As has been documented, I am faced with a situation where people that surround me both in my immediate neighborhood and at my workplace don't share my values, and it tends to make me a bit (or more than a bit) cynical and jaded about our culture here in the states at large. Evidence beyond those arenas, however (from popular culture to elections) tends to support my general feeling of dismay. It makes it easy to forget that there is a sizeable contingent of true peers out there in the land (those few readers of The Oliopolis, for the most part, included).
Nevertheless, I am out of the frying pan of UN-belonging and into the fire this evening. We are going to a wedding. You know the kind. Where an old high school friend of a spouse finally hooks up and you are invited either as a result of some grand attempt to recreate the glory of yesteryear or (worse, and often my suspicion) the need to fill out a roster and pack the house. All the best to her and her new husband (who I will be meeting for the first and quite probably last time tonight), but I am dreading the occasion like there is no tomorrow.
How about this for advice to all people looking to plan a wedding: do unto others as you would have them do unto you. I am not kidding. Put yourself in the position of the couple that you are considering inviting and ask yourself honestly (it's really not that hard): if I were in their position, would I want to come? You may end up discovering that you cut your wedding guest list, and thus expenses, by two thirds or more. But sadly, no; not many people are really in the mindset of sparing any expense for themselves, nor any moments of awkwardness for potential witnesses to their special day. And so tonight we will go, desperately, desperately hoping that they are not going to make a vile announcement such as: Since everyone here is so special to us, we've decided to mix and match your seating arrangement so you'll be meeting people you didn't previously know. That might just about be enough to drive my general level of uncomfortability to the point of madness.
But the kicker: they registered for gifts. Consider this for a moment. They are two full-time working adults, approaching the age of 35 (she is, at least-he could be 78 for all I know). Firmly situated within the ranks of the upper middle class. And they registered at Target. Maybe I'm totally misunderstanding the tradition here, but isn't the whole gift-giving thing about helping a newly-married young couple on their feet? A glance at the 12-page (I shit you not, 12 pages) registry, the first two items I saw were a six megapixel digital camera and an eight person tent. Christ, almighty, why not invite 300-plus guests and turn your memorable occasion into a bona-fide haul? There might yet be one or two items on the red shelves at Target that aren't yet on the beige shelves of your five bedroom suburban home. Or at least not in the color you want. Boy, coming from the school of at least aspiring non-consumerist, this really ticked me off. The wedding will be at a Catholic church (you know-the religion where priests take a vow of poverty?). Did they consider-even once-asking guests if, in lieu of gifts, they donate to a charity? I know the answer of course.
Anyway, we got them potholders.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Thok!
I've been doing lunchtime runs, off and on, ever since Big Buy moved into our current, enormous facility four years ago. In all that time, I've never had an occasion where I came up lame mid-run and have had to limp home. That is, until this current week when it's happened twice.
I guess "limp" is a bit of a strong word. I'm pretty sure that versions of Past Dan (circa early to mid 90s) might have tried to gut it out through the injury or pain and finish the circuit. My perspective that has come about as a result of age and experience, however, tells me that a more thoughful consideration of how I treat my body in such instances can only benefit me down the road.
Well, Monday, about a mile into the run, I started feeling a pain behind my kneecap. ALSO coming as a result of age and experience is my knowledge of how minor aches in my body tend to work; and the lesson is "don't freak out." I will often have a little "ting" or "ding" or "ping" in a knee or arch or ankle, or what have you. This may not be very scientific (or it may be quite scientific, but just in a way that is beyond my ability to evaluate in scientific terms), but I simply know that, in 98% of the cases, the pain will disappear later in the run and will certainly be gone the next time I hit the road or trail. The key is "repeatability," which is scientific. If the same pain occurs in the same place two runs in a row, it's worth checking into further. And to date, that's only happened three times, but that's another story. Anyway, the Monday pain didn't appear as though it were the type that would disappear during the run. I didn't freak out, but neither did I attempt to run it off. I just accepted the fact it was going to be a really short run, turned around and walked back.
Today-Monday's pain gone, per formula, and my run was feeling better and better the farther I got. I was flying along a trail at the Wood Lake Nature Center, took my eyes off the path for a split second to look at something that now I can't even recall when....
