A non-chronological tale of woe and "whoa".
Part one.
The internet has been out for the last couple days. Then I have been out for a couple days. And by "out", I mean "gay". No, wait. By "out" I mean, I've not been myself the last couple days. After I got my wife back from the Germans, I found myself taking a hard left where I had been going in fast forward for ten days. It's as if I had been racing on the Autobahn and then didn't slow down before I took the exit to my driveway.
Metaphor are like similes which are metaphors.
So, I did six shows in five days and then I stopped. Then I got tired and moody.
Yesterday, I did something with a trolley and a bus, but I can't remember what it was. I've started to realize that unless I write down what I did yesterday, I don't know what I did yesterday. (I've had two relatively serious concussions.) I think yesterday was a nice day, but it ended weirdly...A-ha! I've got it! Yesterday I drove a city tour for some high school kids. Good kids.
Anyway, after work yesterday, I had to get a sound cue all editted and recorded. The editting took a while. My CD burner doesn't work (hasn't for a couple years), the file turned out to be too big to e-mail, people sounded disappointed. I felt like my wife was counting on me to be "present" as a husband (too much to ask?), Scott (http://hotsandwich.blogspot.com) needed a ride to rehearsal, and Angela (and I) needed this sound cue done. It didn't get done. I forgot my guitar. I hosted the "show" for the tech rehearsal and (as usual) I forgot some part of the show. It went awkwardly from my point of view, but luckily, there are some good improvisors in the group. Then afterwards, Angela asked me if I would do an interview with her for a class she's doing. This is the kind of mood I was in: She asked me to tell a happy childhood story. I thought and thought and then I had to admit to her that, while the general vibe of my childhood was happy, I had no specific "happy" memories. Every story had to do with me hurting myself or being sad or being left alone to do something that a five, six or seven year old should never have had time alone to do. Like walking across a highway frequently or dealing with the cable man who had come to disconnect our cable television while I was home alone one night at six years old watching the Bob Newhart Show. I used to brag about all this stuff. Now, in retrospect, it all seems kind of sad. I didn't realize it was sad until recently. Then last night while I was being interviewed, I began to really realize it. Then the interview ended and I went out to my van and said to myself, "Why must I always be alone?"
There you have it folks. My history of aloneness and loneliness has made me good at being the "solo" performer in any given night and not as good at performing with a group. As my report cards always said when I was in school, "Chris does not work well with others." I've had people tell me that my solo comedy shows are "amazing" and that they are where I shine the most and those same people are baffled when I seem saddened or disappointed everytime that is re-established. The thing is, I know how to be alone really well. I just don't like it as much as it looks like I do. So to succeed in that is just to keep digging the same big hole. Or at least that's how I feel sometimes.
Part two: Where things start getting better.
So I went home, got to sleep and woke up in time to do another "out" thing. I worked a day at "Shoreline Cruises" as a greeter. Everybody knows I'm a trolley driver. I'm not fooling anyone. Not even myself. Boring, tiring and totally not "me". Then I found out that, although I thought I was being a "good husband" and thought I was doing the right thing, that my wife didn't ever want me to take an extra job, which is a relief. Because guess what this job is: Me standing alone, yelling at people to come over here and talk to me. I'm quitting soon. Trolley is enough and as those of you out there who have ever been at the helm of the big red fake smile on wheels, it will become more than enough in about three weeks. But being outside all day and taking two free cruises today was good for my spirit. So I got home, had a McFlurry and some chicken wings and finished the sound cue.
Tonight we open "Lick Your Wounds" with the completed opening sound cue, a host with a better head on his neck, and the guitar. Hoping for the best. Originally I didn't think anyone was coming tonight (and that's saying something when you consider that we're a small enough theater that we'll do shows for six people) but I already know of at least six people who are coming. I hope that means there'll be a few that I didn't expect too. As long as we don't outnumber the audience, I feel pretty good.
Part three: The Happy Ending that happened before the beginning.
I know this is already a long blog but now I remember a nice thing from three days ago. Three days ago I drove the double decker for a new tourguide at work as he toured another group of high school kids. Well, it turns out that the tourguide is a man named Nate Herman who used to be a performer and a director with Second City here in Chicago. He's in the Second City book that's out now. He knew Del Close really well before Charna Halpern and Jeff Griggs could lay claim to his legacy. He worked with Jim Belushi. He's been a writer for years and now...he's a double decker tourguide. Does that depress me or make me feel like I must not be doing too bad. Then I find out that the tour group was from a small town in Missouri called Brashear which is ten miles north of Kirksville. Having heard this, I asked them if any of them knew anyone from Kirksville. They said they did. "Do you know Jared Brawner?" (Jared is a kid I babysat from the time he was 2 through 5 in Kansas City and now he lives in Kirksville. He is one of the really happy memories of my late teens. Sweet kid and we had a great time every time I babysat.) Everybody knew Jared. Apparently, he's the star football player at his high school. He's being scouted by colleges and he's really popular in that neck of the woods. I couldn't have been prouder of him when I saw the reactions on everybody's faces.
I haven't seen Jared in 13 years but I'm going to his graduation party (at his request) in two weeks. Sometimes real life means a lot more than all these performances and shows.
I guess that's why I haven't been myself lately. But I'll be back.
