, and then spend the rest of the evening in a supine position.
Best laid plans and all...
On Edit: And to top off my day, it turns out my upstairs neighbors have been doing laundry this afternoon, hence no hot water for at least an hour.
It's been a pretty hectic week, what with New Boss finally coming on-board at work, the start of rehearsals for the show, last night's Spin The Bottle, and tomorrow's planned installation of the marquee.
The pace really doesn't let up much after this weekend. Annex has it's annual retreat scheduled for two weekends from now, but otherwise, that's the only real break, aside from an occasional Friday night off, until the show opens on October 17th.
But, I have to say, it all seems to be running refreshingly smoothly, and while it's certainly a hefty workload, I don't feel like it's overwhelming - yet. But clearly, it doesn't leave me much in the way of leisure time.
I'm sure at some point it'll start feeling awfully close to setting the other end of the candle alight, but until then, I just need to stay on top of everything, not get bogged down in the minutae, and trust in those around me to do the same.
The Electrician Has Been Told To Make The Spotlights Brighter
Well, the first hurdle is out of the way. We had our first rehearsal for The Show, and despite: 1.) missing an actor (who just replaced another actor lost over the weekend); 2.) still not having a Stage Manager (an extremely important part of the production staff - although that situation MAY be resolved, we'll find out for certain this evening); and 3.) having to grab a staff member to read because the one-night-only fill-in actor I'd contacted completely spaced the rehearsal - things went pretty well.
Mike got some good feedback, and has given me likewise, so hopefully, he's feeling like his limited time with the cast & moi is being well-spent. We did a bit of a round-robin with the designers in attendance, which I think gave him some assurances in terms of where we plan to take the physical production, and hopefully, he'll get a chance to chat with the lighting designer this evening, since that's going to be a rather crucial aspect of this production as well.
All-in-all, off to a good, albeit slightly rocky start, but I hope that means we're getting the rough patches out of the way early in the process, and that we'll smooth out the bumpy parts from here on out.
Yes, decided lack of blogging these past few days. Frankly, things have been kind of slow up here, what with Summer making a hasty rush for the exit, like a diner skipping out on the bill, even as Fall, all wet and cool and gray, slips into the still-warm chair at the now unoccupied table, and sits patiently as the angry waitress clears off the remains of a meal that's coming out of her paycheck.
I suppose I could have written about some of the minutia: the rather uneventful board meeting last Saturday; or, the send-off party for one of the actors who is leaving the show a week early, wherein I discovered one of the other actresses is an alum of my high school, and in fact grew up just a few blocks from where my Grandmother used to live; or, the cleaning frenzy this past weekend that included finally removing the cat accoutrements that I've been reluctant to deal with since Jenny passed a mere two weeks ago.
That was really the hardest thing I've had to deal with recently: cleaning everything out, the water bowls, food dish, litter box, then setting them outside and letting the rain wash away the last of their contents. I vaccuumed and dusted, and swept and mopped, but there's still little vestiges of presence left in the hard-to-reach corners and under the bed, and will be for some time. I admit, I just didn't want to begin the process of removing those bits of hair and fuzz and dander - the last shreds of physical evidence that something other than myself once occupied this space. But, at some point you have to move on, move forward, let it go, sweep it clean. And doing it on a wet, but still relatively warm day seemed fitting.
Little-by-little things change, normalcy returns by incremental degrees.
Things will pick up next week surely, with the start of rehearsals; right now, I'm just waiting for a completed draft of the script so that I can start distributing it to my cast and production crew. It's promised for sometime this week, although I get a little more nervous with each passing day; there's so much I need to do: scheduling rehearsal blocks, solidifying design elements, getting marketing and publicity materials going, etc., etc., that can't really be accomplished without the most basic unit of measure - the script. But, I know it's coming, I just have to trust my playwright to get it turned in, hopefully, with enough lead-time to get it out to everyone who needs it before our first meeting Monday night.
And It Seems To Be The Way That Everyone Else Gets Around
Made a road-trip down south to go to my 30th high school reunion. I've been to a couple in the past, most recently the 25 year reunion, and attended again with just the smallest trepidation.
The thing about reunions is they're sort of the social equivalent of rubber-necking accidents on the freeway: everyone is older, balder, fatter, more unrecognizeable with each passing year, particularly when you either only see them once every five years, or, as was the case with many of my fellow classmates who attended this time around, you literally haven't set eyes on each other since the day you graduated. So, there's that definite sense of craning your neck to see if you do in fact recognize someone, or conversely, staring blankly at someone and having absolutely no idea who they are.
