Dust Storm

Blah

2009-08-11T08:49:00.001-04:00

Blah blah blah.

Life is blah, sometimes.

And full of blah blah blah.

Just. Sayin'.

Also

2009-08-10T09:25:00.000-04:00

This. Is. Great.

I share:

Inside

2009-08-10T08:58:00.003-04:00

You know, the doctor cleared me of the brain tumor rumor -- telling me that my head was as normal as anyone else's (for whatever small consolation that is.

But for the past week or more, I've had that blistering headache back -- some respite here and there, but mostly unending -- and that strange phantom smell.

Tumor or not, something is going on, and I suppose I need to follow-up with the doctor more.

It scares me a little. Plus, it's expensive.

Ruminations

2009-08-10T08:35:00.003-04:00

A friend -- well, not so much friend as blogger-whom-I-greatly-admire -- recently posted a comment about aging, and assessing the fore and aft of one's life. Her son recently asked her "How's your life working out for you, Mom?"

God, what a question.

How is my life working out for me?

Huh.

I need to ponder that one a while. There are many many things which, to outsiders, would appear gifts. There are accomplishments and fun and art and music and friends.

So why is so much of that shadowed and foggy, hidden behind a gray landscape of burnt castles and twisted pathways leading, all of them, to cliffs?

My Theatre, Then and Now

2009-08-07T09:07:00.002-04:00

I put together a video with clips from some of our past shows at our theatre...along with a very rough rendering of the barn project plans:

We've shown this several times already -- Chamber of Commerce, The Rotary, other movers and shakers in the area.

Project

2009-08-06T08:39:00.012-04:00

So. Last year, when I was out of work, I was driving by an abandoned movie theater, and it started to piss me off. Here I am with my theatre group desperately seeking a new venue, and there's a perfectly fine unused building with seats and box office and marquee already there.

So I called the mayor.

Asked him what would be involved, and what possible support could we expect from the city to secure the theater?

He basically told me that the owner is adamant that he will not sell it, and will not lease it for less than prime dollars (even though, by then, it had already sat there vacant for almost a year, earning the guy zero dollars). The mayor was kind but blunt -- forget it.

But he also said that I should call a woman named Carol. She has a barn she has always wanted to convert to a theatre.

Well. I knew from reputation that this woman was "wacky," a free-spirited creature who believes in angels and souls and a potpourri of new-age rot in which I had less than zero interest. I am always, at best, uncomfortable around such people, and I certainly didn't want to engage in a project like this with her.

Had I been working at the time, I would have chalked it up and written it off and never called.

But the next day, I'm sitting at home, having just finished my job search of the day, and I figured "what the hell?" So I called her, introduced myself, and we agreed to meet.

This is just another example of how being out of work was very much a blessing buried in the burden, because I'm quite certain I'd not have bothered to call her if I'd been busily employed.

She's wonderful. She's kind and bright and not in the least "wacky." Did I mention she's wonderful?

...and we are doing it. We are in the process of launching a huge project -- The Strongsville Center for the Performing Arts....this in the worst economy in 80 years. Our goals are high and difficult and worth it, and I believe in them. And in us.

We have a small team -- just four of us -- along with a larger committee that is helping. We're going to do it. We are.

I can't help smiling at the thought that we are building something that will matter to an entire region -- both economically and artistically -- and that it will be there 100 years from now.

And I will have been a part of it. In fact, I also smile at the fact that I actually get to design my own theatre. How cool is that? I'm the lead on the design committee, and the design looks really great (although we're still iterating through it)....but designing my own theatre? Seriously? Maybe this is what I was born to do....'cause in a way, all the things I've done in my career (project management, fiscally responsible budget control, managing every aspect of a theatrical season (from play-writing to play selection to direction to performance to technical design and direction (lights, set, and sound)) have prepared me for this.

I should re-state some of the above -- by no means is it me that is doing this -- it's US . The group of four are working hard and in harmony.

Together, we are going to pull this off. This impossible dream.

Feel

2009-08-05T08:52:00.003-04:00

I'm posting this for no reason other than it's true:

I'm lonely today. Feeling very very alone and defenseless and unloved and unliked.

Alone.

This will pass -- by tomorrow probably, by the weekend certainly -- but right now, today.....blue is me.

Teds Voice

2009-08-05T08:30:00.003-04:00

I have this sporadic little, very occasionally active voice-over career. Most of what I have done is corporate work -- narrating very boring little powerpoint presentations, phone system menus, that sort of thing....

Anyway, I decided it was time to ramp things up and get a new agent, and I sent my demo to the biggest voice-over agency in the area (and one of the most influential voice-over agencies anywhere). I got a contact immediately from them, and they asked me to audition for them. This is big.

I made my audition, and they want to meet me next week.

Now, none of this means I'll actually get a contract from them, but if I do, that will be a huge boost to my career. It would be so amazing and cool to have some other career door open -- especially now, when I'm feeling particularly ambivalent about the career I'm in....

Wheels

2009-08-04T08:54:00.004-04:00

So.

I've been wanting a convertible for a long time, and what with the piece of junk I was driving careening every closer to the dead-car cliff, I finally decided it was time.

This is the car I bought:

This is on the dealer's lot, of course...I bought it the same night I drove it. It was just...I dunno. The right time, the right car, the right mid-life crisis....

Actually, a lot of people have asked or commented about it being a mid-life crisis purchase, but it's really not. I'm not all that crisisified; and I'm a mite past mid-life anyway. It's really simply more a case that at this point in my life, I can go ahead and get a 2-seater. I'm not driving the kids around any more, I rarely have any passengers at all...and I just deserve (or least tell myself that I do) a fun car to drive.

So. Fun it is!

And I look good in it. Those of you that actually have seen me in it, please don't dispell my illusions about that...

Gettin' A Head

2009-08-03T08:54:00.006-04:00

So.

I mentioned on Friday that I had this possible brain tumor....

It's strange. For years, I've had headaches. Sometimes sort of like a bruise, sometimes like a massive fault line, about ready to drop Tedifornia into the ocean. Just something I had to live with. I've seen doctors about it, and they tut-tutted that it's just a migraine. Just. a. migraine. Often -- but not always -- medication helps, so I didn't worry too too much about it.

Now, for the past few years, I've been smelling this odd smell. Like the smell of burning oil -- sort of organic and oily and icky. The car I was driving -- actually, the last two cars I drove -- were oil burners, and I pretty much chalked it up to that. You know how some kinds of oily smells stick with you, even when you're not around them? I figured it was like that.

Except that I got new wheels (ask me about those sometime!), and the new car doesn't burn oil....but the smell persisted. Odd.

So, I googled one night -- didn't know where to start, so I googled "why do I smell something that isn't there?" I found a medical forum, found that the phenomenon is not unheard of (it's called phantom smell). Googling "phantom smell" found me many forums, and there I learned that phantom smell can be caused by epilepsy (not me) or mental illness (maybe me?) or sinus infection (but not lasting for years). Also on the list -- especially when combined with headaches -- is brain tumor.

Hard words to read. Brain. Tumor. Something growing in the center of what makes me me? Seriously?

So, I set up time with Dr. de Sade, and he said "Yeah, brain tumor is on the list of what can cause that, for sure." He was concerned -- he said he wanted to set up an MRI immediately to check for a tumor.

I was actually pretty convinced it wasn't the case -- but no way to be sure without checking. I wasn't too too freaked out....still, though, it was in my head (no pun intended) constantly.

I didn't really get weirded out about it until the day of -- sitting in the waiting room, waiting to be called in to have my head examined. I felt adrenaline start to build then, electric skin, shallow breathing, all of it.

Anyway. Long story short (if that's even possible at this point): no tumor. No explanation for the headaches and phantom smell (which, by the way, I am smelling right now even as I type this)...but trust me, it's a pretty large-scale relief when you find that you aren't, you know, dying.

Of course, ultimately, we're all dying by degrees anyway, but that's another philosophical cogitation for another day.

The doctor still wants to follow up to look for cancerous polyps in my sinuses, but somehow that just seems infinitely less threatening than being eaten from the inside out, doesn't it?

Man

2009-07-31T08:34:00.008-04:00

's funny. I've been thinking for quite a while about re-starting this thing, this journal, this place which sometimes feels like a shiny mostly-real green space, and sometimes feels like an overgrown back yard in which lie half-concealed tires and a dead kitten or two beneath the thorns and shards....

....but there's just so much to talk about that I'm a little daunted by what to say.

Which is making my brain stutter.

So. I guess there's nothing to it but to start to write, eh?

I guess I need to write about my job, about my car, about my suspected brain tumor (which finally turned out not to be), about my theatre, about my feelings and dark corners and emotional chandeliers....so, a little at a time, I'll try to forge it out.

I guess, to start: I got employed last year (after 7 months of unemployment), and my feeling about that is the very model of schizophrenic passive-aggression....or at least ambivalent ennui. I'm well-paid again, and although my first boss here was certifiably insane, my current boss is a gentleman.

But I'm also in a career I hate in an industry I despise, and at which I'm just not that good....making me a fraud waiting to be discovered. Or at least that's how it feels.

I realized last year that I'm most definitely not one of those whose very being is imbued with their job, who define who they are by what they do. But I'm also one who did not like the feeling of being unemployed and therefore less of a man.

I know, I know, that's just not the case...but my guts thought so.

So now that I'm employed, why do I so miss the days spent riding my bike and cooking good meals and lying in the grass at noon?

Well, okay

2008-05-20T18:07:00.001-04:00

All right, all right. The last comment was an over-reaction and an overstatement.

I just know I'm as far from happy as I know how to be. I would have to be immensely happier to be shitty.

I hate whiners, and I hate to whine. I do.

But this is what is most compellingly in me to say.

Easy Peasy

2008-05-13T20:39:00.002-04:00

I think, lately, that things would be much smoother, easier, more serene for everyone if I just wasn't alive.

Just sayin'.

Man!

2008-03-06T09:36:00.008-05:00

Well. I haven't blogged in a while....reasons soon to be clear.

Last time I checked in, I was ready to go onstage, following a car accident in which my car was totalled. The story since then? Categorize it under "yeesh".

So. In the plus column, I did manage to go onstage that night, managed even to sing despite the fact that every breath felt, quite literally, like a jagged glass shoved into my chest. Went all right, and the show itself was a huge success. Major audience appreciation, and a lot of people praised the fact that I wrote it, wrote all the music, directed it, designed the set, built the set...and even (for one night) performed in it. Man, that sounds insane, now that I look back on it. But it's nice.....it's the biggest thing I've ever done, and it's fulfilling to know that it was so, seemingly, successful.

That's the plus column, pretty much in its entirety.

On that day of the accident, while they were CT scanning me to check for heart contusions, so forth, they discovered enlarged lymph nodes in my lungs. Could be anything, inflamation, anything. Of course, there was also a chance (not a huge chance, but a chance) that it was cancer. So they told me to follow up with my doctor, which I did after the show closed. He was concerned, and scheduled more follow-ups. After numerous visits, a surgery was finally scheduled to remove one of the nodes for a biopsy.

They did it, in early January. They went into my lungs through my throat (leaving an oh-so-attractive 4-inch scar right across my throat (I look like I lost a knife fight with Rambo)). Between the accident and the post-surgery recovery, I spent almost two solid months of deep pain, every time I breathed. And if I had to sneeze? God....you have no idea.

The good news, though....it was not cancer. Simply, they believe, the result of bronchitis I had about a year ago. Sometimes, apparently, bronchitis will inflame the nodes, and they never shrink back down when it's gone. So it was important to check, and good to know I'm healthy...but disturbing, and scary, and a bit painful.

Also, on the 14th of December, one week after the accident (and 4 days after the doctor tells me I might have cancer in my lungs, thank you very much), I lost my job, after 11 years of pretty successful service. I had not been happy in that job for a while, but it was still pretty shocking to suddenly be unemployed. Basically, the owner of the company (who originally hired me) has turned the business over to her kids, and her one daughter decided to eliminate my position. With barely the skills to use a mouse, she has decided she wants to run the Information Services department without me. God bless her, good luck.