THOK
Ankle roll. God DAMMIT. There are those out there that know my long and storied history of ankle sprains. As often happens with individuals who have umpteen sprains & turns in their lives, the individual injuries tend to get less severe the more you have them. Not sure if that's because a flimsy ankle is more likely to ease you into an ankle roll (rather than put up a fight before giving way to a sickening "pop"), or if it's just because the victim is more prepared to absorb and partially deflect the initial instance-almost like learning how to "take a fall." In any event, I could have kept running today. I almost did, but then thought "why risk it" and settled in for another leisurely walk back to home base.
Just thinking here...maybe I should hold off on any more runs this week.
I guess "limp" is a bit of a strong word. I'm pretty sure that versions of Past Dan (circa early to mid 90s) might have tried to gut it out through the injury or pain and finish the circuit. My perspective that has come about as a result of age and experience, however, tells me that a more thoughful consideration of how I treat my body in such instances can only benefit me down the road.
Well, Monday, about a mile into the run, I started feeling a pain behind my kneecap. ALSO coming as a result of age and experience is my knowledge of how minor aches in my body tend to work; and the lesson is "don't freak out." I will often have a little "ting" or "ding" or "ping" in a knee or arch or ankle, or what have you. This may not be very scientific (or it may be quite scientific, but just in a way that is beyond my ability to evaluate in scientific terms), but I simply know that, in 98% of the cases, the pain will disappear later in the run and will certainly be gone the next time I hit the road or trail. The key is "repeatability," which is scientific. If the same pain occurs in the same place two runs in a row, it's worth checking into further. And to date, that's only happened three times, but that's another story. Anyway, the Monday pain didn't appear as though it were the type that would disappear during the run. I didn't freak out, but neither did I attempt to run it off. I just accepted the fact it was going to be a really short run, turned around and walked back.
Today-Monday's pain gone, per formula, and my run was feeling better and better the farther I got. I was flying along a trail at the Wood Lake Nature Center, took my eyes off the path for a split second to look at something that now I can't even recall when....
THOK
Ankle roll. God DAMMIT. There are those out there that know my long and storied history of ankle sprains. As often happens with individuals who have umpteen sprains & turns in their lives, the individual injuries tend to get less severe the more you have them. Not sure if that's because a flimsy ankle is more likely to ease you into an ankle roll (rather than put up a fight before giving way to a sickening "pop"), or if it's just because the victim is more prepared to absorb and partially deflect the initial instance-almost like learning how to "take a fall." In any event, I could have kept running today. I almost did, but then thought "why risk it" and settled in for another leisurely walk back to home base.
Just thinking here...maybe I should hold off on any more runs this week.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Hello, What's This?
An instrument setting on my new digital piano, discovered just the other night. "Piano and Strings." Fun to diddle...Ah...the stuff of soundtracks...
http://us.share.geocities.com/hylton44/pianostrings.mp3
http://us.share.geocities.com/hylton44/pianostrings.mp3
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Life Just Got a Little Better
Sharon's grandma left her a small sum of money-just under $1000-when she died. Sharon invested it with the idea that she wanted to grow it (and presumably add to it) until she could buy something that would be a "family legacy," or something that would honor her grandma's memory. Well, the mutual fund totally tanked after 9-11 (lost nearly half its value), and it's taken the last five years for the fund to get back to its original value. Over that time, as expenses have built (mainly expenses related to a growing family) we've become aware that we're not likely to find ourselves in a situation where we're doing much other than living check to check. So this $1000 is not suddenly and/or easily going to turn into $50,000 or $100,000. So...re-evaluate.
Sharon took years and years of piano lessons, growing up. I took a few years and, of course, paino was the first instrument I played as a songwriter. A remarkable, elegant instrument, it is. And now we have an entire family of music lovers with a small potential piano player and another one on the way. With a little encouragement by me, Sharon saw the light and realized that a piano would be a way that we could enrich our lives as a result of the the money her grandma bequeathed us. Well, that money plus a short-lived 403b retirement plan Sharon started investing in at her work. She had accumulated all of about $400 before we decided to both jump onto the back of the retirement investment plan at my work, which includes a matching percentage from Big Buy. So, after taxes, add another $320 to the pot.
Last night, we headed out to make the purchase we had been scoping out for a few weeks: a Yamaha digital piano (the P-140, if it matters to you).