I guess we had a rather large graduating class by some standards, about 360 or so, if I recall correctly. And the thing is, you realize very quickly what a small number of them you had any kind of real social interaction. It wasn't until about my junior year that I experienced tentative inroads into the "A List set", that rarified elite of star athletes, cheerleaders, student government busy bodies, yearbook staff, et al, and until then my social circle was apparently fairly miniscule. Of the 150 or so alums who showed up for the festivities, I recognized maybe half (and that only because of the nametags-with-graduation-photo-attached), but the others? I had no idea who they were, couldn't recall having any of them in classes, or doing extra-curricular activities with any of them. Presumably, they represent that overwhelming mass in the middle of the bell curve: the majority of average kids who go through the educational process essentially invisible, never causing problems on the one hand, nor necessarily excelling in any particular skill or activity on the other.
Still, it was fun to catch up with a few people, the ones I did know 30 years ago, and with whom I still seemed to share at least enough common interest to be able to hold a congenial, if not particularly deep conversation with for five or ten minutes. Interestingly, we also seemed to comprise a significant number of those who managed to get the heck out of town at the earliest possible opportunity, and never look back.
Many of the kids in my graduating class apparently never left town, and while they've maintained contact with each other over the years, they also tend to emanate a strong scent of attempting to re-achieve past glory about them, as exemplefied by the charity basketball game held on Friday evening between members of our squad, which won a district championship during our Senior year, and the 2007-2008 championship squad. It shouldn't be a surprise to anyone that a bunch of over-the-hill guys pushing 50 are simply not going to be a match for a squad of healthy 18 and 19 year-olds, who played together only a few months ago; the kids were nice, kept things easy, let to old farts stay in the game until the 4th quarter, when they basically shut them down, although they still allowed the final score to be much closer than it had any right to be.
But the funny thing was, the old geezers spent most of the remainder of the weekend crowing over the fact that they managed to "lose" the game by less than 10 points; as if the kids HADN'T been slacking, and they'd actually maintained something resembling a competitive edge against them. They showed the game at least twice during the get-together on Saturday night, and many of them spent almost the entire evening in front of a big-screen TV pointing out their great moves, not really noticing that the kids they're playing are keeping distance, as if they were afraid too much contact in-close would injure one of these ancients stumbling-and-sweating themselves silly.
I suppose there's a certain satisfaction in returning, however briefly, to ones "glory days", but some of these guys seem to have a permanent address at that hotel; if the sheer level of self-delusion weren't somewhat amusing, it would just be sad and pathetic.
As for me, well, it was fun while it lasted, and I will probably try to keep contact with a handful of people I ran into, but frankly, I feel much better living in the here-and-now.
Just got back from dropping Jenny off at the Emergency Vet Clinic. She hasn't eaten anything since late Thursday/early Friday, drinking only a bit of water, listless - and most significantly, NOT sleeping next to my head for the last two nights.
The initial diagnosis from the X-Rays is lung cancer, but we'll know more later today when the results from the blood-work, and the radiologist's report comes in. Depending on what those show, I'll have to decide what to do next.
It's going a rough afternoon.
UPDATE:
Both the radiology report and the blood work have come up "inconclusive"; the spots in the X-Ray may be either pneumonia, or, cancer, but there's no way to make a definitive diagnosis without more testing. White blood cell count is elevated, but not dangerously so, and she's anemic and has low potasium levels, which, along with some other things apparantly indicates advanced heart disease.
So, they're running more tests, and should have the results on those before the end of the day. Hopefully, they'll be able to make a better determination regarding the lungs, and based on that, they'll give me a recommendation. If it IS just pneumonia, then it and the heart failure are treatable; if it does in fact turn out to be cancer, then treating the heart disease becomes somewhat moot.
Opening of the Show went off pretty well on Friday, despite getting started fifteen minutes late, which caused a back-up with turning over the house for our monthly late-night cabaret, which itself turned into a near sell-out (it makes things a little crazy, but our Managing Director LOVES it when he does the books!)
So, now I get a bit of a break before jumping into rehearsals for the show I'm directing in September, and of course, there will be production meetings and what-not, so I'm not off Scott-free as it is. Still, the weather seems to be settling into a pleasant late-Summerness, so I guess my timing could have been a lot worse in that regard as well.
It Makes Me Wonder What's Going On Under The Ground
It's "deja-vu - all over again":
Our office was broken into - again - early this morning. Evidently, our "friend" decided to return to pick up where he'd left off.
Fortunately, someone in another office heard him break through my boss' door - again - and came up the hallway to check it out. From what we can tell, the perp heard someone coming, broke through another door into a currently unused office in our suite, then proceeded to break out a window to the street, apparently thinking he'd escape that way. However, we guess the jagged shards of broken glass jutting from the frame discouraged him, so he jetted back out the way he came in, whereupon the building tenant caught up with him.