Since then, I've been looking, and had some nibbles (and not the good kind, more's the pity), but nothing yet. I have one opportunity that looks pretty good -- third interview tomorrow, but nothing's final yet....and this opportunity would require me to travel 4 days a week, which would kill my theatre work....which would hurt my heart. At this point, though, obviously I will take it without hesitation.

If this does pan out, I will continue to look for a better job. That may end up screwing my new employer, but I'm not so sure, at this point, I am too too invested in the concept of employer/employee loyalty.

I've had a slew (sloo? slough?) of family issues as well, ones I don't feel like discussing just now, just here...suffice it to say that it really is true -- kids will break your heart.

And, just to leaven this lovely pot, last Saturday night, driving to the theatre, some guy slammed into me from behind. Totalling yet another car, and sending me yet again to the hospital. The hospital was precautionary, and I'm perfectly fine. But God, you know? In December, I owned three cars. Since then, I've blown the engine on one (and replaced the engine (not a cheap proposition); replaced the transmission on one (even less cheap), totalled two of them, and now I get to look for a replacement car. While I'm out of work.

Not too too easy to get financing for a car when you're unemployed.

Turns

2007-12-14T09:01:00.000-05:00

So, last weekend was interesting. In the Chinese curse sense.

I mentioned earlier that I had planned on performing for my actor on the second weekend of my show. Well, doing it without rehearsal was daunting, but not insurmountably so. I knew his blocking and entrances, so that didn't faze me. Remembering the lines and the cues was far more disconcerting. I had planned on only working half a day, and was going to gorge myself upon the lines on Friday afternoon. By curtain Friday night, I expected to be pretty much ready.

Things turn.

On the way into work, about 7:00 a.m., my car skidded on a patch of black ice, and slammed into the back of a truck. Mighta been a little better had I not also been speeding, but apparently I was....and on that ice, the car didn't slow down at all. Hit the back of the truck hard . Totalled the car; the air bags went off, pieces and parts flew everywhere.

It was probably quite a show, come to think of it.

I've been in a few accidents before, but this was the only time, as it was happening, that my mind flashed on "Man, I hope I don't get hurt." Actually, if truth be told, it was more a case of "I hope I don't get hurt too bad", 'cause I knew it was gonna be a pretty good crash.

Well, as it turned out, I was lucky. I didn't get hurt at all. At least, not in the sense of breaking anything, or causing any permanent/chronic damage to anything. I did get pretty beat up though -- and a lot of that was from the air bag itself. Those air bags, when they go off, are explosive. I guess I knew that, intellectually, but I'd never been assaulted by one before. Hell, the one on the passenger side of the dashboard blew out the windshield. Yeesh. It's a small stick of dynamite inside 'em, basically. So the air bag itself hurt my chest bad. Still killing me.

I have no doubt I'd have gotten hurt -- maybe way worse -- if not for the air bag, so I'm not complaining about it, but let me say this: Ow.

I also sprained my ankle pretty good, and I have these oh-so-attractive blue-and-purple-and-green bruises all over my body (wanna see?), and many of 'em in odd places (like the inside of my right elbow). I spent most of Friday in the hospital, where I had an EKG to make sure my heart was okay, and a CT scan to check my lungs and heart, and xrays to check my ribs and ankle, and blood tests, and and and yeesh. And as the hours ticked on, my chest hurt more and more, until it hurt (and deeply so) even to breathe.

They gave me some pain meds, but they made me stupid(er), and I didn't like 'em.

As the hours ticked on, of course, so too came closer the 8:00 curtain on my show....and I'm wondering how a non-breathing, drug-addled, limping, unrehearsed line-dropper can even consider going on stage.

Um, sigh

2007-12-06T10:05:00.000-05:00

Yeesh.

My show continues this weekend. Once a show opens, the director is pretty much done. From that point on, the show belongs to the performers and stage manager....but, typically, I like coming to most (or all) of the performances, just to observe. It's fun feeling the audience enjoy something you've directed....and last weekend, I saw 'em all. This weekend, I intended to see 'em all (or most of 'em), too.

Funny how stuff happens.

Just got off the phone with one of my male principals. He's undergoing emergency heart surgery today (and he's a very young man (like, under 30-so-ish)).....so, it appears, I will be going on stage this weekend, having not rehearsed. Ever.

And yes, I know the show, having written it and directed it...but watching and directing is most definitely not the same as rehearsing.

And, well, now this is a show that I wrote, composed, directed, marketed, programmed, and now will perform in. Geez. No wonder I'm tired all the time.

The Curtain Always Rises

2007-12-04T10:36:00.000-05:00

So, my show opened.

Let me tell you, it's a strange, almost out-of-body(ish) experience listening to other people sing music you've written...and even more surreal sitting amongst a large group of strangers listening to people sing music you've written. I like it -- sort of. I hate it, too.

And there's no possible way to be objective about the show at this point. I do know that it went off almost hitch-free on opening night, and then settled into smooth and easy sailing for the rest of the weekend. And I also know that many people told me how much they enjoyed it. Problem is, I never believe them, because they'd have said that to me even if they hated it....so while it's very nice that they say it to me, it doesn't actually touch me like it should.

I'm not, mostly, a cynic; except when it comes to believing anything nice said about me.

But. I also noted this: many people in the audience -- like, lots even -- were crying during the final song I wrote. The whole show is, by design, bittersweet. It's Christmas, and it's a celebration, but it's also life and change and loss and watching our childhood and youth pass away. The last song is intended to pull all the vignettes together, without being cheesily maudlin.

And, judging by the tears, maybe it does just that. So, while I'm not even close to objective about it, I guess it is a successful show.

Well, well, well

2007-11-30T11:16:00.000-05:00

Tonight, my show opens. It's the biggest, most complex thing I've ever done, I think. I wrote the script, wrote all the music and vocal arrangements (15 songs in all), and I directed it....on, I might add, a set that I designed and built. And tonight, an audience sits in judgement.

And...I'm freaking out (but just a little). I mean, if it doesn't work, where does the finger of blame and disappointment point? Right...at the playwright, or the director, or the composer. So, yeah, I'm going to be feeling a bit in the cross-hairs.

On the other hand, if it does work, it'll be a magical wondrous thing....and during the last several rehearsals, it did work. We had a small preview audience last night, and they seemed to enjoy it very much.

It's going to be weird, tonight. I've been working on this literally every night for over six months. The music alone was several months of composing. And I've been tweaking the show and music as we've gone along -- that's part of the nature of a world premiere, I suspect. As of now, though, I'm done. It's in the actor's hands, now.

Anyway, I will say this (at the risk of self-aggrandizement): I'm not sure I know anyone else who could have written a script; composed a fairly complex vocal score; directed the show; and designed the stage (not to mention make the program and design the marketing campaign). God, that sounded pretty "cool cool Ted"ish.....didn't mean it to. But I must say I am pretty proud of the effort and, one hopes, the results.

Mountain Pics

2007-10-12T09:31:00.001-04:00

Oh, I posted the pictures from the mountain climb on Flickr.

They're here. Click "View As Slideshow".

By the way, my daughter is the gorgeous blond one; I'm the (way less than gorgeous) balding, goateed, chubby one....but hey, at least this chubby one made it to the top of a mountain. Not a bad thing, that.

The place was cool -- there are no roads up to the top, so you can only get there by hiking up. The people that live up there get their supplies 3 times a week by llama! There were small (but dry (and (sort of) warm)) cabins at the top, so we didn't have to pack up a tent or sleeping bag, which was nice.

At the end of the hike, on the way down, we saw a couple of large deer -- bucks, with huge antlers -- cavorting in the woods....and at the very end, a small bear.

I love the pictures of the girls at the very end -- they were so spent, they crashed right there, right on the concrete, and slept like, well, babies.

I'm, well, baaa-aack....

2007-10-12T09:13:00.000-04:00

I kind of fell off the blogging bridge for a while -- not that anyone outside of my napping muse would notice. Been awfully busy.

Here's a very abridged list of the things I've done in the past month(ish):

* Climbed a mountain.
* Strugglingly got my legs in shape to climb a mountain.
* Completed (almost) the full length play I'm writing (and none too soon, given that rehearsals begin a week from Monday).
* Completed (almost) all the music I'm composing for said play. The only music left to compose is some incidental music -- scene change music, so forth.
* Held auditions and cast the play.
* Wrote some new software (for a small software business I'm starting). I still need to put together some help files and an installation program, then it'll be ready to market (and I don't think it'll exactly make me enough money to retire on, but I anticipate it bringing me a few hundred dollars a month, which will buy a pizza or two).
* Designed and laid out the program for the current show my theatre is doing (which is more work than it sounds -- easily 14 or 15 hours, anyway).
* Designed the marketing logos for all of our shows of the year (which can be seen at my theatre site . I'm no graphic artist, but I think they work okay.
* Oh, and updated our website to reflect this season. How that got to be my job is anyone's guess -- then again, how most of this crap got to be my job is mystery.
* Worked for a living.

I feel tireder (more tireder?) than it seems that short list should make me, but I know I'm forgetting stuff. Hey, I'm old. I not only forget stuff, but also sometimes I

....ford every stream, so forth...

2007-09-27T07:20:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm off to climb a mountain.

I'm leaving in a few minutes to drive down to Tennessee. I'm staying in a hotel there tonight; and tomorrow morning at sunrise I begin to climb Mt. Leconte. I'll stay at the top of the mountain tomorrow night, then climb down and drive home Saturday.

I can't wait! I'll post pictures and stuff......

Exactly

2007-08-10T09:00:00.000-04:00

I look at Foundmagazine's web site (which is odd and random and fascinating in a voyeuristic and inexplicable way) just about every day. Today's find I quote in its entirety:

I understand how scissors can beat paper, and I get how a rock can beat scissors, but there's no fucking way paper can beat rock. Is paper supposed to magically wrap around rock and leave it immobile? Why the hell can't paper do this to scissors? Screw scissors, why can't paper do this to people? Why aren't sheets of college ruled notebook paper constantly suffocating students as they take notes in class? I'll tell you why, because paper can't beat anybody. A rock would tear that shit up in 2 seconds. When I play rock paper scissors, I always choose rock. Then when somebody claims to have beaten me with their paper, I can punch them in the face with my already clenched fist and say, oh shit, I'm sorry, I thought paper would protect you, you asshole.

Brilliant.

Era

2007-08-08T09:03:00.001-04:00

Barry Bonds broke the all-time home run record last night, to celebration mixed in equal parts with indignation and indifference. Yes, it's the greatest record in sports -- American sports, at least -- and yes, it's tainted with the certainty that he enhanced his performance with steroids, as did a host of other hitters and pitchers.

Tainted, yes.

I heard Peter Gammons (the celebrated baseball commentator) this morning discussing this era in baseball, often referred to as "the steroid era". He brilliantly took a longer and higher view, though.

He described this as the era of "whatever it takes". Yes, exactly so.

Hitters take steroids to improve their bat speed. Pitchers load the ball with illegal substances to change the curve of the ball. Basketball referees throw games, race drivers bump other drivers into the wall.

Politicians gleefully slander other politicians, turning elections into irrelevancy, turning campaigns into meaningless ambiguous platitude on the "vote for me" side, and irrelevant twisting falsehood on the "or, at least don't vote for him" side.

Walmart moves into a neighborhood and uses its size to undercut the prices of competing stores -- even (especially!) those smaller shops that have served their neighborhood for years -- until there is no competition. And, of course, those lower prices are supported on the backs of barely surviving foreign child labor and sweat shops.

You know, I've heard people commenting free agnecy, about when an athlete chases dollars, uprooting his family to move to a different city to mercenarily receive more more millions. The comment most often heard is "You can't blame them. No one would turn down more money if it was offered to them."

