WNEP Theater Auditon: The (edward) Hopper Project

WNEP Theater is holding General Auditions for the World Premiere of "The (edward) Hopper Project," an original two-act play scheduled for production January 15 - February 21 (Thu-Sun) at the Storefront Theater on Randolph.

Auditions are SATURDAY, OCTOBER 24 and SUNDAY, OCTOBER 25 from Noon - 5pm at the DCA Studio Theater, 77 E Randolph (located inside the Cultural Center.) Must be available for callbacks on Monday, October 26 from 7pm - 10pm.

To schedule a 5 minute audtion, please email Don hall at hall@wneptheater.org. Include your full name, email address, and contact phone number.

We will schedule a slot for you and contact you with audition requirements. There is minimal pay.



Dude. You should totally audition for this.

backing the wrong horse

Note: I started this post last week and got sidetracked. I'm having a "finish what you start" kind of day, so I'm gonna post it even though I'm coming late to the table.

I thought I could be quiet about the Polanski arrest.
Folks more versed than myself, were saying what I would, but more concisely.

Honestly, in this day and age, can anyone defend a 40 yr old who had sex with a 13 yr old? Really?

But then a small contingent of "artists" had to put their .02 down on the wrong horse. Here is a list of folks I really lost respect for today:

Pedro Almodovar
Wes Anderson
Darren Aronofsky
Gael Garcia Bernal
Adrian Brody
Jonathan Demme
Penelope Cruz
Alfonso Cuaron*
Guillermo del Toro
Stephen Frears
Terry Gilliam*
Buck Henry (which makes his SNL character "Uncle Roy" really really gross.)
John Landis
David Lynch
Michael Mann
Jeanne Moreau
Richard Pena
Martin Scorcese
Tilda Swinton
Tom Tykwer*
Wim Wenders

This is not about a crime against artistic freedom or expression.
This is not a criticism of a man's creative work.
This is not about political persecution of an artist.

This is literally about the fact that after admitting to giving a 13 yr old girl alcohol/drugs and having unconsensual sex with her (read the grand jury testimony) and pleading down to lesser charges...after spending 45 days in jail and taking to a psychiatrist, Polanski jumped bail and left the country.

Period.

It's so overwhelmingly disappointing that these folks can't separate Polanski the filmmaker from Polanski the fugitive child rapist (because no matter what he pleaded down to? He raped that girl, folks.)

Some of these folk - their work - mi dios! It's had a big impact on the kind of stories I want to tell. So much so that I want to find an excuse for them for signing this petition. That they were in a rush when someone stuck a petition under their nose and they didn't really think about it and just signed.

But, I'm making excuses.

They signed it. And they're wrong. Period.


I'd add Woody Allen to the list...but honestly, I lost all respect for him in the mid-90's. Also, the complete lack of irony in Allen's support? Unfathomable.

the lost footage

If you missed it on FB, John put together this "trailer" for our show, which if very helpful, when you're trying to describe a live, sci-fi, improv show and folks look at you funny.





For those folks in town who haven't seen THEMS, hopefully this might tempt you into coming out...there are just a few more weeks to catch it.

For those of you who have seen it, the video below is a completely different perspective on the show.

Last week, the fantastic Kevin Reome came in as "Jack Bannion." Think something along the lines of a documentary/reality show in the vein of "Dirty Jobs" or "Man vs. Wild." As the host of "Space Danger," Jack is following the the EHT crew and documenting life aboard a mining class ship.

It's like seeing the show thru entirely new eyes. I adore it.
It's very Blair Witchy - in the best sense.

This is actual footage Kevin shot while performing live during the show, in front of an audience.
None of this is scripted, none of it rehearsed.




THEMS is...

Jarrad Apperson
Chris Biddle
Jamie Buell
John Eiberger
Glenn Fancher
Ross Foti
Sabrina Harper
Lisa Linke

swagger

When I blow my candles out on my birthday cake...my wish will be to acquire some "swagger." I'm in short supply of it these days.

If I need a little inspiration...I know where to go.




This one's not shabby either.
Go on, kid. Show 'em how to work it.

give me these moments back

So, I'm thinking you might have heard by now.

Whether you were a fan or not matters little - if you were a teen (or pre-teen) in the mid-80's, the influence of John Hughes' movies likely impacted you on some level.

I was 14 and a freshman the spring "16 Candles" came out.