Unfortunately, the dude pulled a knife, and the tenant, sensibly, let him go. But, at least now the police have a description.
Didn't lose anything - this time - but it's a little frustrating, not to mention disconcerting to say the least.
They Headed Down South And They're Still Running Today
I arrived to work this morning to find a blank copy of a Seattle Police Dept. incident report, along with a card belonging to an SPD office sitting on the counter inside my office, followed shortly by the arrival of the building maintenance manager, who informed me there had been a break-in/burglary in the building over the weekend, and that ours was one of four offices hit. They came in through my boss' door, basically just peeled the door molding off the wall with a crow bar or some-such, then smashed the handle and lock with something heavy enough to cave in the entire door. It's now being held up by a rather sturdy chunk of 4x8 screwed across the entry as a barricade.
The good news is that the burglars didn't cart off every single piece of electronic equipment in the office. The bad news is they did get my boss' laptop, containing roughly three years worth of files; some of these have been backed up, but not everything, so at this point there's no telling how much information has been lost.
They also got my old Palm Zire, but the only thing I was really using that for was to balance my checkbook - still, there was some personal information on it, that I suppose a really dedicated, knowledgeable person could access, if they put their mind to it.
The really disturbing part, though, is that we are supposed to have a reasonably secure building: the new landlord installed electronic locks, which also track who enters the building and when. But, there have been many times I've come in to find the back door propped open, and I've been told of times when visitors to the building have been let in by someone, without them really having any way to know whether the person had legitimate business or not.
So, you know, the lesson here is: security is only worth what you're willing to put into it.
And You Think You're Immune But I Can Sell You Anything
Yesterday, my co-worker forwarded me an e-mail about an upcoming Zig Ziglar event occuring in town next month, adding, "I think this would be a great idea to really get us MOTIVATED!" I got a bit of a chuckle out of that.
Later in the day, she asked my boss if he had seen the e-mail, and what he thought about it.
It was only then I realized she hadn't meant it as a joke.
Fly Me To The Moon And Let Me Play Among The Stars
Happy Moon Day!
Space geek that I am, I brought my DVD of the Apollo 11 moon landing to my rehearsal this afternoon. Considering most of the people in my cast weren't even alive in 1969, I figured it might be - well, educational. But, when someone said, "I wonder why they never showed us this in school", I realized something very important, something that probably applies to much more than just this one, single, highly significant event: kids today, saturated in the all-pervasive media experience that so many take for granted, probably are completely unaware of the many historical events that have actually been recorded for posterity in the age of film and television. There must be literally scores of equally important events that have been recorded, but to which many young people have simply never been exposed: the Hindenburg disaster, Orson Welles "War Of The Worlds" broadcast, FDR's post-Pearl Harbor speech, the Kennedy assassination, Nixon's resignation, the Iran-Contra hearings; and so many other moments that have been captured, but are never seen by any except a few die-hards.
That just seems wrong to me, particularly when the means of transmittting this information, of telling these stories - along with the stories themselves - are right at our fingertips.
Somebody should be pulling together these important moments, packaging them and distributing them - free of charge - to classrooms all over the country, all over the world.
"Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it", or so goes the old saying. But in an age where history not only isn't, but CANNOT be forgotten, what excuse do we have for not showing what's been recorded to those who have never seen it for themselves?
Finished my second round of jury duty in three months (Municipal Court in May, County Superior Court this week) yesterday by almost getting seated for a trial. However, I think my somewhat snarky response to the prosecuting attorney's "hypothetical analogy" during voir dire probably put me on her challenge list, so I was out of the courtroom by 10:30. Unfortunately, they held us in the pool through lunch, only releasing us after we came back from break, so I still ended up spending most of the morning in windowless rooms waiting for something to happen.
Fortunately, my two hour lunch break afforded me time to hit the Northwest's second favorite book store, and also successfully made it all the way through the line at Salumi for one of their yummy prosciutto, goat cheese and fig compote sandwich - plus a pound of meatballs to take home - all definitely worth the 45 minute wait.
By the time they got around to letting us go, it was too late to bother with going back into the office, so I just bussed back up the hill and spent an hour or so sitting in the yard with a book and a glass of iced tea - about as much time as I've managed to be able to spend outside for the past couple of weeks.
Unfortunately, that's going to follow through the weekend, as we begin teching the show this weekend, which means I'll be spending roughly 20 hours inside a dark, warm box helping out the director - it's a light work-load to be sure, but I still have to be there; not that I'm complaining mind you -- well, okay, I AM complaining - just a little.