Well, I respectfully beg to differ.

Years ago, when I worked for a hospital, times were hard. The hospital was losing money, and probably wasn't going to survive for long. At the end of a year, all of us directors had to tell our employees that there not only would be no pay raises in the next year, but that there would be pay cuts across the board. Everyone employee had to take a small, but measurable, cut in pay (2%). Okay. I get that, as did most of the employees. Then the CEO, in one of our Executive Board meetings, told us directors that we would be receiving our raises in the next paycheck.

Excuse me? Raises? When our employees had to take cuts? Weren't those of us in the decision-making position at least as culpable in the hospital's financial hardship as our employees?

I refused the raise. I wrote my reasons why and gave them directly to the CEO, who accepted it without comment, but he took action, because I didn't get the raise. I'm quite certain I was the only director to do so, but that's not the point. The point is, don't try to tell me that money drives everything, and that the end always justifies the means. I refuse to accept a world in which those are the unbendable tenets.

Changing

2007-07-31T09:48:00.000-04:00

And, to the point of needing a life change, the job search (assuming it doesn't end up a perpetual exercise in soul-scarring, self-esteem-shredding uselessness) will help.

And I've only just started exercising, and watching (better, anyway) what I eat. I know me, and having exercised for about 3 days here does not constitute a lasting change to a healty lifestyle. But it is, one day at a time, infinitely better than sitting on my ample ass.

I have so many things on my plate, though. It's utterly ridiculous. It's been the single most terrible thing in my entire life, yet I've always been like this. Now besides all the life stuff that I needs to do (like house and car repair, working for a living, so forth), I've got to get the marketing campaign(s) together for this season at the theatre. At least I've actually made a good dent in that.

And we need to re-design our web page for the theatre...and guess who's shoulders that falls upon? I've done some cool things with that already, though. I was able to embed a video trailer from our current production into the site (no big deal, that)....and I was also able to embed a google map into the site - fully functional, with zoom and satellite picture and animation and markers and the ability to move the map around....and I was able to create a "get directions" page into the site as well (where you enter your starting location, and it will dynamically create a route for you (with word directions and map) to the theatre. Not exactly ground-breaking coding, but cool nonetheless.

And since I"ve committed to writing the Christmas show we'll be doing (including writing and/or arranging all of the music), that's eating up a lot of my time and thoughts. I can see, now that it's going to be a part of my every single day from now through opening the show in December.

And I have 4 pieces of software that I either need or want to get completed -- they'll be found money, frankly, once I get 'em done.

And I've agreed to put together a web page for a friend of mine. Not a big huge hairy deal, but time-consuming also.

Getting old, and losing my...what are we talkin' about?

2007-07-31T09:35:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was my birthday.

I know I'm about to say something that every single person of age has said throughout the whole history of time...but how the hell did this happen? How did I end up here, like this, having accomplished so little?

More to the point, having accomplished quite literally nothing that I had planned. No novel, no great Broadway play, no song that has become a standard. Nothing that changed the world, and damn little that has changed anyone's life.

And who the hell is that in the mirror?

I wonder, too, how much (if at all) my appearance hurts my job applications. I mean, Computers and Information Technology is a young man's game. 40 is considered old in this industry....and I do not look 40.

So. It may be stupid; and it certainly is vain, but I've taken to (lightly) coloring my hair. The old Grecian Formula crap. Not going for kohl-black; but I just took the edge off the gray. Same with my cheesy goatee. I colored the edge off the gray.

It may be stupid, but at worst it will do no harm....and might help.

I really do need a life-change, though. I really really do.

And on it goes....

2007-07-27T12:13:00.000-04:00

The job search, she go up and she go down. She get you excited, she drop you like a hot spliff.

Er sump'n.

I've got three jobs on the line right now, and the same basic processes seem to roil through every potential employer....namely, they make you take time off your job, make you come in and interview with them, and then somehow manage to forget you're alive. I interviewed for one position a week ago yesterday, and have yet to hear any response at all. Not so very bad....not so very good, either. A week should be enough time to decide if you want to see me again for a second round of interviews.

I interviewed over two weeks ago, too, for a different job. I took a whole day of vacation, drove to Toledo (a full 2.5 hour drive), interviewed at length. I felt it went very well, although I guess I've proven myself lately to be a lousy judge of that . Still.....I'm sure I didn't do anything to monumentally hurt my chances.

Yet, after 17 days, not one word. Not "come back in", not "please forget we exist", nothing. I have NO problem with not getting a job for which I interview. That's the way it works -- by definition, one gets hired and several get turned down. But. BUT! If you take my time, make me come in and personally interview (in the case of the Toledo job, the interview was a full 4 hours or so), you owe me a response. Even a simple eMail telling me you'll not be offering me the position is fine.

Because I came in personally doesn't mean you owe me the job. But I am owed something, and almost none of these guys seem to get it. Pisses me off tremendously. I don't mind the process taking a good bit of time, either. In both of those cases, I interviewed for a senior level board position -- in one case, I interviewed for a Vice Presidency....and that level of position typically takes a long time and a lot of interviews to settle on one candidate. I get that, and it's cool with me. Just let me know what's going on, for God's sake.

I have yet another one next Thursday morning. This company, at least, has been excellent (so far) and keeping me in the loop as to what's going on. Because of that alone, I've decided that if they make me an offer, I'm going to accept it and the hell with these other guys.

No Reason

2007-07-25T12:11:00.000-04:00

Mistah Pot-terr.

2007-07-25T09:05:00.000-04:00

*SPOILER ALERT* *SPOILER ALERT*

For those who haven't yet read "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" but intend to, stop reading NOW.

I mean it! Stop now!

I'll not, probably, reveal any specific spoilers....whether Harry dies; or whether Snape is good or bad; or if Hermione drinks polyjuice and ends up as Margaret Thatcher.....

But if I tell some of my impressions and reactions, I'll certainly reveal at least some of those things, I suspect.

So....you've been warned, if you're still here.

I liked it. Darn near perfect, it was. Darn near! (although, like all her recent stuff, too long by about 20 percent).

You know, I've read a lot of series in my life; and way more often than not, the finale ends up disappointing. Either the author tries too hard to tie up every little thing, to the detriment of the book; or the author re-introduces all the old characters and themes, and it ends up being a "very special" book which is nothing like the predecessors; or it's just a quick dash-off book to get the author off the hook.

In so many cases, anyway, the book has a self-awareness that it's THE FINAL BOOK, and that so often changes everything.

I read the whole "Dark Tower" series by Stephen King. I loved books 1 - 6. By the time he had ended book 7, I was so angry at him that I decided -- and have stuck to it for three years -- never to read anything by Stephen King again. He completely screwed it up, and cheated us readers.

But.....

I think Rowling did a marvelous job. Absolutely wonderful.

She answered everything, tied up everything, and still wrote a true Harry Potter book.

Okay, here come a few specific spoilers after all:

I KNEW Snape was in it with Dumbledore when he killed him, although I didn't imagine why.

I thought Rowling was making a mistake veering off into all the Dumbledore history -- I thought it was going to be too much to add to the series to be able to tie everything up -- but it turns out that all of that was vital...not only to the story line, but to Harry's continuing growth. I think he needed to see that Dumbledore, too, was human....and for Dumbledore to tell Harry that Harry was a better man than he, well, imagine what that meant to Harry!

In the epilogue, Harry tells his son that Snape was the bravest man he ever met!!! Whoda seen that coming?

I can't believe how much I loved this book.

Dad, final

2007-07-24T10:08:00.000-04:00

So.

As recounted earlier, my dad was dying of cancer. I was living with my parents, while my family lived in Dayton, 4 hours away, trying to sell our house.

And watching this proud vital man reduced to someone who required me -- me, of all inadequate people! -- to help him with the most simple of tasks was tearing me up. Each day became harder than the last, until I felt I was at the very end of my frayed string. Each night, I went to bed convinced I couldn't, emotionally, handle one more day.

But each morning, I woke up and figured "okay, one more. I think I can make it through one more." And so I did...but daily, I would cry to the heavens for my house to sell so my family could come join me so I wouldn't have to do this anymore. I couldn't just leave him, you see, but if my house sold and my family moved up to Cleveland, I'd move into that house.

Interestingly, though, after a while, that feeling started to subside. One late night, submerged in the deepening darkness of a sleepless 3:00 a.m., it occured to me: maybe my house hadn't sold for exactly this reason. If the house sold, I'd not be able to be there for him. Maybe -- just maybe -- I was meant to be there for him.

Call it God. Call it fate. Call it whatever you want. All I know is that once I decided I was meant to take care of him, I realized that all would be well eventually. Once I decided simply to pay attention to his needs, it got much easier for me. Not easy , certainly, but easier.

So. I stayed with him, did whatever I could for him, and stopped worrying about the sale of my house.

Finally, on a bright sunny September 23rd, he died. At about 9:00 a.m.

At 3:00 p.m. that same day, my house sold.

That very same day.

Feet up; backside down

2007-07-23T10:13:00.001-04:00

I stayed in line Friday night -- yes, I do have that nerd gene pretty full formed -- and got my copy of the new Harry Potter. Received it about 2:00 a.m. I then made the executive decision that I wasn't going to do much of anything over the weekend.

A goal I brilliantly and (almost) fully accomplished.

I did spend maybe 15 minutes weeding; and I accidentally cooked supper one night...but otherwise, I simply relished the gorgeous weather and read (most of) "Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows".

You know, I started reading the series because my son Michael had developed an interest, and I wanted to be able to talk it over with him. And, while I liked the first three books, I wouldn't have continued with them had it not been for Michael.

Somewhere around book 4, though, it started to get genuinely interesting. The new-found complexity in all the characters and the growing darkness appealed to me. I still think Rowling is not so very good at writing relationships, but she's wonderful at creating a fully-formed and completely consistent world....and she generates the best names since Dickens. Now, I'm the first to read, and the rest of the family can read it at their leisure. I'm enjoying them just for me.

So. I'm about 500 pages into the 750ish pages of it, and I've managed (so far) to avoid finding out anything about the ending. I figure I'll finish the book by mid-week at the worst. In the meantime, I'm trying to avoid any place or conversation that might contain intentional or unintentional spoilers.

Stuff and nonsense

2007-07-23T09:57:00.000-04:00

So. The stupid Christmas show closed. One of my theatre friends came to see it, and she assured me it wasn't the worst show she had ever seen. When pressed, she admitted that she had once been forced to watch a follies put on by some PTA dads, and that show had set the bar for "worst show ever"....and according to her, that show had set the bar pretty high.

On the other hand, she did also admit that my show was second-worst, and that it wasn't that far off the pace. It's good, one would suppose, to be memorable......

But, like all things, one can always learn from any commitment. I had never played a role like this before, and I learned a lot about sustaining this particular character....and I also had fun learning exactly when to slot fully into the audience's expectations for the role, and when to surprise them.

So. Am I glad I did it? Well, no, not in the big "cost/reward" picture....but it wasn't a total waste, either.

Plus: I learned early on that the single most consistent trait this director had was to -- efficiently and ubiquitously -- waste my time at rehearsal. So, since I'm in the process of writing an adaptation (with several original compositions) of "A Child's Christmas in Wales" for production in December, I used that time to get a lot done on that show.

I'll blog more on that show soon -- it's becoming a very interesting process.

We opened!

2007-07-20T08:32:00.000-04:00

I haven't, um, been overly active on this blog in the last month or so. By that, of course, I mean, I've been silent ~~but deadly~~. Or at least silent. Been a mite busy, though, so there's some -- not a lot, but some -- reason for it.

The (oh-so-stupid) play I'm in opened last night. Surprisingly, it came off about as good as it could have, which is better (by hectares!) than I would have ever predicted. It still wasn't, you know, in any way "good". But it managed to bubble up from suckhood through embarassing and almost all the way to merely forgettable. Not a bad improvement, all things considered.