Sharon took years and years of piano lessons, growing up. I took a few years and, of course, paino was the first instrument I played as a songwriter. A remarkable, elegant instrument, it is. And now we have an entire family of music lovers with a small potential piano player and another one on the way. With a little encouragement by me, Sharon saw the light and realized that a piano would be a way that we could enrich our lives as a result of the the money her grandma bequeathed us. Well, that money plus a short-lived 403b retirement plan Sharon started investing in at her work. She had accumulated all of about $400 before we decided to both jump onto the back of the retirement investment plan at my work, which includes a matching percentage from Big Buy. So, after taxes, add another $320 to the pot.
Last night, we headed out to make the purchase we had been scoping out for a few weeks: a Yamaha digital piano (the P-140, if it matters to you).
Digital piano craft (at least in this price range) has increased to the point where the keys are now weighted (like a real piano, so it doesn't feel like you're hitting air, like with your old Casio), graded (the lower keys are heavier), and have hammer action (the keys snap back at you, as they would if they were really striking a string in the soundboard). Add to that the fact the sampling is done from a real grand piano and the net effect is that you're getting an amazing, exceptional instrument that never needs tuned at a very reasonable price. It may not have the all encompassing richness and echo of a real grand piano, but considering a real quality grand piano could cost easily in excess of $25K, it's hard to knock going this route. Especially since the digital route adds a few pratical dimensions such as portability, MIDI functionality (a way to digitally synch up recording), and a headphone jack (so we can play long and loud into the night and not wake Lucy). In short, the piano is frigging awesome.
Sharon really resists most new purchases, simply from a non-consumerist standpoint that I admire and respect and, at least in theory, share. But I remember a statement she once made when we were first dating, "You're never wasting money if you're buying anything music related" and I remind her of it often.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Non-Stop Domestic Excitement
Perhaps it's the "world's my oyster" thrill of being done with the play, but what a weekend!
Sharon hit the sack early with Lucy on Friday night, so I swung out to the coffee shop for a performance of Yo Jimbo Jazz: a jazz quintet with a live sound I can just close my eyes and let carry me. I was so inspired that after the performance I went home and hit the recording studio for the first time in a couple of months (at least). I managed to get a keeper acoustic guitar track for a song I'm recording (a re-recording, actually, from an old "Johnson Street" 4-track) called Not Now, Dan. I bit of a chance I'm taking on this one, but I think the potential is there to really make something substantial.
Saturday kicked off the Daddy-Lucy weekend, as Sharon was working both days. Much fun was had as we headed out for the weekly Saturday morning trip to the coffee shop, then out for errands & a visit to the library, and out for lunch. The real highlight of that day, however, was our 2nd backpack run out at French Regional Park. Lucy in the child-carrier backpack and me trotting along at an exceedingly slow pace over hill and dale. We said, "I don't believe it" when we saw really big hills, "I believe it" for small hills, and "I kind of believe it" when we encountered mid-sized hills. Along the way, we played "who's been here?" with the local phenology & animal signs, and had much laughter & good conversation. I'm not in great running shape, so there was also a really nice break where Lucy got out and ran. And I gotta say-sometimes I'm just blown away by how far Lucy has progressed, physically or mentally, from the last time I stopped to consider one milestone or another. In this particular instance, I couldn't believe how fast the girl was running, and how little her run resembled the "toddler waddle" she used to have. And it was a great joy to see this little girl fly along the trail.
Saturday evening, Sharon's mom came by to watch over Lucy while Sharon & I headed out on a long-overdue date which consisted of swinging by the wildlife rehabilitation center to drop off two critters, a trip by Guitar Center to evaluate a digital piano that we're planning on picking up (possibly tonight-yay!), dinner at Baja Sol, and cribbage at the Freight House while listening to an angst-ridden acoustic-alt rock guitarist Leesa.
The highlight of Sunday afternoon (day two of the daddy-daughter weekend) was a trip out to Silver Lake Beach. Lucy was able to hook her armpits over a little flotation ring and kick her way around the perimeter of the swimming area while Daddy bounced along beside. Great fun, many laughs.
