Fighting off some sort of bug; started feeling the tell-tale tickle in the throat yesterday, and by the time I got home it had turned into a full-on sore throat. Ended up bagging working on the theatre's monthly late-night cabaret, as it would have involved corralling the audience into a cold, drafty stairwell, which had the potential to turn me into some sort of minor "Typhoid Mary", which didn't sound at all like a good thing to do. First one I've missed in a number of years, but I'm sure the several score of people I didn't breath on would have appreciated it.
Feeling a bit better today, thanks to 14 hours sleep, and a whole lot of Emergency & zinc. Guess I'll take it easy today and see how things progress. Good opportunity to get some guitar practice in, and catch up on some TV shows I haven't seen - thank you, Internets.
Youre A Candle In The Window On A Cold, Dark Winters Night
Occasionally, I am afforded the rare and distinct honor to sit in the booth during our monthly late-night cabaret. This month, I was asked to video-tape the show, to capture some archival footage for submission to our local annual summer arts festival.
Now, it's a small sort of booth; in point of fact not really a "booth" at all, just a platform behind the audience where we cram the light and sound boards, and anyone else who needs to be at the back of the house. This month, we packed in four ops: lights, sound, video, and a still photographer, so it was rather cozy.
But, it's also a lot of fun. We get to make snarky comments about the acts and performers - if justified - some consumption of adult beverages takes place (and due to the cramped nature of our space, this usually involves the luxury of table - er, booth service), and because the whole process is very loose and on-the-fly, we also get to be a little creative in the execution of our various and sundry duties (an example of my, um, "creative videography" can be seen here.)
This month's show was a real peach, and included (among other things): a mock-Bollywood musical production number; a story-teller who consumed an entire six-pack of Rainer Beer in ten-ish minutes; three thirty-second dances; Southern Gothic shadow puppets; a pretentious - and long - dance/art/film piece (much snarkiness ensued); one bona-fidenational celebrity who performed an AMAZING, off-the-cuff, improvisational monologue about the history of our building; the aforementioned Gude/Laurance doing their traditional monthly Gude/Laurance stuff; all topped off with some tag-team smut reading (also a monthly tradition).
Now, one would think the above would be more than sufficient to sate both our aesthetic, not to mention our prurient sensibilities, but one of the advantages of being the last ones out of the theatre on a night like this is that, occasionally, magically - THINGS HAPPEN THAT NO ONE ELSE SEES!
I don't want to get into too much detail, because, well, frankly it would spoil some of the "specialness" of the moment, not to mention slightly embarrass the people involved. Let's just say, it involved an REO Speedwagon song, two slightly tipsy, but nevetheless, unquestionable straight young women, and, um - yeah, I think that's all you really need to know.
Before you start to get any funny ideas (too late, I know), let me just say that the um, "performance" was more suggestive than graphic, and nothing that could even remotely be considered illegal or immoral occured. But still, it was - wow.
We're slowly wringing ourselves out from Monday's record deluge. We were relatively unscathed up here in Sea-town, with some flooding, a few brief power outages and a couple of washed-out roads, although outlying areas were hit a lot harder. I-5 between Centralia & Olympia is still closed, and from the sounds of things will be until the weekend. Still, this is the second time in just slightly more than four years we've broken our one-day rainfall record; thanks to climate change our "hundred year storms" are rapidly becoming something to look forward to on a nearly annual basis.
Thankfully, I live just below the crest of a hill, and most of the houses on block have sufficient yardage to absorb even this considerable amount of precip and runoff; folks down-slope from us weren't so lucky. Also, my basement apartment is quite well sealed, so no worries there. Still, scooting home on "Little Nellie" that evening was an adventure, as there was standing water on the roadway in several places along my route. Good test for the rain gear, which succeeded in keeping my warm and dry for the commute.
Although it's been a relatively slow week all the way around, I've got plenty of things lined up for the weekend: a late-night show tomorrow, a baby shower to attend on Saturday afternooon, followed by an evening at the theatah, then Sunday I'll be shopping for our annual union holiday party on Monday afternoon.
Hopefully, by then our precipitation situation will be more-or-less back to normal.
Tonight is our first public performance in the space. We've hung a few lights (just enough to keep from popping circuit-breakers) and some drapes, wired some sound, painted the stage floor, cleaned the carpets, stocked the consessions, covered over the graffiti, stashed all the loose odds-and-ends out of sight, and told all our friends to stop on by for some late-night celebrating (it also being the 10th Anniversary of our monthly cabaret showcase - tin or pewter gifts greatly accepted). Things are about as super-spiffy as we can manage in the short amount of time we've had to rehabilitate nearly three decades of decay and neglect, and while it's certainly not tip-top (at least by our standards), it is functional - and that's all we need for the moment.
So, 11:00 p.m., 1100 E Pike St., "Under the big 'fighting A'", hope to see you there.
And She's Always Gone Too Long Anytime She Goes Away
Well, summer officially ended about 1:30 this morning with the sudden arrival of thunderbolts and lighting, and lots of rain, synchronistically timed to the end of the Labor Day Weekend. The lightning was bright enough to wake me from a sound sleep, although strangely I can't recall hearing any thunder.
So, now the kids are going back to school, the burners are bedraggledly returning from the playa, the days are becoming noticeably shorter (and darker), the daytime temperatures are starting to creep downward (although we might be in for a bit of a "last gasp" in the mid-70's for the weekend), the leaves are turning color and already dropping to the ground, and the squirrels are busy stashing away as much winter fodder as they can; all signs that Fall is here, regardless of the fact that the official transition is still several weeks away.
Progress on the theatre continues apace. On Sunday we began the process of transitioning the stage from a work/storage area to a performance venue in anticipation of our first public performance this Friday evening. Drapes have been hung; basic lights and sound systems installed; carpets cleaned; the bar/lounge area configured. Much of it is only temporary, since we will need to disassemble anything in the ceiling once we begin the sound mitigation in-earnest, but it's enough to allow performers to be seen and heard, and for audiences to sit and watch.
This weekend also heralded our annual arts fest where I spent the entire day on Saturday. Aside from the plethora of musical acts (most of which I am apparently "too old to recognize"), I did get a chance to see a few friends perform in some theatrical settings, including a great installation piece done in conjunction with a Canadian arts collective, Instant Coffee.
Yesterday was the Annual King County Labor Council Labor Day picnic, which seemed to have a rather light turnout this year, perhaps due in part to the weather forecast (which again, conveniently held off until well after dark), as well as the fact this is an off-year for local elections. Still, it was a pleasant, and relaxing way to spend an afternoon, although I felt a teensy bit quesey for part of the day after having donated blood; mostly it was just a psychosomatic reaction (I HATE - repeat - HATE needles!), in addition, no doubt to the effects of mild dehydration, as well as a proscription against caffeine intake, which always gets my cranky on to a certain extent. Still, every time I go in for a blood draw, it does get a little easier to confront the phobia, and of course the med techs are always top-notch, professional, and reassuring to a fault. Pluse, I had the added bonus of learning that my blood pressure has dropped significantly since my last check-up in March; presumably thanks to my moderate exercise program, I've gone from a BP of 124/82 (considered "High Normal") down to 116/72, which is smack-dab in the middle of "Normal Range", and my resting heart-rate is now 62, down from a previous rate of 70. So, that's all to the good, and I'm hoping my next check-up shows a commensurate decrease in cholesterol levels.