I'm playing Santa Claus. Never played an icon before, and it's daunting. I had a bit of a hard time finding the right voice for him....I mean, everyone has their idea of Santa, and he typically booms the basso profundo "Ho ho ho!" and "Merrrrrry Christmas!" But how does one deliver a whole show in voice like that?

I finally settled on a more gnomish, old-sounding voice which would break into the stereotypical monomaniacal boom only when shouting "Merry Chistmas", et al. Feels like it works. More importantly -- to me, anyway -- it's a voice I can sustain. I'd not be able to do icon-Santa for a whole two acts.

After the show, as I was wending my way to the Green Room, a small child -- maybe 4 or 5 -- came up to me and hugged me around my knees. It was so sweet; and it told me that it must not have been >that< far off.

Spam

2007-06-13T10:00:00.000-04:00

Just catching up on some of my spam, and I have some questions.

Isn't "Viagra Soft Tabs" an oxymoron?

Should I even consider a stock tip sent to me by "Mature Slut Greasy"?

Isn't "Christian Women Who Want To Do You" just inherently wrong?

Should I refinance my home with an organization that misspells "refinance"?

Should I forward to all my friends a message whose subject is "I bedminster leflors" or "it jenkinsville those milton"?

Admittedly, I am flattered that a host of russian women are interested in me, but isn't it curious that Evgenia, Lutvinka, Tatians, and Nadia all refer to me as "dear friend", and are all interested in "meeting the man of income and breeding, who is family and merry"?

Given the quantity of porn that pretty much arrives daily in my inbox, why would I actually pay for it?

Why do I send messages to myself, offering myself a deal on replica watches?

How does anyone get anything done on eMail anymore?

Cleverish

2007-06-07T10:03:00.000-04:00

Though this blog is more journal than public blog, and though it's (far) more intended for myself than anyone else, one can't help being aware that others do pop in, now and again, and read one's thoughts.

So.

How to be clever today, when I'm (barely) neural? How to be interesting and literate for that sparse but not-nonexistent audience?

Poetry?

There once was a man from Nantucket.....

Mebbe not.

A haiku?

Tapping upon my keyboard
the smell of boring
permeates my cubicle.

Well, I don't actually have a cubicle, but the structure of haiku, so forth, temporarily cyberly placed me in one.

How 'bout porn?

He placed his quivering hand upon her thigh, his eyes greedily taking in her goodies. She smiled at him, and offered him what he so desperately desired. As he placed his hot mouth upon it, the taste of hot, wet roast beef filled his senses. It was a hell of a sandwich.

P'raps one should not write porn on an empty stomach.

Then how about an HNT?

The world is an infinitely better place when I keep my actual clothes on; but I was thinking of posting a snippet of a performance -- me singing "The Quest (The Impossible Dream)" from "Man of La Mancha". The quality (especially the sound) of this ain't great, but it is what it is. I, personally, can't even watch it -- I've learned from (bitter) experience that seeing a performance of mine ruins it in my memory, since I always judge it with mondo harshiosity. Still, it's me, it's what I did, and I'm posting it, I think.

Posting this -- and I'm still deciding, even as I type this -- is at least as scary as posting any picture of myself could possibly be -- and, frankly, WAY more naked.

(brief pause)

Okay. I did it. I uploaded the scene to YouTube, and if I do this properly, the embedded video should appear below:

God, is this ever scary!

Iconic me?

2007-06-06T11:31:00.000-04:00

Well, we've begun rehearsals of this Christmas show I'm doing. I've never played a part like Santa Claus before.

Interesting, by the way, that the author misspelled Santa's name consistently throughout the play....not sure what, if anything, that tells you.

Well, having begun the rehearsal process, it might not be that bad of a show. In fact, it'll be fine; and moderately entertaining. The only thing is that there's nothing special about it....it's not really different from 143,000 other Christmas shows....excepting the one thing: as Santa, my first 4 lines in the show are simply loud, resonant, lingering belches.

I've got those lines, at least, memorized already.

The biggest concern is that this show will be, I'm afraid, woefully under-rehearsed. I think I'll be fine -- I've done enough shows by now that I kinda know my way around the stage. Remains to be seen how the rest of the cast is, though.

As I said, I've never played an iconic part before -- basically, everyone has an idea of how Santa should look and sound, and I daren't vary too far from that....and yet, I don't want to let myself slide into Santa caricature.

By the way, is it too much "method" if I let myself gain a ton of weight in the next several weeks? I"m already growing a (very unattractive) beard for the part.

Why do I agree to these things?

2007-06-04T10:10:00.000-04:00

God.

I -- under much peer pressure and duress -- agreed to play the part of Santa Claus in a Christmas play to open in July.

Yep. Christmas. In July. I suppose that may tell you all you need to know about it.

Actually, it's a world premiere of a Christmas show, and the idea is to attract theatres to produce it in December, so it's showing now....so it's not quite as dumb as it sounds.

Still, though, it's going to be amazingly under-rehearsed. Our first rehearsal is tonight, so I'll have a much better feel for how good the rest of the cast is after the read-through.

As for my role, I'm playing a Santa that mostly lounges on the couch, watching TV and burping. It'll be a hell of a stretch for me, but I suspect I"m up to that challenge, anyway.....

Yet More Dad

2007-06-01T11:07:00.001-04:00

So.

The doctor wanted to regularly check my dad after the accident -- after all, being in his 70's and having busted himself up on a motorcycle seems to demand some attention. It was on one of his normal follow-up visits when the doctor noticed a "spot" on the x-ray.

Yup.

It was bone cancer -- one of the most painful forms of cancer (and one of the most difficult to treat). His pelvis was riddled with it, and he had other areas that were starting to show metastasization. The doctor was not optimistic, right from the start. He told my dad that remission from this type of cancer with this much advancement was rare.

"But not unheard of?" my dad asked.

"No, not unheard of."

That was all my dad needed to hear. He underwent all the standard protocols -- the chemo and radiation, so forth -- and got all the standard effects -- the hair loss, the nausea, so forth. Complaints from him? None.

Well, one. He (frequently) pointed out that he now, finally, had less hair than his son. Of course, he also pointed out that his would grow back, whereas mine was a vaguely fond memory.

Now, the backstory to all this is this: in between his accident and the appearance of the cancer, I had moved back from Dayton to Cleveland (about 4 hours away). Until our Dayton house sold, though, my sister was kind enough to let me stay at her place while my family stayed in Dayton. As soon as our house sold down there (which we hoped would be very quick), I'd get a house in Cleveland and my family would move up to be with me.

Well, that process dragged and dragged. The economy in Dayton was pitty; and there was not much market for a large (and somewhat unusual) home. What had looked to be a short stay with my sister became an extended stay.

Anyway. When the cancer appeared, and he began to weaken a bit, I moved from my sister's to my parent's. It was a win-win -- rather than being a burden to my uncomplaining sister, I was able to be a help to my parents.

Of course, I was not prepared for all that....I had no training, of course....and I also was not prepared for the emotional bruise of watching my father -- who had never been sick in my memory -- become progessively more dependent. Oh, trust me, it was a privilege to be able to help him....but it was also painfully difficult.

I went through a miasma of emotions; and I finally reached the point where I didn't think I could take it any more....

On

2007-05-31T13:14:00.001-04:00

So, life is settled, a bit.

The show is over, lots of things are over, some happiness is over. Some sadness, too.

I'm still hot on the trail of a new job, and while that path has chilled a bit, I remain optimistic. And the weather is gorgeous lately, so there's that.

And.....by tomorrow, I expect to be me again.

Just sayin'.

Wondering....

2007-05-29T11:23:00.000-04:00

I don't consider myself monumentally moody.....so I wonder what it is in me that, occasionally, just lands face down in the blues....unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to do much except wonder what to do about being face down in the blues.

And, after contemplating it, I usually conclude that the only thing to be done is to wallow.

So. That said:

I feel just fine today. Music and laughter and sweet ice cream.

My dad, continued.....

2007-05-24T09:52:00.001-04:00

So, my father was a biker and a curious mind and a guy with more juice at 70 than most people have at 25....which is why he was riding his motorcycle in Kentucky one fine summer day.

Two-lane country road; he was travelling with a bunch of friends, doing maybe 50 MPH. Coming the other direction was an older guy and his wife riding their bike. The older guy was waving and smiling at all the guys in my dad's caravan, and never actually looked up to see that there was a truck stopped in the road in front of him.

The guy slammed into the truck and his motorcycle flipped in front of my dad's. Those who saw it say my dad never had a moment to react -- he never even touched his brakes. The bikes slammed together, and my dad went flying. At 50 MPH.

Good thing he was wearing his helmet, or he'da undoubtedly been killed. As it was, he broke his left wrist in three places, and broke his collarbone...and most damaging, he basically shattered his pelvis. When I saw him in the hospital E.R. (before they had done anything except dose him with morphine for the pain), he was pretty broken up.....besides the inhuman angle of his legs and left arm, he was covered with cuts and scrapes and blood.

First words out of his mouth when he saw me? "Hey, Ted! Good to see you. How're you doing?"

How am I doing.

Anyway....he underwent many operations; spent some time in a wheelchair, and then almost a year with a walker, then a tripod cane. Didn't slow him down nearly as much as you might think, though....and I never, not once, heard him complain about the pain or the inconvenience of it all. 'bout the only thing he would occasionally mutter is that he wished his left foot worked better, so he could use the shifter on the new motorcycle he intended to get.

Hard guy to keep down; and a couple of broken bones sure wasn't going to do it.

When he developed bone cancer in his pelvis, though, that was a different story.......

Broken

2007-05-23T08:27:00.000-04:00

Mackenzie didn't come home last night. My 15-year-old daughter didn't think she could face being at home with her mother, so she stayed at a friend's house.

I don't know why their relationship has to be so bad. It seems that neither one of them can budge when they are convinced they are right -- and they are always convinced they are right.

Mackenzie and I are having dinner together tonight, just the two of us. I have no idea if I can make her see that yes, Mom screwed up....but yes, Mackenzie screwed up, too. I want her to come home tonight, but she might still need another day away (which I, in some ways, understand).

It's all breaking my heart.

On the other hand....

2007-05-22T10:53:00.001-04:00

Don't have teenage daughters.

Consider yourself warned.......

Cast

2007-05-22T10:49:00.001-04:00

The other thing that was most pleasant about the show was how well the cast interacted with each other and with me. Genuinely nice people, who (almost) always utilized their talent to the betterment of the show (and not for their own personal aggrandizement). I liked them. I liked them a lot.

They liked each other.

Such an easy concept to say, but one so rarely encountered when dealing with performer's egos.

I'd like to think I had a bit to do with it (I tried my hardest to make the whole rehearsal process as stress-free as possible), but mostly it's simply a result of being lucky enough to have a talented cast who gets it.

I miss them already.

Last week was a very bluesy week for me, with the show's ending. I don't usually get too too sentimental over show's end -- in fact, I usually love the "clean, blank slate" of looking ahead to the next show -- but this one I'll miss for a bit.

Man

2007-05-22T10:42:00.000-04:00

So much to catch up on......

Let's start with the show. Most theatres struggle financially, and consider any show that breaks even to be an unqualified financial success. My show cleared $5,000.....not exactly a king's ransomly sum, but not hay, either. So....frankly, by every conceivable measure (audience reaction; actor/diva satisfaction; reviews; box office.....) the show succeeded.

That makes me happy.

The thing that makes me most happy, of course, is how well the show itself actually worked. Directing can be an unusual experience, in that you never exactly get the immediate (or post-immediate) feedback that actors get. Rarely does anyone recognize the work required to make the show itself seem and feel effortless. That said, there were a kabillion moments in this show that were mine and mine alone, and they (almost) all worked, and were received grandly. Hearing the audience laugh or react aurally (and visually (and viscerally)) to your idea is every bit as satisfying for the director sitting in the back of the theatre as it is for the actor languishing in it.