Wonderful weekend, until last night. Dehydration from the French Park run combined with a respiratory assault launched by a 60-year old accumulation of dust & asbestos I stirred up in vaccuuming under our basement steps completely incapacitated me. I had to turn over responsibilities for the girl as soon as she was put to bed, and just crash. Between a constricting feeling in my lungs and a significant headache, I felt like a goner. I was unable to go up to our stuffy upstairs for the night, but just laid down on the couch with the window a/c on in total misery. I had a restless, claustrophobic feeling for at least an hour, with crazy images bordering on hallucination about suffocating running wild through my mind before finally drifting off to sleep. My lung situation still sucks today, and my voice is all ragged, but the headache is gone.
Still a good weekend, all in all. Sorry about the digger at the conclusion, but they can't all have Hollywood endings.
Sharon hit the sack early with Lucy on Friday night, so I swung out to the coffee shop for a performance of Yo Jimbo Jazz: a jazz quintet with a live sound I can just close my eyes and let carry me. I was so inspired that after the performance I went home and hit the recording studio for the first time in a couple of months (at least). I managed to get a keeper acoustic guitar track for a song I'm recording (a re-recording, actually, from an old "Johnson Street" 4-track) called Not Now, Dan. I bit of a chance I'm taking on this one, but I think the potential is there to really make something substantial.
Saturday kicked off the Daddy-Lucy weekend, as Sharon was working both days. Much fun was had as we headed out for the weekly Saturday morning trip to the coffee shop, then out for errands & a visit to the library, and out for lunch. The real highlight of that day, however, was our 2nd backpack run out at French Regional Park. Lucy in the child-carrier backpack and me trotting along at an exceedingly slow pace over hill and dale. We said, "I don't believe it" when we saw really big hills, "I believe it" for small hills, and "I kind of believe it" when we encountered mid-sized hills. Along the way, we played "who's been here?" with the local phenology & animal signs, and had much laughter & good conversation. I'm not in great running shape, so there was also a really nice break where Lucy got out and ran. And I gotta say-sometimes I'm just blown away by how far Lucy has progressed, physically or mentally, from the last time I stopped to consider one milestone or another. In this particular instance, I couldn't believe how fast the girl was running, and how little her run resembled the "toddler waddle" she used to have. And it was a great joy to see this little girl fly along the trail.
Saturday evening, Sharon's mom came by to watch over Lucy while Sharon & I headed out on a long-overdue date which consisted of swinging by the wildlife rehabilitation center to drop off two critters, a trip by Guitar Center to evaluate a digital piano that we're planning on picking up (possibly tonight-yay!), dinner at Baja Sol, and cribbage at the Freight House while listening to an angst-ridden acoustic-alt rock guitarist Leesa.
The highlight of Sunday afternoon (day two of the daddy-daughter weekend) was a trip out to Silver Lake Beach. Lucy was able to hook her armpits over a little flotation ring and kick her way around the perimeter of the swimming area while Daddy bounced along beside. Great fun, many laughs.
Wonderful weekend, until last night. Dehydration from the French Park run combined with a respiratory assault launched by a 60-year old accumulation of dust & asbestos I stirred up in vaccuuming under our basement steps completely incapacitated me. I had to turn over responsibilities for the girl as soon as she was put to bed, and just crash. Between a constricting feeling in my lungs and a significant headache, I felt like a goner. I was unable to go up to our stuffy upstairs for the night, but just laid down on the couch with the window a/c on in total misery. I had a restless, claustrophobic feeling for at least an hour, with crazy images bordering on hallucination about suffocating running wild through my mind before finally drifting off to sleep. My lung situation still sucks today, and my voice is all ragged, but the headache is gone.
Still a good weekend, all in all. Sorry about the digger at the conclusion, but they can't all have Hollywood endings.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Masala Mama, We Meet at Last
Alternate title: Enough Hyperlinks for Ya?
Yesterday we celebrated Fathers' Day a week early, as Sharon will working all day next Sunday. The girls were great to me all day and then treated me to my first trip to the Town Hall Brewery on the University of Minnesota's West Bank. With the exception of a few nights after rehearsal & performance in the past couple of weeks, I don't "go out" much, preferring the comforts and company of my home and family. Where I most miss out, however, is in sampling fine offerings from a number of local breweries & brewpubs.
As a big fan of the exceptionally bitter style of India Pale Ale, I had really been looking forward to trying the Town Hall's Masala Mama, which is among the most highly regarded IPAs in the world (the very highest, in fact, in my BeerAdvocate.com community). This beer did not disappoint-and has now supplanted Goose Island's Honker's Ale as my highest rated beer. Read all about it. I also sampled their West Bank Pub Ale, which I will probably love & review in a future session; however I was already well into my heavily-spiced meal by that time, and the malt character was almost entirely lost on me.
I should also note that I recently tried and LOVED the locally brewed (as in, within about a mile of my home locally brewed) Surly Bender, sharing one off tap with Mighty Tom at nearby Rix Bar & Grill, following Saturday's show. Let me say, this beer is fantastic, complex, and mind-blowing. A bitter brown ale that makes my toes wiggle. But I have yet to get around to the review on this one, so I will say no more at present.
Yesterday we celebrated Fathers' Day a week early, as Sharon will working all day next Sunday. The girls were great to me all day and then treated me to my first trip to the Town Hall Brewery on the University of Minnesota's West Bank. With the exception of a few nights after rehearsal & performance in the past couple of weeks, I don't "go out" much, preferring the comforts and company of my home and family. Where I most miss out, however, is in sampling fine offerings from a number of local breweries & brewpubs.
As a big fan of the exceptionally bitter style of India Pale Ale, I had really been looking forward to trying the Town Hall's Masala Mama, which is among the most highly regarded IPAs in the world (the very highest, in fact, in my BeerAdvocate.com community). This beer did not disappoint-and has now supplanted Goose Island's Honker's Ale as my highest rated beer. Read all about it. I also sampled their West Bank Pub Ale, which I will probably love & review in a future session; however I was already well into my heavily-spiced meal by that time, and the malt character was almost entirely lost on me.
I should also note that I recently tried and LOVED the locally brewed (as in, within about a mile of my home locally brewed) Surly Bender, sharing one off tap with Mighty Tom at nearby Rix Bar & Grill, following Saturday's show. Let me say, this beer is fantastic, complex, and mind-blowing. A bitter brown ale that makes my toes wiggle. But I have yet to get around to the review on this one, so I will say no more at present.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
And Just Like That...
After a short but surprisingly successful four-show run, we are done with The Good Doctor. It was an extremely intense, yet ultimately gratifying period of my life, the time between the inception of the Camden Civic Theatre company and last night's closing show.
I rediscovered the thrill and joy of stage acting and the experience was made all the more rich for the extent to which I am, this time around, willing to immerse myself in understanding and appreciating all aspect of the produection. This includes both the thankless slogging and hard work offstage, and the extent to which a group of performers and talented, creative backstage magicians work together to create a whole which is truly greater than the sum of its parts. I don't think I ever approached truly getting that in my first twenty some-odd plays (basically, everything prior to age 22).
Friday night was so sold out, we ended up squeaking in a total of 90 patrons into a space that was intended to accomodate 60; and still had to turn around 10 folks away. Last night was still a sellout, although considerably less so; and a fair number of "comps" (friends, family, advertisers known to company members) were out there. It made for a particularly friendly and loose crowd, laughing in all the right places and then some. Throughout the entire run of the show, CCT and individual actors have received praise and compliments galore. Not sure how much of it is as a result of exceeding a particularly low expectation of what a Camden-based community theatre could put out there on its first shot, but I believe that the talented group of people involved in this whole production, against a considerably stacked deck (time-wise, budget-wise, and in terms of various other random logistics), put together a production of which I would have been proud to be a part in front of nearly any audience, anywhere.
In the past six months, I've gone from essentially zero to 10 in terms of knowledge of what is required to put on a production (well, more like two to eight or nine). Now, hopefully, we have some infrastructure built in as a company so we're every-so-slightly in a better position, next time around, to hit the ground running. We have some funds (we're way more in the black at the end of this show than we expected, and we've got an outstanding grant application), a few more props, and a few volunteers that are planning on coming back for the next show. I'm hoping a couple of more company members come on board and, for my part, I'm going to try to keep my feet a little less solidly in both camps of planning/preproduction and performing, and try to commit myself to one or the other. But...looking back...wow, a post that was seven months ago seems like it could have been five years ago. In retrospect, I'm so glad I trusted my heart and took a chance!
p.s. special commendation to Mighty Tom, who made the drive from Cottonwood Minnesota and Stephen, who made the drive all the way from Iowa City in order to see me perform. Wow-guys, thanks. I am honored and humbled and I hope you enjoyed the show.
I rediscovered the thrill and joy of stage acting and the experience was made all the more rich for the extent to which I am, this time around, willing to immerse myself in understanding and appreciating all aspect of the produection. This includes both the thankless slogging and hard work offstage, and the extent to which a group of performers and talented, creative backstage magicians work together to create a whole which is truly greater than the sum of its parts. I don't think I ever approached truly getting that in my first twenty some-odd plays (basically, everything prior to age 22).
Friday night was so sold out, we ended up squeaking in a total of 90 patrons into a space that was intended to accomodate 60; and still had to turn around 10 folks away. Last night was still a sellout, although considerably less so; and a fair number of "comps" (friends, family, advertisers known to company members) were out there. It made for a particularly friendly and loose crowd, laughing in all the right places and then some. Throughout the entire run of the show, CCT and individual actors have received praise and compliments galore. Not sure how much of it is as a result of exceeding a particularly low expectation of what a Camden-based community theatre could put out there on its first shot, but I believe that the talented group of people involved in this whole production, against a considerably stacked deck (time-wise, budget-wise, and in terms of various other random logistics), put together a production of which I would have been proud to be a part in front of nearly any audience, anywhere.
In the past six months, I've gone from essentially zero to 10 in terms of knowledge of what is required to put on a production (well, more like two to eight or nine). Now, hopefully, we have some infrastructure built in as a company so we're every-so-slightly in a better position, next time around, to hit the ground running. We have some funds (we're way more in the black at the end of this show than we expected, and we've got an outstanding grant application), a few more props, and a few volunteers that are planning on coming back for the next show. I'm hoping a couple of more company members come on board and, for my part, I'm going to try to keep my feet a little less solidly in both camps of planning/preproduction and performing, and try to commit myself to one or the other. But...looking back...wow, a post that was seven months ago seems like it could have been five years ago. In retrospect, I'm so glad I trusted my heart and took a chance!
p.s. special commendation to Mighty Tom, who made the drive from Cottonwood Minnesota and Stephen, who made the drive all the way from Iowa City in order to see me perform. Wow-guys, thanks. I am honored and humbled and I hope you enjoyed the show.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Sold Out! Goodbye, Tootsie...and the Seeing of Little Chicky
Sorry for infrequency of my posting. Things have continued to be a whirwind, but the pace of life has continued on, unabated.
Sellout:
Of course, foremost in my mind over the past few weeks has been the play. Rather than try to describe in detail in my last post, I just linked to The Good Doctor Blog, which thoroughly discussed the success of opening weekend. We were completely unprepared for the response from our neighborhood and beyond, as the first two nights of the show were completely sold out. That, combined with the audience's enthusiastic response to pre-show remarks our Artistic Director made about bringing live theatre back to Camden was enough to bring tears to my eyes. The love-hate relationship I have with my neighborhood definitely continues. As much as it is in the heart of one of the top cultural cities in US, my greater neighborhood has simply lacked the vibrancy & pulse of a good chunk of the city, for as long as I have lived there. It's always been a "chicken or the egg" situation, but from mediocre support for the neighborhood's short-lived chic neighborhood grocer to utter lack of support for live music at the coffee shop, I was really starting to believe that a pulse and heart was not even there for the reviving.
After all the hours of planning, work, sweat, and emotional investment-the über-success of this inagural production gave me a satisfaction unlike anything I have felt since I finished the Twin Cities marathon. And it probably surpassed that, since the goal was a little more selfless. Can Camden Civic Theatre revitalize Camden single-handedly? Certainly not. But we're not alone. The right people are out there, and I believe we're giving them an opportunity for solidarity, and a chance to come out and prove that they're not the only people around who think there's more to life than to retire into your home every night, pull the shutters down, and curse the boom cars.
So, unbelievably: by Monday we were sold out for both (final) shows this coming weekend. Had we known...had we the slightest inkling that support was going to be this great, we would have scheduled a six or eight show run, or booked an actual theatre space with the knowledge that we'd make enough in tickets to cover the cost. Ah-well...this is the first of many productions, eh? Next step...Is There such a ready made theatre space in the neighborhood? Much scouting to be done this summer.