And like so many girls that age, it didn't take long for me to idolize Molly Ringwald and her characters - her cool, her clothes, her car, the fantasy of the cute boy throwing over the prom queen for you and "getting you" even though you were six kinds of awkward misfit.

And after getting her boobies fondled by grandma, she developed a backbone and retorts and, while still agnsty, she stood tall in her "apartness" and was true to herself.

But more than the stories or characters on screen, what I really connected with was Hughes ear for soundtracks. He put songs my friends and I listened to on screen. Artists that probably didn't get much radio play in the days of Madonna and Whitney, but folks we worshipped on our headphones and dance floors.

His soundtracks were freakish mirrors of the mix-tapes we would make and pass around to each other.

English Beat
OMD
Everything But the Girl
Tears for Fears
Sigue Sigue Sputnik
Joe Jackson
Love and Rockets
Gene Loves Jezebel
Oingo Boingo
Jesus and the Mary Chain
General Public
Killing Joke
The Pyschedelic Furs
Wall of Voodoo
Big Audio Dynamite
New Order
Echo & the Bunnyman
The Smiths
XTC

I had "Pretty in Pink" on vinyl.
I had "Some Kind of Wonderful" on cassette.
I still have "She's Having a Baby" on CD around here somewhere.

I said it.
I own a copy of that soundtrack.
Jealous?

Admittedly, while not the greatest of his many hits, "She's Having a Baby" is still one of my favorites for three reasons. The soundtrack was hawesome. The silly outro of folks coming up with a baby name during the credits still makes me grin. Last, but not least, it was the first time I heard this song...




I can't embed it her version of the actual music video...so you have to go elsewhere to watch it. Trust me, it's worth the click. (It's worth noting that Bush directed that video.)

I already knew Kate Bush.
Loved "Running Up That Hill."
But, this song.

If you ever want to see me cry like a little girl, put this song on and turn it up.

20+ years later and I still think it's one of the most beautiful songs. Ever.


My only gripe is that in '89, it wasn't nominated for an Oscar* - hey, it might have still been beat out by Carly Simon's "Let the River Run," but we'll never know because it was never nominated. Idiots. Hell, I'm still shocked that the woman was only nominated for a Grammy one time. Once. Arg.

But, this isn't about awards and accolades, it's about memories and influences and those things hardwired into your brain.

I will always think of John Hughes when I hear this song and I will always think of this song when someone mentions John Hughes.

Thank you for putting this in my head John Hughes.
And thank you for embracing a music culture apart from the mainstream.

Rest in peace.



*indeed, Bush wrote this song specifically for the film and then released it the following year on her album, "The Sensual World."

better angels

Recently, I've been thinking about the nature of friendship.

On what kind of friend I've been (sometimes good, sometimes not so good), what friendships I've fostered or been fostered by, the different types of friends that float in and out of my life and the ones that have been stalwart and sure for decades.

A big part of my identity has always been based in my self perception of "friend."

Much of what I consider to be good in my life is based not on my intelligence, experience or humor...but in the intelligence, experience and humor shared and discovered with my friends.

Tonight, as I kicked back with a group of folks I would likely go to the ends of the earth for, I told an old chestnut of a long-running joke about one of my oldest and dearest friends who was present. After the laughter died down and most of the crowd left us alone, I asked him if he ever got mad at me for some stupid thing I say or did. He thought about it for a moment and said no. (Which I think has a little more to do with him being such a laid back and easy going fella and less to do with my loud mouth.)

It made me consider the times I've been a good friend and other times when I've been kind of a louse and my very good fortune of having friends willing to put up with the louse-y parts of my personality to enjoy what might be my better angels.

Then I saw this video and I'm amazed by how much it says (and so simply) how much I wish I could go back and undo all the silly, stupid things I may have done or said to my friends (and even folks that just crossed my path at the wrong moment) who I might have injured - even on the smallest level.





I suppose this is an unofficial declaration of my rededication to the friendships in my world - of all shapes and sizes.

taking the Bee back

As a post-modern-modern woman, I'm a big believer that there are some things worth "taking back." Not only to honor what they historically represent, but embracing what those representations mean today and applying them to our everyday lives.

In days of olde, women gathered for quilting bees and sewing bees - ever the productive and efficient gender.

When reviewing our skill sets and our need to take a break from both bringing home the bacon and also frying it up in a pan, our ladies auxiliary went for an event more social than utilitarian.

We decided to hold a Tequila Bee.

I'm not a big drinker these days.
I'm what you would call the "occasional imbiber."