Sooooo.....I know that sounded and felt like bragging (probably, um, because it pretty much was), but I wanted to report on my feelings.

So......

2007-05-11T16:55:00.000-04:00

The show opened last weekend. I have a lot of stories about it -- and I'll try to post (at least some of) 'em within the next few days....

....but the bottom line is this: it opened to raves, standing ovations, and sparkling reviews. Not a bad thing, that. Not a bad thing at all....

I'm exhausted, but cloud-9'ing, all at once.

My Dad

2007-03-16T14:59:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking about this post for a little while, and I think I'll tell this story across a few posts.

My father was a very cool guy. Not perfect -- who the heck is? -- but cool. When he died (and this is getting a little ahead of the story), the funeral home was packed, as was the service itself. I've never seen that many people at a funeral, but then I've known few that were as liked as he was.

One of the brightest guys I've known, although thanks to World War II, he never went to college. Frankly, he probably wouldn't have gone anyway....he was a guy for figuring things out for himself. He was brilliant mechanically -- take a car apart blindfolded, so forth (one of the (many) reasons I probably disappointed him -- I can barely change a wiper blade, and only do so when I absolutely can't see through the smeary glass at all ); but he was more than that. He loved to learn, loved to prowl museums or read about things that interested him.

At the age of 63, when most people of any generation (much less the raised-during-the-depression generation) have shut down the learning center in their brains, my dad decided to teach himself computer programming. Not simply using a word processor or handling a mouse -- designing and writing computer programs. And so, being the guy he was, he did. He wrote programs in BASIC, and they may not have been exactly "Vista", but they were functional and they worked. And he taught himself.

He bought himself his first motorcycle at the age of 60 or so, and of course quickly became a beloved member of a motorcycle touring group. He called them his "gang", but they really did become his friends, and he went on rallies with them. What he did, whatever he did, he did with passion and full-out joy.

Which is why he didn't simply ride his bike to the store or on a 15 mile jaunt through the parkway...he toured the country. Ohio, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Indiana, Kentucky....which is where he crashed his bike in 1996......

Getcher Updates.....

2007-03-16T12:52:00.000-04:00

The show began rehearsal this week....not a bad -- in fact, in most ways, an auspicious -- start. This is a talented cast. They can sing, they can act, they take direction very well and seem to trust me....and they bring their own bits and energy and synergy to the process in a remarkable way.

So far, things are just clicking on all cylinders (mixed metaphor though that may be (as the bicycle said to the fish)).

Couple of concerns, though....I still need two more men to fill out the chorus, and I'm not entirely sure where we're gonna get 'em. We're not behind the eight ball about it, yet, but I'd really love to put that concern to rest.

Here's the bigger bother, though....

I cast a young lady named Ashley in the role of the minstrel (a man's part), and she's wonderful....and she has a remarkable voice. Really amazing. The show opens with the minstrel, alone, singing a lovely solo while three dancers move in the shadows behind her....really a wonderful opening, and what sells it so completely is her voice and talent.

So, of course, the other shoe always seems to drop.

She just found out on Wednesday that she may -- she may! -- have to bow out of the production. She has to attend some stupid Bachfest on our opening night (and the night after). Obviously, I can't have her miss those dates....and she may not be able to get out of the Bachthing.....and jeez, I dont even like Bach. Neither did his children.

So.....in the first place, if we would have to replace her it will be a challenge to get anyone even competent in the role. More to the immediate point, though, it will be almost impossible to recreate the lovely opening we were going to have. It was going to be so incredibly nice -- the audience woulda been sucked in from the very get-go.

Still, maybe she'll be able to work it out -- I'm not optimistic, but it's not a for-sure loss yet.....so I'm just holding and choosing not to think about it yet.

'tweren't easy

2007-03-06T07:46:00.000-05:00

We finished auditions last night. Very difficult -- I had way more powerful and talented women than I had good parts....which means I'm going to offer some pretty small parts to some pretty excellent singers and actors. I wouldn't blame them a bit -- not one bit -- if they turn them down.....but if they accept them, I'm going to have an excellent cast.

The worst is that one of my best friends auditioned, and she read and sang dazzlingly well, yet I'm only offering her a small part, too. I hope she accepts it, though...she's so good, and it would be such an enjoyable experience to work with her.

I'm not going to worry, though....what will be is what, you know, will be. At the risk of sounding like Doris Day.

I'm still, of course, hearing that little voice reminding me of how inadequate I am, how foolish I am to take on a task of this magnitude with my minimal talent, so forth.

That voice will subside once (or soon after) rehearsals begin (next Monday), but it's barking now.

I won't let that voice actually echo, though.....

...probably.

2007-03-02T12:32:00.000-05:00

Auditions for "Once Upon a Mattress" are this Sunday and Monday. There's a part of me -- that nasty troll that sits on my shoulder and reminds me constantly of how inadequate I am and how self-overrated I can be -- that is feeling great trepidation about directing this show. What if I can't find the right actors? What if the right actors show up, but I cast badly? What if I am terribly short on new clever ideas, and all the ideas I've aready formulated are pedestrian and cliched and and and not clever?

I'm not at all sure I can put together a good rehearsal schedule, even...I mean, how much time is the proper amount for each of the scenes? How much music rehearsal; dance rehearsal; acting rehearsals should I schedule? And how much time is the right amount between repeating scene rehearsals?

It's (mostly) performer's anxiety, but at this moment I have, well, close-to-zero confidence that I can actually do this right; pull this off.

And I had hoped to finish both of the next passes on my novel before beginning rehearsals, but that ain't gonna happen. Still, at least the novel is progressing, and I will (try to) keep it moving even as rehearsals progress.

Apace

2007-02-27T09:48:00.000-05:00

"Apace" is a great word. Just sayin'.

Work on my novel continues apace -- not quite as quick as I had hoped, but moving at least. I've been rewriting dialogue, and I'm finding that -- mostly - -the dialogue isn't that bad. What I am finding, though, is that often dialogue is missing.

Characters move a bit two quickly from one thought to the next, sometimes, and conversations are sometimes abbreviated.....I find what I most need to do with dialogue is let the scene breathe....let it find its life.

Still, I'm about 1/3 of the way through it -- more than that, actually -- so progress is progress.

Monday Night

2007-02-27T08:13:00.000-05:00

Well, last night I went to the play reading committee meeting for the theatre. I spent several years on the committee, and it's a very tough (satisfying, but tough) job. You need to balance determining what kind of theatre you want to be with what kind of theatre you can be (because of your home audience, and core of actors, and technical capabilities, so forth); you need to balance shows you do "for your soul" with shows you do for box office; and (no small feat) you need to set aside your hat as an actor or a director and make sure you choose shows that will be good for the theatre, not shows that you want to star in or direct. Plus, we tried -- with some success -- to never capitulate to the siren song of simply doing popular shows that we don't like. We tried -- always! -- to do shows that were actually quality scripts.

Plus -- also no small task -- it's nice if you can present a season that, taken as a whole, is something you're proud to present to the public. This current season,we went with a "classics" theme -- presenting the original, classic "Dracula", followed by "The Importance of Being Earnest", and finishing with "Once Upon a Mattress" (which, while maybe an inch deep, truly and deservedly is a classic of musical theatre).

After having served for several years, it was time for fresh blood, so I wasn't going to be on it this year. But....it kind of came to my attention that they were meeting (sporadically), and had gotten exactly nowhere. So I was asked to maybe be on it again, and I was glad to help....and, essentially, we were starting from zero. They were looking at a few plays; a mish-mosh of shows that no one knew, a themeless season, and no general plan or even direction for progressing. I did NOT want to just take it over; that's not why I agreed to serve....but I felt I could give them some direction and a process (or at least describe for them the process we had used for a long time, which may not be the only way to do it but which worked for us).

Anyway.....

We made progress. We've -- more or less -- established a framework for the season (drama or straight play; comedy; musical), with the possibility of sneaking in a small Christmas show (like, f'r example, "A Child's Christmas in Wales"). We are going to look hard at the possibility of doing Shakespeare in the fall (a hyooge leap for us (scary and exhilerating to attempt)); followed by a mainstream comedy (like maybe Woody Allen's "Don't Drink The Water"); followed by a more mainstream musical (although maybe not quite so mainstream, provided we can find the right marketing hook for whatever we choose). Don't know what the "theme" for that hodgepodge is, but at least it's a start.

And at least we've got an umbrella under which to focus.

's Fine

2007-02-24T09:39:00.000-05:00

Well, after all the worry about the technical stuff, and about the box office, and trying to get the program done on time, last night's opening was a rousing success. It's always more than a little scary when doing a classic show like "The Importance of Being Earnest"....while it's not exactly avant garde theatre, it's also not the usual safe theatre route. It's not Neil Simon and Agatha Christie and Rogers & Hammerstein. It's a true literary classic.....and thus, scary.

When I got there -- at 6:20 -- the parking lots -- all of 'em! -- were already near full. I parked way over at the church parking lot. Strongsville was playing Brunswick in basketball (a huge rivalry), and the cars were still streaming in. I honestly figured that the few people that were going to come anyway would simply cruise through the lot, find no place to park, and leave. I honestly thought we might play to about 2 people in the audience.

But we had over half a house, which is not bad at all.
And I ran the sound for act I; Chris ran it for the second and third acts (a very easy task). He feels confident in running sound tonight, and Patrick should run it Sunday with no problem.....

So, um, yay.

Man......

2007-02-23T08:51:00.000-05:00

I am not Joe Moody; I am not one -- I don't think! -- who walks around pissing in other's gardens.

But God, am I in a black mood. Not angry, no.....just tired and lonely and worthless and blah.

Partly (maybe mostly) because of the job thing, but knowing the (probable) cause doesn't lift the ceiling, you know.

Blah.

Well, hell

2007-02-22T08:51:00.000-05:00

That job? That job that was looking so promising?

Feh.

Utterly coincidentally, my brother-in-law works at the company. When I found out that the opportunity was at his place, he and I sat down (over, you know, a brew (or, you know, two)) and talked about what that would mean if I got the position. I know -- to my bones - -that he and I would work very well together, and the relationship would be a monumental non-issue. In fact, I have zero doubt that we would be brilliant together. I thought about not even mentioning it to them....

But, in the interest of integrity, I told them about it. Didn't seem to be an issue with the H.R. people with whom I dealt, but the owner of the company has "set the resume aside" because of it. Damn.

True, the resume was only "set aside"; but I know they're interviewing others. And, frankly, unless the other candidates just blow, they'll hire one of them over me.

Damn.

I am so down right now.....really lost my squash over this. Not a good thing, that.

Less Whine

2007-02-19T12:15:00.000-05:00

My last post was a bit over-whiney, I suppose....and a bit unfair.

There are others in the theatre who do a ton of stuff, and can be relied upon to always handle their jobs with alacrity, efficiency, creativity and timeliness.

Problem is there aren't enough of those people, and when any of them tries to take a break, however small, it seems the many (but manageable) tasks just get ignored. Frustrating, that.

But God bless Marcia, and Char, and Linda....the theatre would absolutely collapse without them.

Sigh

2007-02-19T11:30:00.000-05:00

So, I headed over to the theater this weekend.

Mind you, this is a show for which I was going to do nothing (or nothingish, at least). I made the posters; and have almost finished doing the program (which is still a good 30 - 40 hours of work) (so "nothingish" is, I suppose, relative). I also needed to take some cast pictures for a lobby display, but not a big deal, that. So my (relatively) small part of the process is complete (or will be final-tweaked with tons of time to spare).

The show opens this Friday....so I expected to see all the the other details mostly completed (or close). That's what I expected.

But the set is not done, the lights are not focused or even designed. Even though the show calls for specific sound cues (and we usually play a nice selection of pre-show, intermission, and post-show music), no one has even thought about a sound design, or how to technically get it done.

And. And. And the lighting guy is not going to be there on Wednesday (final dress), Thursday (preview performance), or the Sunday matinee performance.....and it doesn't appear that they have any kind of plan. Actually, I honestly think their plan was to wait for me to show up and do it.