The internet has been out for the last couple days. Then I have been out for a couple days. And by "out", I mean "gay". No, wait. By "out" I mean, I've not been myself the last couple days. After I got my wife back from the Germans, I found myself taking a hard left where I had been going in fast forward for ten days. It's as if I had been racing on the Autobahn and then didn't slow down before I took the exit to my driveway.
Metaphor are like similes which are metaphors.
So, I did six shows in five days and then I stopped. Then I got tired and moody.
Yesterday, I did something with a trolley and a bus, but I can't remember what it was. I've started to realize that unless I write down what I did yesterday, I don't know what I did yesterday. (I've had two relatively serious concussions.) I think yesterday was a nice day, but it ended weirdly...A-ha! I've got it! Yesterday I drove a city tour for some high school kids. Good kids.
Anyway, after work yesterday, I had to get a sound cue all editted and recorded. The editting took a while. My CD burner doesn't work (hasn't for a couple years), the file turned out to be too big to e-mail, people sounded disappointed. I felt like my wife was counting on me to be "present" as a husband (too much to ask?), Scott (http://hotsandwich.blogspot.com) needed a ride to rehearsal, and Angela (and I) needed this sound cue done. It didn't get done. I forgot my guitar. I hosted the "show" for the tech rehearsal and (as usual) I forgot some part of the show. It went awkwardly from my point of view, but luckily, there are some good improvisors in the group. Then afterwards, Angela asked me if I would do an interview with her for a class she's doing. This is the kind of mood I was in: She asked me to tell a happy childhood story. I thought and thought and then I had to admit to her that, while the general vibe of my childhood was happy, I had no specific "happy" memories. Every story had to do with me hurting myself or being sad or being left alone to do something that a five, six or seven year old should never have had time alone to do. Like walking across a highway frequently or dealing with the cable man who had come to disconnect our cable television while I was home alone one night at six years old watching the Bob Newhart Show. I used to brag about all this stuff. Now, in retrospect, it all seems kind of sad. I didn't realize it was sad until recently. Then last night while I was being interviewed, I began to really realize it. Then the interview ended and I went out to my van and said to myself, "Why must I always be alone?"
There you have it folks. My history of aloneness and loneliness has made me good at being the "solo" performer in any given night and not as good at performing with a group. As my report cards always said when I was in school, "Chris does not work well with others." I've had people tell me that my solo comedy shows are "amazing" and that they are where I shine the most and those same people are baffled when I seem saddened or disappointed everytime that is re-established. The thing is, I know how to be alone really well. I just don't like it as much as it looks like I do. So to succeed in that is just to keep digging the same big hole. Or at least that's how I feel sometimes.
Part two: Where things start getting better.
So I went home, got to sleep and woke up in time to do another "out" thing. I worked a day at "Shoreline Cruises" as a greeter. Everybody knows I'm a trolley driver. I'm not fooling anyone. Not even myself. Boring, tiring and totally not "me". Then I found out that, although I thought I was being a "good husband" and thought I was doing the right thing, that my wife didn't ever want me to take an extra job, which is a relief. Because guess what this job is: Me standing alone, yelling at people to come over here and talk to me. I'm quitting soon. Trolley is enough and as those of you out there who have ever been at the helm of the big red fake smile on wheels, it will become more than enough in about three weeks. But being outside all day and taking two free cruises today was good for my spirit. So I got home, had a McFlurry and some chicken wings and finished the sound cue.
Tonight we open "Lick Your Wounds" with the completed opening sound cue, a host with a better head on his neck, and the guitar. Hoping for the best. Originally I didn't think anyone was coming tonight (and that's saying something when you consider that we're a small enough theater that we'll do shows for six people) but I already know of at least six people who are coming. I hope that means there'll be a few that I didn't expect too. As long as we don't outnumber the audience, I feel pretty good.
Part three: The Happy Ending that happened before the beginning.
I know this is already a long blog but now I remember a nice thing from three days ago. Three days ago I drove the double decker for a new tourguide at work as he toured another group of high school kids. Well, it turns out that the tourguide is a man named Nate Herman who used to be a performer and a director with Second City here in Chicago. He's in the Second City book that's out now. He knew Del Close really well before Charna Halpern and Jeff Griggs could lay claim to his legacy. He worked with Jim Belushi. He's been a writer for years and now...he's a double decker tourguide. Does that depress me or make me feel like I must not be doing too bad. Then I find out that the tour group was from a small town in Missouri called Brashear which is ten miles north of Kirksville. Having heard this, I asked them if any of them knew anyone from Kirksville. They said they did. "Do you know Jared Brawner?" (Jared is a kid I babysat from the time he was 2 through 5 in Kansas City and now he lives in Kirksville. He is one of the really happy memories of my late teens. Sweet kid and we had a great time every time I babysat.) Everybody knew Jared. Apparently, he's the star football player at his high school. He's being scouted by colleges and he's really popular in that neck of the woods. I couldn't have been prouder of him when I saw the reactions on everybody's faces.
I haven't seen Jared in 13 years but I'm going to his graduation party (at his request) in two weeks. Sometimes real life means a lot more than all these performances and shows.
I guess that's why I haven't been myself lately. But I'll be back.
posted by Churchill at 7:38 PM
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