It should be stated that, more times than not, if I feel like putting my drinking cap on or attempt to relive my rowdy 20's, I normally have to Plan. That. Shit. Out.

I believe the equation is that for every 1 hour I drink, I need 5 hours of recovery time.

Even after doing the math, I was highly anticipating the chance to throw a few back with friends and letting my brain float away on a wash of fermentation, come what may. Friday was such a day.

A few of the ladies gathered on a friend's back porch. Reminiscent of a pot-luck, we each brought something to the table.

I showed up with the Tequila (two kinds), limes and a double batch of fresh guacamole. B picked up the chips, salsa, fancy cookies and the Triple Sec. J brought some tasty mini-tacos a la Trader Joe's (damn. TJ's has some tasty hors devours!) And K made some of her home brewed sour mix especially for the occasion.

It was the perfect weather to just sit on the porch and swim around in Margaritaville. We people watched (the porch has a bird's eye view of an el platform), regaled each other with saucy tales and just plain relaxed our minds and bodies.

While we didn't walk away with a Friendship Ring quilt or husk any corn, I think that we lived up to the true nature of a "bee" and accomplished a productive task that drew us together as friends and neighbors.

We got stewed.

In fact, we had such a delightful time, we're already planning another for later this summer...and I wouldn't be surprised if a Martini Bee doesn't pop up in the fall.


While a huge party of friendly folk is nice, a small cadre of companions is sometimes a better balm to soothe the beastie within.

My recommendation to you (whether or not you have alcohol on hand) is an afternoon spent on a back porch with a small group of friends telling stories and making each other laugh.

Although, I really would recommend the liquor.


On a specific note, while the standard José Cuervo Gold is fine for mixing, do yourself a proper and get a better quality tequila for doing shots. We went with José Cuervo Black Medallion (aged for more than one year in oak casks) and baby, that was some smooth agave for anyone on a budget.

slowly i turn

Yeah. I've been gone.
Yeah. I'm back.
Yeah. My brain is slowly recovering from a slight bout of heat stroke.

Until I'm back in the proverbial saddle, I'll give you this...which puts a smile on my face and makes me dance in my seat until I get up and shake what my mama gave me.

Enjoy.




The gentleman in the video is Jim Slonina, currently a clown with Cirque du Soleil and former member of the brilliant (now defunct) Defiant Theater company here in Chicago.

matinee

There's just something glorious about catching a mid-week matinee.
It's a small slice of freedom, it is.

Go see Star Trek.

Ok. Yeah. You've probably already seen it. I try to avoid the opening weekend flicks. I tend to wait a few weeks so I'm not ass-to-elbow with other theater-goers. Although, I think a big crowd would have been nice on this score. We had a small crowd, but some really vocal responses to the flickering screen - which had me snorting in my popcorn.

It's everything a summer blockbuster should be and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Although, it's fairly ironic that while I enjoyed this freewheeling feeling of a Wednesday afternoon at the movies, the clock was ticking down to pull my other chariot out from under me. My car was in the shop, awaiting a brake inspection while James Tiberius Kirk was attempting to save the day.

I always wonder how people live without a car in the city. Yeah, I know how to get around on public transit, but I wouldn't be able to do half the things I do with a regular set of wheels at the ready. To be honest, when I bought my condo in 2004, I thought by 2006 or 2007 at that latest, I'd be turning in my beater for another set of (used) wheels.

Of course, 18K+ in special assessments and frozen pay raises and a bum economy and my personal hurdle of being a "challenged" saver, has kept me in one beat up hunk of auto. I've had this car (which I bought with 40k miles on it) for 10 years and (an additional) 100K miles.

She ain't pretty, but she gets the job done.

Many times I've considered turning her into an art project...she's never going to be traded in, and she's worth next to nothing in blue book. Her next home will be the auto yard. So, I toy with the idea of doing something like this or this or even this.

Maybe this is the year.

Maybe I put her up on craig's list and allow some up and coming art major to use her for their thesis. My fear is that I get some modern-day O'Keefe who wants to turn my beater into a giant, four-wheeled vagina.

Not that there is anything wrong with a giant vagina...I just don't really want to go grocery shopping in one.

nph

I caught about 10 minutes of the Tony's and then turned the TV off. Before my wondering eyes did appear yet another revival of "West Side Story," and while that is a fantastic musical, it pains me that there are so few fantastic new musicals (that aren't based on a flipping movie) that Broadway has to have a revival of the same 5 chestnuts every 3 years.

Not even thoughts of the delightful Neil Patrick Harris hosting could woo me to turn it back on.

This morning, I heard about NPH's closing number and I have little doubt, that it was the finest moment of the show.

And I quote,

This show could not be any gayer,
If Liza was named mayor
And Elton John took flight...

The curtain falls
I'm off to hit some big Tony balls....
Goooooodniiiiiight!!!

Enjoy.





This is why Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog is so freaking worthwhile...Mr. Neil Patrick Harris, my friend. Except no substitute.

And yes, I'm tickled by the quaint irony that he's singing to the tune of the very song/show that made me run screaming into the night. The universe, she's got a sense of humor, that one.

precious

At the end of the day, when I finally made it back to my office, and as I was hacking my lungs out, an office mate peered around my cube and told me I sounded just like Gollum.

And then reenacted a scene from "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers" to prove his point.

I think Andy Serkis would have been proud.
Of both of us.

perspective

The first reviews for THEMS are hitting the wire, kids!

TimeOut Chicago
On Saturday 9, the Playground Theater debuted THEMS, a simultaneously creepy and goofy improvised play that lovingly spoofs the sci-fi/horror genre Ripley Scott mastered with Alien, the film that began an enduring (if not eventually lame) franchise and countless knockoffs.

THEMS takes place in 2156, in a post-earth society in which humans have now colonized Mars and are attempting to do the same with Venus. But in order to make the planet inhabitable, they must secure a rare element known as Carbon9. A crew of futuristic 49ers have landed on an uncharted asteroid and culled the largest concentration of the element in recorded history—a feat which will make them rich beyond their wildest dreams—if they can survive the journey home. A mysterious bacteria is latching onto crew members and zombifying them all—one poor bastard at a time.

In order to more fully immerse the audience into this premise, show producers John Eiberger and Ross Foti along with director Rebecca Langguth, have done something improvised shows rarely do, ratchet up the production values, and they’ve done it successfully. THEMS admirably transports the audience into outer space with painted canvass backgrounds that recreate the inner bowels of a spaceship, spacesuits for crew members, a crafty mainframe computer named VOX (played with deadpan earnest by Chris O. Biddle) who spits out commands and ship details and who we sense, like Ian Holm’s nefarious android Ash in Alien, has an agenda of its own, and face masks for the audience (a gratuitous, if not funny addition). There’s even a flamethrower!

But the real attention to detail is in character archetypes. THEMS‘ motley crew of greedy, booze-swilling space cowboys each maintains his own position aboard the ship—the veteran space engineer, the dutiful captain, the company man, etc.—and like in Alien (or even more accurately, Alien Resurrection), this grizzled band of galactic pirates each has an ulterior motive; they’re more devoid of humanity then the monster they’re warding off. THEMS is a wink-filled tribute to the characters and situations that fill the sci-fi genre and the ensemble plays this to the hilt. The pleasure in THEMS is watching these guys improvise their way out of stock sci-fi conundrums (the ship is self-destructing!, there’s not enough room in the escape pod for everyone!, there’s a stowaway on board!) and do so within the constraints of the genre. Although these feats were pulled off with only partial aplomb on opening night (a lot of plot lines ended up unresolved), as the ensemble continues to experiment week after week, it will be interesting to see how they’ll play with sci-fi’s unlimited possibilities.

THEMS probably won’t appeal to anyone who greeted the release of J.J. Abrams’ rebooted Star Trek with a yawn. But if you can name the actor and film in which the line “Game over, man! Game Over!” is uttered, then the Playground has a nice alternative to Sigourney Weaver duking it out with an angry alien bitch.


Then there's Don, who was less impressed with our efforts.

And since Don taught me the "art" of the "pick" when it comes to reviews, I'd like to thank him for writing the following in his review: "...unique...", "truly inspired", "sincerely busting their asses" , and "a real bitch."


Here's the deal. You don't create theater for reviews. You create it because you get an idea in your head that gets under your skin until you have to pull the trigger and manifest it on a stage.

(Good reviews can be helpful in getting asses in the seats, though, so I'm not looking any gift horse in the mouth. Nobody attached to THEMS is getting paid for their work - the main goal is to recoup production costs. Sounds kinda familiar, huh...?)

For me, the only opinions that truly matter are the folks who are working on the show. The ones who put the sweat in. When they are satifisfied with the performance they have given...that's the success. That's the worth.