Sounds egotistical, but I do think that was the plan.

So. I could leave them to their own devices (which I should do), or I can re-arrange my schedule so I can run lights on Wednesday, Thursday, and Sunday.

Of course, rearranging and filling is what I"ll do.

AND I'll pull together a sound design and set up the mixer for them. It won't be the most brilliant sound design, I'm sure, but it will suffice.

But man oh man...can NO one manage the details of any process????

Enough, already....

2007-02-14T11:15:00.000-05:00

We had a fairly easy December, and most of January. Nothing wrong with that.

So, is there some cosmic scale that requires soft Januaries to be succeeded by freezing sucky Februaries? It's been so cold -- single digits (or less) for, like, three weeks....and the snow storm that continues to pelt us feels a bit like meteorological saxons storming our weakening gates.

Took me almost 15 minutes to get my car out of my driveway this morning. Took me 3 hours to drive home last night....the drive in today was easier, but stil lasted almost 90 minutes.

Man, in some earlier life, I musta been a baaaad guy. Murderer. Terrorist. Game show host. Somethin' bad, to deserve this.

Wheels

2007-02-13T11:09:00.000-05:00

I really hate cars. I don't take good care of them -- partly from, you know, the "hating them" thing -- and I'm not interested in defining myself through my wheels.

That said, I spend a lot of time in my car. My drive to work takes between 50 and 75 minutes each way. I do indulge my brain in audiobooks, which helps. Still, a couple or three hours a day of being surround by idiots who drive worse than me (and hey, I bet I'm the only guy on the road who thinks that) can be dauntingly sucky. To quote the bard.

I have a ten-year-old Volvo which is really pretty nice, and is a nice drive. It's also, you know, ten years old, which means it breaks a lot. Which makes me drive my 12 year old Subaru. Which is, frankly, a reliable, safe, piece of shit. It's meant for someone shorter than me....by the time I get out of it, my knees feel like Gumby in the freezer. Bend at your own risk.

It'd be nice to get this new job -- which is looking good, but moving sloooowly, damn it to hell -- and the (presumed) incumbent raise. The drive will be much shorter (more like 20 to 25 minutes), and I can afford a better car to do it in.

(heh heh he said "do it" heh heh)

Anyway. So much is dependent upon things changing....and I'm ready.

Rodents Lie

2007-02-13T11:04:00.000-05:00

I hate groundhogs.

And winter.

But mostly groundhogs.

Air and Words

2007-02-12T08:07:00.000-05:00

Well, this stupid cold is probably morphing into bronchitis (mayhaps it has been bronchitis all along, and I'm too rock-like to know). I can't really catch my breath well, and when I cough (which is far too often), my head feels a bit as if Muhammed Ali was sparring in there.

I may have to break down and see a doctor.

And yet...I still maintain I never get sick. In the face of this evidence, that might be kind of a dumb comment, but it's still how I feel. And I think that a doctor will say "Take these expensive drugs, so you can be better in a week. If you don't, it may well last 7 days."

So I'm giving it another day(ish) to improve on its own.

I didn't work on the novel much over the weekend, although yesterday I had a pretty good session with it. The dialogue re-write is moving apace, although I sure don't have a feel even yet as to whether it's any good or not. I guarantee I'm not Elmore Leonard when it comes to dialogue. On the other hand, who is?

I've started researching agents already. It might be a bit premature, but I want to have my potential literary agent(s) lined up for when the book is ready to send out....and it will get there. I'm now confident in that.

Sad?

2007-02-08T12:56:00.000-05:00

I was listening to some morning drive-time radio doofus this morning, and he was talking about Tommy Tutone. Remember that band? They did the catchy (and eminently singalongable) song "Jenny (867-5309)".

Guy's real name is Tommy Heath, and he's a computer geek now. He still plays musical gigs, once in a while....sometimes at 80's reunion shows, sometimes even at weddings.

Anyway, this radio doof was talking (and mocking and laughing) about that, and finally concluded that Tommy Heath has a "sad, sad life."

Why? Because he's not right now on top of the charts? There are lots of us out here, computer geeks and bolt salesmen and eyeglass grinders, who have never charted a song we wrote. Many of us augment our daily lives by making music, and usually don't get paid for that at all. Do we have even sadder lives?

I saw an interview with Tommy Heath, and he seems pretty damn well-adjusted. He had a blast making music, he has a blast performing still, and recognizes that he got to do something -- even if but briefly -- that millions upon millions only dream of.

Sounds like a happy life, to me.

What is unhappy is some people's needs to like their own lives by mocking others, whether deserved or not.

Upward Bound

2007-02-07T11:49:00.000-05:00

The temperature is significantly warmer than it's been....which means that when I was gassing up the Tedmobile this morning, I only froze my tits, instead of both nuts.

That's consolation.

I haven't touched my novel in the past 2 days -- decided to give myself a break on it -- but I don't want to let "a break" become "immovable fat-guy inertia"....so tonight, I start at page 1 with dialogue reworking. I have no idea how fast that will go, but I bet I can re-write a lot of pages a day. We'll see.

I hope so, because the mondo busy time is rushing at me headlong, all of a sudden, and I really want to be in decent shape by the first week in March. Not too long away, that.

Last night I scoped out the new office of my (potential) new job. It's pretty close to downtown. I've never worked in an actual downtown environment -- I think it'll be kind of fun, while (probably) frustrating and, well, urban.

The job, if they offer and if I accept (and I bet they do and I do), is going to be a challenge, and difficult. That's not an all bad thing. I haven't been challenged in a while.

Ow

2007-02-06T10:54:00.000-05:00

I just burned the hell out of my mouth. For some reason, the coffee at the machine right outside my office, which is always (usually) a pleasant, drinkable temperature, is magma today.

Life lesson: never drink molten rock.

Movement

2007-02-06T10:36:00.000-05:00

I had a job interview this morning....went very well, I think. Well, in fact I know it did.

Interviews are tough. Luckily, I can fling it with the best of 'em. By the end of the thing, they actually had me pegged as smart and personable.

You know what they say -- sincerity is the most important trait. Once you learn to fake that, you're golden.

I Hate Canada

2007-02-05T11:24:00.000-05:00

Man, it's cold here.

I want to contemplate and write about and engender discussion over the economy and the state of the arts in English literature; and seek new recipes for alfredo or rangoon or mulled cider; and learn piano or watercolor painting or mixing stains for fine hardwoods....

....but damn, it's cold here.

Every time my stuttering brain begins on any interesting path, all I have to do is glance out the window (or let myself feel how freakin' numb my fingers are), and all I can properly consider is burning my desk.

Taa Freakin' Daa!

2007-02-03T08:29:00.000-05:00

I did it. I finished the novel. It is now officially de-sucked.

Much still to do, and I still honestly have less than zero clue if it's actually any damn good.....

....but it's de-sucked. It's the first of my New Year's steps to resolution....and yes, I'm excited about it.

And proud.

TGI, you know, F

2007-02-02T09:04:00.000-05:00

's been a long week.

I caught myself a cold. It's not the worst in the world, but it's not exactly fun. The thing is this: I never get sick. It's been, probably, 3 years since I've had a cold. I've only had the flu once in my entire life. I do get headaches -- that's my particular unwelliosity -- but I don't, generally, get colds or contagious stuff.

Probably because no self-respecting bug would take up residence in this particular meaty habisphere.

And even though I'm tired -- and thank the good Lord himself for coffee! -- I can't seem to sleep.

Feh.

Update:
I have 10 pages to go on the update of my novel. I can't wait to finish this pass, because completing this re-write will be the moment at which I've completed a book that's not completely and hideously unreadable. I'd like to finish it by Sunday night, so that Monday I can plunge right into rewriting dialogue.

The next step is to turn "not hideously unreadable" into "almost acceptable".

Easy Monday

2007-01-30T10:42:00.000-05:00

Did very little last night, besides cook dinner, organize my office (a little), and work on my novel (a little). Felt good to chill some. Watched "24", which was not their best episode, but still was a good hour of television.

I really only watch a few shows -- about 3 hours(ish) a week. I watch "24", and "Heroes" (on tape); and "My Name is Earl" and "The Office". That's pretty much it.

I'm hoping to do very little tonight, too. Good to have a plan.

Successing....

2007-01-29T12:11:00.000-05:00

I am feeling good, though, about the stupid novel.

I finished the re-write on the last important chapter last night. All that's left to re-write is a short ending chapter and an epilogue. Combined, they're about 20 pages or so.....at the rate I've been working, they might be done this week.

Then I'm going to do the following:

1) Start from page 1, and polish/re-write all the dialogue.

2) Re-incorporate some nice writing that I pulled out. There were whole sections of the book that didn't work, and I yanked 'em...but there were some paragraphs/lines/descriptions in there that are worthy of a spot in the book, so I'm gonna incorporate them.

3) Read the whole thing as a whole, without red-lining anything....just to feel the book holistically.

4) Read and red-line it on paper.

5) Incorporate all the red-lines; do any other re-writing necessary.....

6) Send it to an agent.

Here's the thing...most of these steps aren't that daunting, individually. I really think I can have it completed by summer at the worst (although once I start directing the play, things will slow down a bit). Still, I'm optimistic.

Stuff on Stuff

2007-01-29T11:59:00.000-05:00

Man.

Busy busy.

Talk about the highs and lows of parenting....this weekend, I had occasion (and reason) to look at my daughter's MySpace profile. On the profile, she listed me as her best friend...and she had a picture of the two of us, with the caption "I just love my dad". From a 15-year-old girl, this is amazing. To still care for me and admit as much to everyone is diamond-rare.

Made me (and makes me) feel pretty special.

On the other hand -- and why the hell does there always have to be another hand? -- the reason we were looking at her profile was to check on her, because on Friday night we caught her in a pre-planned and egregious lie. She slept over at Hannah's. Saturday morning, we called over there to talk to her, and Hannah's mom said "Um, they're sleeping at your place....aren't they?"

Turns out they spun a story to both sets of parents, and they spent the night at a boy's house. Now, I don't actually think they did anything, per se -- sex or drugs or alcohol -- but I don't know anything for sure.

I told her (and it was my soul's truth) that I wasn't even angry. Just disappointed. Very, very disappointed.

Gettin' There

2007-01-17T08:58:00.000-05:00

I've been diligently working on my novel. It's going well.....I'm coming up on the two final chapters (both vitally important); and the epilogue (which I am quite certain is pretty bad -- I remember that I thought it wasn't very good even as I was writing it). I suspect the going will be a lot slower in the coming days, but if I keep head down and brain hot on it, I should still get it done no problem.

And actually, the clock is ticking on it, because come the first Sunday in March, I'm going to be directing a play. That will take 8 solid weeks of every single night work -- especially since I'm also designing and building the set. So it behooves me (which sounds faintly bovine, but ain't) to get the thing done (or at least as far done as is practical) by the end of February. So far, so good on that.

Last night I only got about a page and a half done, but at least I did something on it. Considering the heat of the migraine I was cooking up, that's not too bad.

Ummm...brr?

2007-01-16T10:48:00.001-05:00

Last night, I started the lawn mower and leaf blower and let 'em both run all night. Same with all three of my cars. Tonight I'm going to burn all the plastic I can find.

Bring on global warming, I say.

Authorizing

2007-01-15T08:23:00.000-05:00

I've been really focusing on my novel, and the re-write is continuing apace. My goal is to work on it every single day, and while I haven't quite made that, I've been close, and it's really moving. I'm pretty sure -- actually, I'm quite certain -- that I will finish with this pass of the re-write by the end of February. Probably, frankly, much sooner than that.

Then I'm going to immediately plunge into the next pass. I'm afraid -- hell, I know -- that if I allow myself a little break when this pass is complete, I'll probably just laze myself into another ignore-it stupor.

It's been interesting the past several pages, though: the writing doesn't suck. At least in my opinion.

