2008-11-04 - 7:53 p.m.
Wow. Eight years. Has it really been that long? It's amazing to me how you can pack a lot of living into 8 years, but at the end of it it seems like it was only yesterday a fresh-faced punk kid was sitting at his roommate's computer writing something in the hopes of impressing a girl he liked. My how times change.
Well, that's not entirely true. I'm still a punk, as people go out of their way to remind me frequently.
I'm still fairly fresh faced, although I've noticed I tend to do all my aging around my eyes. I saw an old picture of me the other day when I was going through a desk drawer and it amazed me. Did I really used to look that not tired? Nowadays the bags under my eyes just won't go away, no matter how much I try to sleep them off.
I have some grey hairs, now, too. I'm ok with that though. I am just thankful I still have my hair. Not QUITE as thick as it used to be, but not balding anywhere. I can live with that. The curls still make the ladies swoon, or so I've been told.
The roommate's different, and so's the computer, but at least it's mine (the computer, not the roommate, though technically the roommate is mine in the sense of being "my" roommate and not someone else's, except in paul's case, but I don't bother counting anyone who doesn't know what day thanksgiving is on. The long winded parentheticals are still there too!)
I had thought that the youthful optimism was long gone, too. I somehow managed to hold on after Black Tuesday, 2000 (or as I sometimes refer to it, the 2nd worst day in american history) when I was let down the first time. No, what killed me was Blacker Tuesday 2004 (or as I sometimes refer to it, the most retarded day in american history, when my generation expressed all their anger and resentment at four years of getting jerked around by...NOT showing up to vote in record numbers and meekly allowing the Junta to run this place into the ground for another four years.)
"I was gonna talk some more about the election, but I haven't finished puking blood yet. I will say this, though- anyone who thinks that the way I put other people down for being stupid is unjustified need only look at this as an example of why my low opinion of humanity is entirely justified (New Mexico, i'm looking in your direction). I am not too cynical. I am not too bitter. We all do, in fact, deserve to die in the hopes that something better will come along after us (so stop recycling and start spraying freon into the air). And that's all I have to say about that. So shut up."
So I find it odd that here I am, four years later, clinging to a sliver of hope that maybe we'll collectively decide we have, in fact, had enough, that we will, in fact, actually do something about the way we've been circling the drain, that we are, in fact, going to actually get off our asses and bother voting this time, and that when we do, we will, in fact, make the correct choice, take the correct risk, and that eight years of this crap is more than enough.
I know, silly me, huh? And yes, I am aware that as I write this things are looking good, but then, if there is one thing I have learned (and at times I think there is, in fact, exactly ONE thing that i've learned in the last eight years) it's that it can all come crashing down in seconds.
but hey, either way, here's to another eight years, eh?
Stevie has been going marvellously. I'd like to publicly thank brook for being such a champ and stepping in last minute as our stage manager (as he was the only person who was actually willing to be available for every performance), for doing such a great job of it on such short notice (turning lights on and off is harder than you might think), and for not getting sick of watching the same damn play over and over again.
For those of you who have missed Stevie, or will miss it entirely, don't feel too bad. everybody did. The show gets wonderful, marvellous, rave reviews from every critic in town, the people who come to see it (what the hell is with me and commma splicing tonight, anyway?) all say how much they loved it, how they were laughing heartily until the ending made them cry, what a great poet Stevie Smith was, how wonderful Amber is in the role, how lovable Sally is as the Aunt, how competent and not sucking up the joint I am in all my roles...
and we find ourselves playing to audiences of 15, in a 58 seat house, or we are filling spaces with people Mark comps just to get asses in the seats. Now I know how the cast of Arrested Development felt. I admit, I had my fears at first, too. A memory play about an obscure Brit poet could easily have gotten shat on by everyone who watched it cause they just "didn't get" or, as would be more likely in this area "just don't hold with no book learnin'" (ok, that was kinda cruel. Guess I am as cynical as I thought). Throw in British dialects for all the actors (not to mention that I am playing....a half dozen different people, who each need some kinda voice) that are never in a million years going to get mistake for anything resembling what you'd hear on the bbc and you have a formula that for a show that could just as easily have been taken to the woodshed.
Then the preview audience loved it. Then the show became a critical darling, and every actor got singled out at least twice for being awesome (and we all are) and the set and lighting got praised to the skies, and I thought, "cool, this is going to be a hit like ALmost Maine was...wonder if we'll have to add extra shows..." because this show actually is GOOD. It wil make you laugh, make you think, and maybe make you cry.
Yeah, then I learned what happens when you have a great show and nobody shows up. Fucking Milwaukee. (and yes, I am aware that of the 4 people who might read this, all of you either couldn't come at all but would if you could, or did, or are coming, and for that i am grateful. My anger isn't directed to you at all. I am ranting here about the faceless thousands who read about a great show in the paper that wasn't the same old safe crap that lots of other theatres do and decided they'd rather do something else instead. Fuck you all)
Now, see, that's how you dovetail one theme through two disparate stories. And I had wondered if maybe i'd lost it completely. Turns out I'm just really, really lazy.
SO, this has turned out to be a lot longer than I had anticipated, and right after I had decided to go with short and to the point more often. WE'll see how long that lasts. i'll leave you with one last thought though-
My next show, Tuna Christmas (opening friday the 28th at Soulstice theatre, see me for details) will end with me in a dress, slow dancing with a guy while he grabs my ass.
There. That'll either draw in huge crowds or make people stay way the hell away from that show.
And no, I am still really sure I'm straight.
See you in 4 more years.
Ken
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