surprise

My family came to see Metaluna this weekend.


- My father, who's nearly blind in the one good eye he has left.
- His sister/my sweet (and only) aunt, who is a firm believer that foul language is never funny and that songs should not be written about your father's kidney cancer...no matter how healing (and humorous) it might be.
- Her two daughters/my cousins, who are more into Gray's Anatomy than August Osage County....in fact, I'm pretty sure they've never even heard of Tracy Letts, much less AOC.




I was fairly sure they would politely sit through it, tell me I was "wonderful" ...and then we'd silently agree to never speak of it again.


I was completely wrong. They really loved it. My aunt and cousins were the most reactive, engaged and vocal audience members of the evening. Metaluna is an enigma of a play. It's challenging and crazy and makes no sense for the majority of the show. And my role comes very late in the show, which I try to let folks know, so they can relax and enjoy the play without wondering when the hell I'm showing up.

They was very impressed by the entire cast and the commitment and intensity each actor brought to their role. The ladies were very excited to meet Joe (the playwright.) As fortune would favor me, they sat in the front row, directly across from where I am "placed" on stage. (I'm wheeled in on an antique wheelchair and there I sit for the remaining 25 minutes of the show.) Fortunately, since I really am blind without my glasses, it was easier than I thought to stay focused on the play, even though they were mere inches away from me.

One cousin, after seeing the show, was a bit annoyed with me, "Why is this the first time I've see you perform?!" To be honest, they never seemed that interested (both exist in that suburban sphere of kids, soccer, etc.) ...and I'm long past the point of trying to twist the arms of friends and family to see me onstage.*


The best part of the evening was when, as she handed me a bouquet of flowers, my cousin said, "We probably should have gotten you something different. These flowers aren't very dada." Dude. That made my night.





I'm embarrassed that I gave them so little credit.

Anyway, I'm glad I was wrong. Metaluna is a show that I'm immensely proud to be a part of and am extremely thankful that my family came out to share it with me.








I'm also thankful that afterwards, Joe drank two beers, which somehow led to this grand show-stopper:





Ah, yes. We theater folk are so incredibly elitist. If only folks knew how often backstage banter is comprised of who farted, things we read/watched on the news/youtube/itunes, how gross a spit valve is, who grabbed whose balls, glue guns, how much caffiene one consumed, old tv commercials and sandwiches.



Now dance, monkeys. Dance.
Three shows left. Holla back.



*Except you, Miro. You've got three chances left to see it.