I have noticed two tendencies as a writer, though, which I hope to correct in the re-write (and in any subsequent writing). I tend to run long in sentences, but short in transitions. I'm not a guy who likes to write (or read) long descriptions of the room, the clothing, the radio in the background, so forth. But often, instead of a phrase like "He noticed her sad face", I will write something like "He noticed her sad and unmoored face". When I'm writing something like that, I like the idea of that image. When I'm reading it, though, it reads exactly like what it is -- the overwrought prose of a guy who likes images like that. So most of this re-write has been to identify and cut the fat (while still trying to keep the imagery that does work).

The other bad (horrible) habit I have is not to let the scene breathe. Sometimes I find myself leaping from the beginning of a scene to the transition; and from the apex to the ending, without letting the reader walk with me. I don't like chubby, drawn-out scenes, but sometimes you simply have to let the dough rise, you know?

Anyway, here's the point. I have written a novel that sucks. I am now taking that novel and, one hopes, making it not suck. And that pleases me.

It is Monday, after all

2007-01-15T08:17:00.000-05:00

Outside my window, it looks like the inside of a dog -- it's ridiculously dark. And wet.

It feels like it's been raining for a month. It hasn't, I don't suppose, but it feels like it. There's been a real surfeit of sunshine lately. This must be what it feels like to be reincarnated as a grayscale printer -- life running the full gamut from, um, gray to slate.

And -- yay -- the rain (which has utterly saturated the ground, and has swollen the rivers to their breaking point) is going to change to freezing rain and snow for the drive home tonight. Yay.

's probably gonna take me 2 hours to get home.

Thumbscrews

2007-01-10T08:51:00.000-05:00

My daughter has to take final exams next Monday. She's never taken finals before. I've promised to help her study, which I've been doing the past 3 nights.

She is going to fail spectacularly....which is, certainly, a failure on my part, too.

She has this tendency -- this terrible, self-destructive tendency -- to completely shut her brain down when she doesn't get something. Which not only kills her chance to actually comprehend it, it causes her to stop remembering and applying what she already knows. She checks out, and studying and learning are done.

I don't know what to do with her. I've already promised her that if she flunks those finals, her internet, her digital camera, and her cell phone will be taken away. I don't want to keep harping on that, for fear of freaking her out and scaring her worse, but I also want her to know I'm serious about it. I don't want to "parent via threat", but I also want her to feel an incentive to succeed that she doesn't normally feel.

So I don't know how it's going to turn out, but I do NOT feel good about it.

The thing is this: she's almost exactly like me, in a lot of ways. I was a very good student, because it all came easily to me. I was mostly A's with some B's throughout High School and most of college...and, honestly, I don't think I spent more than a few minutes TOTAL studying. I did my homework and I listened (more or less) in class, but I didn't study or even review the material outside of class. Didn't need to. This will sound like boasting (although it's not meant to), but I have no doubt whatsoever that with the teensiest amount of effort, I could have gotten straight A's....in fact, I honestly believe that, had I actually cared about pushing myself (instead of bopping around like the ultimately lazybones that I am) I could have gotten every single question right throughout my educational career. Yet, I didn't...because it didn't much matter to me. I never wanted to fail, but I never had any kind of drive to be above-the-crowd-successful, either.

That same tendency has, usually, sabotaged me at work, too. I know I could be much better at my career, but I never was much interested. Sad and (somewhat) embarassing to admit, but wholly true.

The way in which she resembles me is that I, too, avoid those things that are hard for me. I pretend they don't even exist, and I let 'em fester until they're beyond hope and help. So I understand exactly what her brain is doing; and if she's like me on the inside, the pressure and stress of this is eating her up inside even while she doesn't show it. I feel for her. I do.

Yet I need to find a way to motivate her to get beyond this, so she doesn't end up with so much regret in her life (like I have).

Feh.

That's Two

2007-01-04T09:07:00.000-05:00

I won't count down each day that I actually work on my novel -- that would be weird and annoying. Not that I have anything against "weird and annoying" -- just ask my kids.

But I did work on my novel last night -- re-wrote 4 pages. They weren't very good to begin with, but they weren't quite so excremental as some of the earlier pages, so that made the job easier.

Yesterday was fairly productive (and semi-enjoyable), actually. Released a major system enhancement during the day, which went smoothly and was very well received. In the evening, I worked on my novel, wrote some music, took my family out to dinner, looked at the moon through my telescope, and finished reading the book I was working on. The only thing I didn't do (that I meant to) was take the dog for a walk. Luckily, she's a dog, so she has the memory of a, well, dog....so she didn't yell at me too much about it.

I'm going geocaching at lunch. There's a cache near work in a cemetery, and I want to find it. Yeah, I'm so a nerd.

That's One

2007-01-03T09:25:00.000-05:00

I want my novel in the hands of a publisher this year. That'll require, first, the complete re-write that is in process (it's a first pass re-write whose sole purpose is to de-suck the thing).

The novel is about 400 pages long; and as of yesterday, I had completed 250 pages of desuckifying. Re-writing is infinitely faster than writing, though (especially since it mostly consists of taking crap out, as opposed to creatively generating new crap). I can do, give or take, 4 or 5 pages of re-write in an evening. At that rate -- if I actually keep my lazy ass in gear -- I can finish in a couple of months, tops.

That would be awesome, just to have a workable, largely decrapped draft.

That will be awesome, 'cause I'm gonna do it (he said, with only the slightest tinge of irony coloring his words). Last night I got through 6 pages. My goal is to force myself to touch it every single day. That's how I got it written in the first place -- working on it every single day. I did it then; I can do it now.

The next trick is to make sure I keep my whole goal in sight, and not to set a goal of only a first pass re-write. I will need -- at a minimum -- to rework it twice. After the de-icking process, I want to go through the entire thing concentrating solely on dialogue. I hate poorly written dialogue.

After the dialogue fix, I will go back one more time (hopefully that'll be the last fix) and give it a spit and polish. All of that seems infinitely do-able this year, and that's my toppest majorest goal.

Ahead

2007-01-02T10:46:00.000-05:00

Well, I'm not much of a much for making resolutions, and last year I made two, one of which I summarily busted....that being to finish the re-write of my novel.

For years, I always felt like a failure for not having written the novel (or novels, God willing) I have inside me. Finally, about 5 years ago, I buckled down and did it. Took me almost 13 months, but I finished writing my novel. Roughly 80,000 words worth.

Then I put it aside for a month, to allow my brain to let it go. Then I read it with (seemingly) fresh eyes.

And it sucked.

I don't say this to inspire anyone to tell me "Oh, I'm sure it was fine", or any such encouragement. It actually did suck. All of the writing that had felt literate and poetic and deep (when I was writing it) felt like a guy TRYING to be literate and poetic and deep. Yeah, it sucked....and the feeling I had as I realized that a year's worth of work sucked is hard to put into words. Made me want to give up any and all aspirations of artisty of any kind. Awful.

I picked it up again a while later, and tried to re-read some of it, and I realized it was salvageable (I think, anyway). Beneath the overwrought imagery and too-too precious language was some decent writing, telling (I think) a worthwhile story. Basically, I needed to machete the kudzu out of it, so the trees weren't so damn overgrown.

I worked on that some last year -- and I think the results have some promise -- but I didn't do enough. This year, I really need to finish the re-writing and get it into an agent's hands. I honestly won't be too devastated if it never gets picked up, but I WILL be devastated if I never have the stones to finish the thing.

Slidin'

2006-12-28T16:24:00.000-05:00

Some days, you plow the south 40, churn the milk, whip the horses, rip one off with the old lady on the floor, and still have enough energy to humiliate the boys at 9-ball down at the local waterin' hole.

Other days, watching the breeze seems ambitious enough.

I'm having one of those latter days today. Mostly I've been watching the leaves dance along the path. It's enough for me.

Tomorrow, my nose will be back at the American Dream grindstone.

Employment

2006-12-27T08:59:00.000-05:00

I think I've mentioned (although maybe not) that I'm concerned about losing my job. I really hate the job, so in a way it might be a blessing in disguise, but in the real, pragmatic world, I'm a bit old for this industry. In the computernerd world, I'm ancient, and would/will find a difficult time getting another job should I lose this one.

So.

I laid awake much of Monday night (although I lay awake most nights), worrying that I might lose the job yesterday. I thought they would probably not let me go just before Christmas, but might indeed let me go once the holidays were over....so I worried (a bit) that yesterday might be doomsday....

....and when I got to work, my electronic key fob (that opens the door) did not work. The door beeped, as if it were registering the fob, but it didn't unlock. Yeesh. I thought they had disabled my fob in anticipation of letting me go. Someone else showed up just then and let me in, but my stomach roiled.

Well, I didn't get fired, and the fob worked later. So that's, probably, good news.

I had arrived at work about an hour early (couldn't sleep anyway, doncha know). What I suspect is that they had changed my profile so that I couldn't enter the building during off hours.....I used to work a ton of hours, and many of them late at night or early in the morning. If they changed my access, that's yet more evidence that I'm becoming less and less of a cog, and more and more of a clog. I hate it. It's tearing my poor stomach up.

Back At It

2006-12-27T08:49:00.000-05:00

I love Christmas. I do. And mine was excellent, haul-wise (got both the telescope and the GPS that I had wanted (while not actually expecting to get either)). My Christmas was even better eating-like-a-hippo-wise. I should probably cut back a bit.

That's what the new year is for, no?

Christmas falling on a Monday, though, makes for an oddly short holiday weekend....you rush about, doing all the last-minute stuff; you perform a bunch (well I do, anyway (I played the part of Crazy Guy a couple of times, then rang with the bell choir, sang with the vocal choir, et al); you do the obligatory Christmas Eve and Christmas Day socializing (which is wonderful (if just a mite draining))....then you haul your tired boxer-free butt to work the next day, where the same old piles of excrement lie steaming on your desk.

Ah, well....even a short respite is a respite, and even a taste of relaxation and family is worth it.

MC, HH, JN, so forth

2006-12-22T09:23:00.000-05:00

I don't tend to write this blog for readers (with a few notable exceptions). I just write it for my own journaling, so, I guess, I have a record of what I've done, or what I've been thinking.

And I also write it as an exercise in writing. 's good to compose words daily (or nearly daily), even if they're just part of this self-involved process of blogging. So, I have no expectations that anything I write will be actually, you know, read.

But, for those that might accidentally toddle over here anyway, let me take a moment to wish the happiest of days to you. Christmas, like baseball, is a tradition that we try to ruin with money and selfishness and irrelevant trappings....but the core of it is so beautiful that, once we slice away the overwrought and useless trimmings, it's still magic. Wonderful.

So. Merry Christmas. I hope you have all the joy you desire, all the love you need, and all the serenity you deserve.

Crazy Guy

2006-12-22T08:41:00.000-05:00

For the past four weeks, I've done a performance (brief but loud) at church. For each of the services (one on Saturday, three on Sunday) I've played the part of a crazy guy who stumbles into the church and interrupst the sermon.

Hmmm....how'd I get cast in that role?

Anyway, it's been kind of fun. I skip shaving for a couple of days, and I let my hair Einstein out, and I button my shirt awkwardly....and I rant and mumble and just act, well, crazy.

This weekend will be the last of those. It'll be good not to have to attend all those services, but the gig itself was a gas.

Last weekend, I had a guy that I had never met come up to me. He said he had worked downtown for years, and had seen lots of guys like that....and that I "was as crazy as any of 'em!"

Thanks. I think.....

Poof

2006-12-21T09:30:00.000-05:00

I've been busily preparing for the musical I'm directing in the spring. You know, in most of my life, I'm not exactly anally fastidiously organized. In fact, more than one person has (oddly) accused me of being, well, disorganized. Scattered. Flaky, even. But when I direct, I really like being well prepared; and that very early.

