2008-03-10 - 9:38 p.m.
The Deacon is here for you, my child.
Long story short, I haven't been writing because there's been nothing good to write about, and I didn't want to do another sad one. My friend Keith passed away a couple weeks ago, and coming on the heels of grandma...it's been a rough couple months, and I didn't really feel like doing yet more angst.
RIP- Keith Tamsett. A great actor and a cool guy.
That's it. NO more morbidity for awhile.
Brian's wedding was awesome, and I do make a fine looking groomsman if i do say so myself. I even caught the garter.
But that's ages ago, too. I have a funny story/rambling tale.
I've been co-stage managing a show called Catholic Schoolgirls (which still has one more weekend and just added another show this coming saturday down at the Boulevard for those looking for something fun to do. Shilling over) It was a fairly last minute deal. THe monday before opening night was the first time I saw the show in its entirety and only the second rehearsal i'd gotten to atend, I've never stage managed before, and I haven't touched a light board or sound setup since I was in college. so there was a lot to learn and very little time to do so. Dress rehearsal was my trial by fire- the primary stage manager couldn't make it as planned, so there i was, left alone to do lights and sound for a show i hadn't seen all the way through yet. I muddled through ok with no major screwups (just a ton of minor ones)
Anyway, the show is about four girls at a catholic elementary/middle school in yonkers in the 60's, and the four nuns who make their lives alternately miserable and confusing. It's a decent piece, and my first time ever stage managing, and also the first time i've worked with an all female cast. The other stage manager has picked up the nickname Father Moynihan after a character referenced frequently in the show but never appearing. When I came on board, I was also given a religious nickname for purposes of the show. I'm Deacon Dillon. The joke got extended when one of the theatre's managers thought about the fact that at the Boulevard, the stage manager can be clearly seen by 3/4 of the audience during the entire performance, as the theatre is too small to have an actual booth for lights and sound. So she thought about it, and got me and the other stage manager collars to wear to the performances to denote our clergical status.
Yep. I wear a collar. Brook took one look at me and his head just about exploded. He asked me how that thing didn't catch fire when i touched it, or why lightning wasn't striking me down. THe director, in the meantime, took one look at me and said, "Wow, that looks really natural on you. Maybe you were really meant to be a deacon."
I'll give all of you a couple minutes to finish belly laughing at the thought of ME as a priest.
Done? No? Ok. Take your time.
Done yet? Geez, it's not THAT funny. I'm not THAT evil. Am I?
The collar has been interesting... I wore it to the bar for drinks after one show and got a lot of very interesting looks from people. What? You've never seen a priest belly up to a bar and order a JD on ice before? Jesse Custer does it all the time.
I also got hit on by a couger at the last show.
"That's a nice collar, Father."
"It's Deacon, actually. DOn't tell anyone, but I'm Episcopalian."
"Oh...so does that mean you don't have to be celibate?"
Good times.
"I shall call him...Mini Me."
Anyway, this same manager has been sewing little presents for everyone in the cast- little plush dolls of them in costume as either schoolgirls or nuns. Saturday night it was my turn, and after the show wrapped I was presented with a six inch stuffed felt doll with hair that's a fair appromixation of mine, a smirk (seriously, do I smirk? I never thought of myself as a smirker) and a black shirt with a white collar. Yep. I have my own voodoo doll of me dressed as a deacon.
Order now, and for only $29.95, you too can have your very own Deacon Dillon to listen to your confessions, offer council, and perform wedding ceremonies!
Even my mom said this was scary when I told her about it. But how many of you have your own doll? My head is swimming with the kinds of mischief I can get into with this thing.
Gary Gygax died, and the gaming geek in me (i.e., all of me) finds this terribly sad, especially as the ignorant moron in me (i.e., all of me) didn't realize he lived in Lake Geneva and was actually encouraging of fans just dropping by to say hi and tell him about the 17th level dwarven thief/paladin with pink legwarmers of speed. I'd totally have stalked him.
But, in a really fun bit of coincidence, I found an autographed copy of another game he'd created, Dangerous Journeys, for only $6 at a used book store. Yes, I have the autograph of the Gawdfather of Gaming, and I plan to rub all my dice on it for luck from now on.
I got something else at that bookstore too, which will be the subject of a very special (boring and unfunny to anyone but me and about 3 other people) entry coming this weekend. You've been warned.
Nate buddy, I chose this song with you in mind, out of about a dozen by Roger Clyne that you'd probably get a huge kick out of. Seriously, you should check him out sometime. Fun drinking songs.
They got married in a honky tonk bar.
They set their vows on a six string steele guitar.
He'd been in love from the moment he saw her.
All them years ago
At the livestock show.
So he's just a rodeo clown.
He ain't much but the biggest damn fool in town.
Now his best man, he couldn't come around.
'Cause he died a month ago
Down in Mexico.
Well, God bless the fools
For breakin' all the rules.
And fightin' over their bar stools.
Gettin' married in a honky tonk bar.
Their honeymoon's in a pickup truck.
He threw some hay in the back so they might stay up all night.
And laugh with the stars in the moonlight.
And all them UFO's and their crazy light shows.
So he left his three legged dog at home.
And let the cows loose they could roam.
We don't know if they'll ever come home
But that's OK you see, we think they outta go free by now.
God bless the fools
For screwin' up all the rules.
And hangin' onto their bar stools.
Gettin' married in a honky tonk bar.
They got married in a honky tonk bar.
They set their vows on a six string steele guitar.
He'd been in love from the moment he saw her.
All them years ago
At the livestock show.
So he's just a rodeo clown.
No, he ain't much, just the biggest damn fool in town.
Now his best man, no he couldn't come around.
'Cause he died hard and slow
Down in Mexico.
Well, God bless us fools
For stumblin all over your rules.
And fallin' off our bar stools.
Gettin' married in a honky tonk bar.
Gettin' married in a honky tonk bar.
�
