Well. I tell you.
Cool, wet Monday morning showing itself outside. Cat asleep on the radiator, Nancy asleep in the bed. Me and my coffee and juice, typing this. Going to the gym for the first time in two weeks as soon as I finish. Now that's going to hurt.
Watching the political talk shows yesterday, before the Big Reading. Smart men and women told me that Bill Clinton's operatic Third Act is going to force Hillary Clinton's long-anticipated Second Act to close early. Interesting.
Great words about Fatboy in Chicago on www.chicagofreepress.com and www.performink.com. I'm just going to pretend that those two outlets are much more important and influential than the Tribune or the Sun-Times. Why not?
So, the Big Reading. We had a few...adjustments we had to make right then and there. Live theater and all that.
Paul Urcioli, my lead, the Clown King Himself, was playing soccer a few hours before the reading. He planted his foot wrong, twisted it or something, and off he goes to the Emergency Room. He's fine, thank god, we won't know the extent of the damage until next week when the swelling goes down and he gets an MRI, but he may have torn his A. C. L., the main ligament that allows your knee to behave like a knee, or it could just be a very bad sprain. (In great synchronicity, there's a big article about the rise in ACL injuries in the Times today.)
So I'm thinking, fine, I can move Ben over to the Clown King and have Emily or Kate or someone do the Boy Clown. But then I'm thinking, that will compromise two roles instead of the one. Hmmm... What to do, what to do?
All of you who know me know what I decided to do, right? Ham that I am, Bottom the Weaver in my soul?
So I'm up there doing the Clown King. Wearing black lipstick, throwing water into Matt Oberg's face, aping and mocking Kurt Rhoads' performance, dragging Matt and Melissa around by a rope. Talk about your meta upon your meta. Second Act is when the Clown King tries to be the Lead and the Director while his Clown Gang is screwing around. And there I am, actual script in hand, telling people to get offstage and to take it from the bit where we do the thing and yelling at them that they're not taking this seriously.
Deeply weird, a lot of fun. And we packed the joint, had to add a row of chairs in front. If anyone reading this was there, I'd love to get some feedback. Learned a lot in the bar after, talking to all of my smart friends. Going to make some major cuts in the first act and clarify the Academics at the end, but probably going to let it sit for a day or two. Much, much business to catch up on.
Our Monday Morning Music Quiz has a gospel flair to it today, praise His Holy Name. I've loved gospel all my life, especially the old-timey stuff. The Swan Silvertones and the Blind Boys of Alabama, that kind of crazy, wailing sound. Gospel, like country, just gets worse and worse the more you produce it. Closer it is to a field, the farther it is from a recording studio, the better it's going to be.
So which of these songs is an actual gospel song and which is just vampiric nonsense?
1. There is a Fountain Filled with Blood
2. Are You Washed in the Blood?
3. O Lord, Give Me Your Blood
4. Power in the Blood
All right, someone get Malta on the phone for me. Let's do some bidness.