I find the whole synergistic nature of theatre to be compelling, and I love the joy of improvisation that occurs during rehearsal, when actors "feel" a place to be, both emotionally and physically. I would never want to discount or inhibit that process. Rehearsal is a journey, after all, whose destination changes as the path is traversed. In the best productions, we never quite know what we'll have until we have it.

That said, I also believe in said spontaneity blossoming within a well-prepared structure....and that structure is best (and solely) provided by the director, and his vision of the playwright's intent. So I believe that I need to be monumentally prepared -- to know the show in its finest detail, to have planned out the jokes and comic business, the set changes and musical interpretations, the weekly/daily/hourly goals for the whole process long before we even begin.

Then, once we do begin, we'll still be changing and adding business like crazy, but (if it works right) the changes will enhance and improve the plan. FAR too often I've been involved in shows in which the rehearsal process IS the planning process. Often the show comes out fine when it's done that way, but I still believe it would have been better had it been done right.....or "right" as viewed from Tedworld, anyway.

And, for me, God is also in the details. I believe in choreographing each set change. I believe in elucidating each exact sound cue, each exact musical moment, every focus of every single lighting instrument. Skipping those details is often/usually acceptable within amateur theatre, but why? Why not try to be as perfect as you can be?

I don't think it's "Waiting For Guffman" to want to be perfect, do you?

Slidin' On Out

2006-12-20T16:40:00.000-05:00

Well, it was another hard day -- and no, I ain't talkin' dirty (although, want me to?) -- with nose to the grindstone and toes to the line. Soon it'll be clothes to the floor, hose to the hydrant.

Whatever the hell that means.

Tonight, my massive and intense plans include sitting on the couch, getting up to get a beer, and re-sitting.

It's good to have plans.

I just can't seem, lately, to muster much in the way of juice. 'course, I was up at 5:30 this morning helping my overly ambitious daughter prepare eggs for her first period English class. I was up a mite earlier than God, I think.

Ah, the leather couch is callin' me right now.........ahhhhhhh.

Um...phew.....

2006-12-19T09:31:00.000-05:00

Well, I heroically pushed myself through the madding and maddening throngs at the mall, and bought bags and oodles and pockets full of gifts....with barely a mop in the bunch.

Mind you, they're probably lousy gifts, but Christmas is not about giving your loved ones what they most desire; it's about getting the damn job done so you can go have a brew.

Which I heroically did. The beer was pretty damn heroic, too.

'tis the season.....

2006-12-18T12:52:00.000-05:00

The weekend was exceptionally hectic and full. C'mon, holidays....get here, so I can stop worrying about you.

Actually, my shopping is (mostly (more or less (partially (slightly, anyway))) done. Really, all I have to pick up are ~~a ton~~ a few little things......

I'm leaning towards personalized mops.

Weird

2006-12-15T08:46:00.000-05:00

I'm not entirely sure, but I think the world may be coming to an end. Aliens may have arrived. There's something odd in the sky, anyway.

It's bright, and throwing shadows everywhere. And the sky has this very odd color -- almost an, I don't know, azure.

This is Cleveland. We do gray. With gray. And a side of, you know, gray.

Some of the inhabitants -- those that haven't yet been beamed aboard the mothership or incinerated by death beams -- seem to be coping. I even saw a few of them with these odd things covering their eyes. They were almost like glasses, except the lenses were a dark color. Not sure I've ever seen such a thing here.

Oddly, even though it's pretty frightening, I have this urge to happy dance again. Go figure.

In and out; in and out.......

2006-12-14T08:42:00.000-05:00

Kinda roller-coastering lately....going in and out of a good mood (intermingled with going in and out of today's gray depressive woeismeality mood). I think there are just too many unrooted things in my life (starting (but most definitely not ending) with the job uncertainty).

Wasn't too long ago that I was integral and loved here at work; and my opinion was sought and respected (if not always acted upon). Now, I'm a supernumerary whose boss thinks of me never.

Well. At least I had the happy boxer dance on Tuesday (minus the boxers).

Tonight I'm heading directly home from work, on time and ready to roll....and I'm finishing the Christmas decorating even if it kills me. Which, in fact, it might. Then I'm going to write some music (really just finish the arrangement of some music I've been working on forever). I don't care if I'm up all night -- that's what I'm going to do.

Then I'm going to see if it actually is possible to sleep at night. I do have vague recollections of laying down my head and landing in the arms of Morpheus, but only vague.

Time

2006-12-12T12:03:00.000-05:00

It's Christmas season, and I have a kabillion things I oughter be doin' for that....and I'm pretty well swamped at work, and oughter be doin' that.

And my kitchen needs painting and my car needs that pesky flat changed and my workbench needs decluttering and the song I've been working on for weeks need a final coda and my novel needs better dialogue in chapters 13 and 14....

...but the sky is blue and it's amazingly warm for December. So today I'm happy dancing.

The rest of this crap can marinate until tomorrow.

Yay. Hooray.

2006-12-11T12:11:00.000-05:00

It's such a joy to be back at the job, where geeks are geeks and sheep are afraid.

Sump'n like that, anyway.

I don't want to make too fine a point of it -- it's not like my career is a fermenting hell -- but I really don't like what I do. I don't like it at all. And I'm trapped.

Trapped by the money I make; and my age.

Oh, I know, I know, I could always go sell bolts at a hardware store, or drive a two-wheel hand truck around a grocery, or telemarket widgets for the Republican party.....but given family and commitments and all that suburban lifestyle bondage, that's not all that realistic.

So a geek I am; and a geek I shall die.

Sump'n like that, anyway.

Off (more than a little)

2006-12-06T12:02:00.000-05:00

Well, I'm working one more day (that day bein' today), then I'm takin' a couple of days off.

Gonna spend the weekend in the woods. In a cabin, with (something resembling) heat -- I'm not that much a Grizzly Adams. But I love the woods, I love the calm, I love the sweetness of air that's not (too too) filled with exhaust and cell phone conversation.

It'll be almost perfect.

If I only had someone to oil a banana for me, I'd be in, well, pig heaven. Wherever that is.

I Didn't Sing It

2006-12-05T09:22:00.001-05:00

It's that stupid song.

Outside lies a mantle of white, a winter wonderland, clear and crisp and even.

Feh. It took me over two hours to get to work this morning.

Hey, just cause Bing's dreaming of a white Christmas doesn't mean we all have to lockstep along, does it? Give me a beach, a bottle of oil, a fine back to rub it on, and I'll be happy. I could use some mindless reading with a bottle of beer nestled into the sand right next to me.....the biggest stress in deciding when to turn and tan the other side.

Thongs and banana hammocks optional.

All God's Chillun Say "Hmmm".....

2006-12-04T16:06:00.000-05:00

Well, it's Monday.

It's been Monday for much of the entire day. In fact, on a limb I climb to state semi-unequivocably that it's been Monday since, say, midnight.

Who the hell's idea was this?

People Like This Stuff?

2006-11-30T09:07:00.000-05:00

I used to listen to a morning sports talk show, called Mike and Mike. Good guys, knowledgeable about sports...but also funny and quirky and deft. I enjoyed them very much; they made my (looooong) drive into work bearable, if not bareable. This being Cleveland, of course, they were dropped by the local radio station and replaced with a couple of sneering, snide, sarcastic, superior jackasses who live to mock.

What is it with people today (and GOD do I sound like an old fart) that they are drawn to reveling in bullying and self-congratulatory nit-picking? Is our collective self-esteem so sadly low that we can only feel okay about ourselves if others are, somehow, identified as lesser beings? Whatever happened to "there but for the grace of God", so forth? Whatever happened to the power of compassion? When did empathy become seen as the refuge of the weak?

The sports geeks this morning were talking about two guys who had gotten into a fight over a football game -- after (duh!) drinking a wee bit....and one guy ended up shooting the other guy (his best friend) and killing him. Now, I don't have too huge a problem with identifying these tools as pretty stupid, although I'm not sure how we were edified by hearing about it. But the morning geeks told the story, and then managed to laugh and spin joke after joke about it.

This was a man. A husband, father, brother. He left behind children. I'm don't see how the actual human lives that were torn apart by this can be fodder for anyone's humor -- outside of the 5th circle of Hell. They not only laughed about the guys, they specifically mentioned the children, and said the children would be better off without this guy.

They, in effect, cheered this murder as a good thing.

I'm not sure what chills me more -- the fact that "entertainers" can and do feed off this bottom; or the host of follow-up calls they broadcast, each laughing and mocking more.

Maybe, I dunno, I've become a weenie. Maybe life is meant to be spent in a vacuum, not caring about anyone else save as rocks to be stepped on to lift oneself up.

The Gates is Broken

2006-11-29T09:57:00.000-05:00

I just got my first Mac.

Well, my second -- I did have an old Mac classic (back when it seemed pert near incrediblous to have 128 k of memory).

Still, this MacBook is fast and light and easy and cool -- everything Bill Antichrist wishes the Intel/Microsoft world was. I started playing with iMovie, and it makes the DVD generating program I've been using (Roxio) look a little like cave chalk.

The MacBook even has a built in camera, so I can take pictures (or movies) of the office, or out my window, or of me (God and Stevie Wonder forbid) with ease. It's pretty fun.

Don't worry, though -- the boxer pictures are much better left untook.

Film Redux

2006-11-28T10:30:00.000-05:00

I saw "Deja Vu" last weekend. It was really very good.

Film

2006-11-28T10:29:00.000-05:00

I saw "Deja Vu" last weekend. It was really very good.

Fugit Fugit

2006-11-28T10:14:00.000-05:00

Last week flew quicker'n a giblet to a thigh.

Hmmm. Even I have no idea what that means.

Wednesday night, my sister and I continued our tradition. For at least 8 years (maybe more (at my age you lose count (and you also lose, um, huh?)) we've gotten together on the day before Thanksgiving and baked the Thanksgiving pies. We use my mom's recipe (which really is (by fiat and acclaim) the best pie recipe in the contiguous 48 (and half of Mexico)).

We baked three of 'em -- one apple, and two pumpkin. After dinner I, of course, had three pieces of pie. The math seemed to dictate it.

There's (probably) no such thing as a bad pie (Sweeny Todd be damned), but these particular three were among the best pies I've ever had.

Between the feast and dessert (and post-holiday gut-stuffing), I juuuust might have to break out the Tai Bo dvd, huh?

Teensie Stuff

2006-11-16T14:28:00.000-05:00

So, in the interest of posting the minutiae that are the cornerstones of boredom and blogsenselessness:

I ate at the glowing pantheon of decadent, river-styx-bound, golden archified fast food dungeonhood. I had a "Big and Tasty", which was the former, if not so much the latter.

I feel like I ate a shih tzu.

Dust Storm

Blah

Also

Inside

Ruminations

My Theatre, Then and Now

Project

Feel

Teds Voice

Wheels

Gettin' A Head

Man

Well, okay

Easy Peasy

Man!

Turns

Um, *sigh*

The Curtain Always Rises

Well, well, well

Mountain Pics

I'm, well, baaa-aack....

....ford every stream, so forth...

Exactly

Era

Changing

Getting old, and losing my...what are we talkin' about?

And on it goes....

No Reason

Mistah Pot-terr.

Dad, final

Feet up; backside down

Stuff and nonsense

We opened!

Spam

Cleverish

Iconic me?

Why do I agree to these things?

Yet More Dad

On

Wondering....

My dad, continued.....

Broken

On the other hand....

Cast

Man

So......

My Dad

Getcher Updates.....

'tweren't easy

Next

Apace

Monday Night

's Fine

Man......

Well, hell

Less Whine

Sigh

Enough, already....

Wheels

Rodents Lie

Air and Words

Sad?

Upward Bound

Ow

Movement

I Hate Canada

Taa Freakin' Daa!

TGI, you know, F

Easy Monday

Successing....

Stuff on Stuff

Gettin' There

Ummm...brr?

Authorizing

It is Monday, after all

Thumbscrews

That's Two

That's One

Ahead

Slidin'

Um, sigh