Goodbye, Tootsie:
Our African Giant Black Millipede (archispirostreptus gigas), Tootsie, has passed. As a member of the largest variety of millipede in the world (about seven inches long), Tootsie had an appearance that would freak out some folks that aren't into such kinds of critters, but she was gentle soul. We aquired her from one of Sharon's co-workers nearly a year ago, when she was already quite advanced in age, and are assuming (and hoping) that it was age, rather than care, that ultimately led her to stop eating and eventually die. She will be missed by all in the immediate family. Boy, we've had to explain death a lot to Lucy in the past year...
The Seeing of Little Chicky:
Our first ultrasound appointment! We got some really good images, one or two of which I might post in the coming days. At 17 weeks old, Little Chicky is about nine inches long and amazingly active. Where fetal Lucy was just reclining and occasionally extending, in a languid manner, an arm or leg, L.C. flips about, flailing, and fights back against the ultrasound instrument that pushes in on the uterus. We could be in for a little spitfire.
Sellout:
Of course, foremost in my mind over the past few weeks has been the play. Rather than try to describe in detail in my last post, I just linked to The Good Doctor Blog, which thoroughly discussed the success of opening weekend. We were completely unprepared for the response from our neighborhood and beyond, as the first two nights of the show were completely sold out. That, combined with the audience's enthusiastic response to pre-show remarks our Artistic Director made about bringing live theatre back to Camden was enough to bring tears to my eyes. The love-hate relationship I have with my neighborhood definitely continues. As much as it is in the heart of one of the top cultural cities in US, my greater neighborhood has simply lacked the vibrancy & pulse of a good chunk of the city, for as long as I have lived there. It's always been a "chicken or the egg" situation, but from mediocre support for the neighborhood's short-lived chic neighborhood grocer to utter lack of support for live music at the coffee shop, I was really starting to believe that a pulse and heart was not even there for the reviving.
After all the hours of planning, work, sweat, and emotional investment-the über-success of this inagural production gave me a satisfaction unlike anything I have felt since I finished the Twin Cities marathon. And it probably surpassed that, since the goal was a little more selfless. Can Camden Civic Theatre revitalize Camden single-handedly? Certainly not. But we're not alone. The right people are out there, and I believe we're giving them an opportunity for solidarity, and a chance to come out and prove that they're not the only people around who think there's more to life than to retire into your home every night, pull the shutters down, and curse the boom cars.
So, unbelievably: by Monday we were sold out for both (final) shows this coming weekend. Had we known...had we the slightest inkling that support was going to be this great, we would have scheduled a six or eight show run, or booked an actual theatre space with the knowledge that we'd make enough in tickets to cover the cost. Ah-well...this is the first of many productions, eh? Next step...Is There such a ready made theatre space in the neighborhood? Much scouting to be done this summer.
Goodbye, Tootsie:
Our African Giant Black Millipede (archispirostreptus gigas), Tootsie, has passed. As a member of the largest variety of millipede in the world (about seven inches long), Tootsie had an appearance that would freak out some folks that aren't into such kinds of critters, but she was gentle soul. We aquired her from one of Sharon's co-workers nearly a year ago, when she was already quite advanced in age, and are assuming (and hoping) that it was age, rather than care, that ultimately led her to stop eating and eventually die. She will be missed by all in the immediate family. Boy, we've had to explain death a lot to Lucy in the past year...The Seeing of Little Chicky:
Our first ultrasound appointment! We got some really good images, one or two of which I might post in the coming days. At 17 weeks old, Little Chicky is about nine inches long and amazingly active. Where fetal Lucy was just reclining and occasionally extending, in a languid manner, an arm or leg, L.C. flips about, flailing, and fights back against the ultrasound instrument that pushes in on the uterus. We could be in for a little spitfire.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Friday, June 02, 2006
The Board is Set. The Pieces Are in Motion.
Well...opening night tonight.
Yesterday, I headed out from work early to see if they needed any last-minute help with adjusting the lighting. As it turns out, we spent about an hour completely confounded as to what to do with the lights, then ended up ripping off the back 1/4 of the stage in order to accomodate a new lighting arrangement. Wow-to say things are coming together at the last minute is an understatement. It's kind of crazy; so much of my experience back at Waterloo Community Playhouse and Blackhawk Children's Theatre was as part of a finely-tuned operation, with full-time staff members, a dedicated space, and an established process for every step of a production.
I can't stress enough how crazy hard it has been to build this from absolute zero. And it would have been a bit different if we had a multi-thousand dollar budget-to rent our own 24/7 space with built in rigging and real backstage areas, do paid advertisements, pay for a fancy set, etc. etc. etc. There are some aspects of this production that are definitely the result of these various challenges. The extent to which we can hide actors offstage is minimal, as is the ability to truly "black out" the stage or do very complex lighting. The advantage we have, I think, is that there is no precedent for us in this community. If we really do bring in people from the neighborhood (which is the goal for a community theatre, right?), there's naught else to which we can be compared; and I think people are going to be a bit forgiving (or even not all that aware) of those aspects of the production that are necessarily rough around the edges. We can set our own standard.
We did manage to have everything ready to go by the time we did our final dress rehearsal last night and, exhausted though some of us intimately involved with the production were, all the pieces were basically there. It felt like we finally had something ready that appeared to be real, live theatre. To almost a performer, this is among, if not the most makeshift production with which they have ever been involved. But it seems to me that people are starting to get over their fears and beginning to realize what a valuable, if crazy, experience this is to have in your resume. Sort of an, "if I can do this, I can do anything" attitude. And there is comaraderie and energy among the cast. Last night we could really feel it as we had our last opportunity to view & support each other in our respective vignettes from an audience's perspective. The fact that these other scenes, each of which we've seen many, many times before, can still get us to laugh bodes well. Nothing to do at this time but perform, and the stressful nerves are turning into excited nerves.
We've got a few reservations for each night, but not a ton. I have no idea what the "night-of" turnout is going to be, but regardless of how many people show up, I'm feeling pretty proud. We've brought a community theatre to a community that needs it, and the people that show up are going to have a good time.
Yesterday, I headed out from work early to see if they needed any last-minute help with adjusting the lighting. As it turns out, we spent about an hour completely confounded as to what to do with the lights, then ended up ripping off the back 1/4 of the stage in order to accomodate a new lighting arrangement. Wow-to say things are coming together at the last minute is an understatement. It's kind of crazy; so much of my experience back at Waterloo Community Playhouse and Blackhawk Children's Theatre was as part of a finely-tuned operation, with full-time staff members, a dedicated space, and an established process for every step of a production.
I can't stress enough how crazy hard it has been to build this from absolute zero. And it would have been a bit different if we had a multi-thousand dollar budget-to rent our own 24/7 space with built in rigging and real backstage areas, do paid advertisements, pay for a fancy set, etc. etc. etc. There are some aspects of this production that are definitely the result of these various challenges. The extent to which we can hide actors offstage is minimal, as is the ability to truly "black out" the stage or do very complex lighting. The advantage we have, I think, is that there is no precedent for us in this community. If we really do bring in people from the neighborhood (which is the goal for a community theatre, right?), there's naught else to which we can be compared; and I think people are going to be a bit forgiving (or even not all that aware) of those aspects of the production that are necessarily rough around the edges. We can set our own standard.
We did manage to have everything ready to go by the time we did our final dress rehearsal last night and, exhausted though some of us intimately involved with the production were, all the pieces were basically there. It felt like we finally had something ready that appeared to be real, live theatre. To almost a performer, this is among, if not the most makeshift production with which they have ever been involved. But it seems to me that people are starting to get over their fears and beginning to realize what a valuable, if crazy, experience this is to have in your resume. Sort of an, "if I can do this, I can do anything" attitude. And there is comaraderie and energy among the cast. Last night we could really feel it as we had our last opportunity to view & support each other in our respective vignettes from an audience's perspective. The fact that these other scenes, each of which we've seen many, many times before, can still get us to laugh bodes well. Nothing to do at this time but perform, and the stressful nerves are turning into excited nerves.
We've got a few reservations for each night, but not a ton. I have no idea what the "night-of" turnout is going to be, but regardless of how many people show up, I'm feeling pretty proud. We've brought a community theatre to a community that needs it, and the people that show up are going to have a good time.
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