That said, I really want the folks who lay down their dime to enjoy the show. Because I enjoyed my part in putting it there for their amusement.

Rooty toot.

open for business

THEMS is finally open.

Opening night was...bumpy. It had it's moments, but overall, it was a bit rougher around the edges than it should have been.

Normally, prior to opening, a show will have a rough rehearsal where wrong turns are made. We never had that bad rehearsal...and I feel that, in a way...last night, it happened.

The thing about a rough rehearsal is that by going through it, like any time you make a misstep, you learn so much and benefit from it more, than when things go smoothly. Last night wasn't awful, by any means, but it was rough in more places than we've encountered in the past month plus.

We learned a lot last night.

I personally make a rookie mistake that was a big lesson for me as a director and which I believe set the tone which started the show.

We also added a bunch of elements that the crew had not played with (due to various reasons) to the show last night...so the crew (what I call the cast), were juggling knives while spinnning brand new plates.

There were some hits and misses.

Our biggest hurdle with this format is getting too caught up in plot and not focusing on the relationships. We got plot heavy. Plot is a nowhere road, my friends.

Overall, I gave it a C.

Of course, I'm an asshole with really high expectations of myself and these folks. The show was only firing on about half of the cylinders we've constructed. Enough cylinders to make it fun for the audience...but not enough to make it satisfying for the crew.

That said, I was really proud of everyone. They've all put a lot of work into this peice and good work will out.

Yes. It was bumpy. We basically had an unplanned dress tech in front of an opening night audience. We set an amazingly high bar and fell a bit short of it last night.

I know what these folks can do. I've seen it and it's phenomenal.

I sprained both ankles last night (long story) by tripping twice on the same stair.

It's kind of an odd mirror, because I think we tripped the show up - got in our own way, instead of doing the work and embracing the joy that we normally bring to the floor.

I think last night they tripped...but now that they know where that fucking stair is, I have no doubt they will jump it and bring the bar back to the place where they want to play.

Next week, I expect our cylinders to be fully functional and I can't wait to watch them create that world and play in it. I think the world of those folks and can't wait for more audiences to see what they can create.

soundtrack

Olive woke me up early, and I needed to make a run to the store, so after a walk, we jumped in the car and I hit the Jewel.

On the drive home, with the window down, the pooch with her nose out the window, I channel surfed onto this song. And then I cranked that motha.



The very first album I ever bought (which technically was an 8-track), was back in 1977. I was 8 and my parents had just joined one of those new fangled music clubs (I think it was Columbia House) and they let each of us pick a couple out.

I have little doubt that, as much as BOSTON FREAKING ROCKS, in the age of glorious 70's cover art I'm sure that I was more than swayed by the spaceship. (I find it more than slightly amusing that, in a few short hours, we open a show set on a spaceship. Hmmm...beshert.)

While I don't have that 8-track anymore and never got around to replacing it on vinyl, cassette or CD over the years, I still can't help but crank a Boston song when I hear one on the radio.

As I put together the pre-show music for THEMS, I was focused on late 70's and early 80's rock that would have been playing at the same time the movies we used as inspiration were released.

Of course, Don't Look Back jumped right out at me...which got me playing more and more of Boston's discography...and wondering why I never replaced that 8-track.

Maybe I just like the way songs like that always take me by surprise when I hear them after not hearing them for a bit.

I have to say, when asked "What was your first album?"
I think 8-year old me nailed it.

Way to go, 8-year old me. Way to go.
[high fivin' my 8 year old self.]


Now if youre feelin kinda low bout the dues youve been paying
Futures coming much too slow
And you wanna run but somehow you just keep on stayin
Can't decide on which way to go
Yeah, yeah, yeah

I understand about indecision
But I dont care if I get behind
People livin in competition
All I want is to have my peace of mind.

Now youre climbin to the top of the company ladder
Hope it doesnt take too long
Can't cha you see there'll come a day when it wont matter
Come a day when youll be gone

I understand about indecision
But I dont care if I get behind
People livin in competition
All I want is to have my peace of mind.

Take a look ahead, take a look ahead,
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...

Now everybodys got advice they just keep on givin
Doesn't mean too much to me
Lots of people out to make-believe they're livin
Can't decide who they should be.

I understand about indecision
But I dont care if I get behind
People livin in competition
All I want is to have my peace of mind.

Take a look ahead, take a look ahead. look ahead.


Words to live by...which still hold up 30 years later.

relations

This has been a week full of me thinking about aspects of family.
The ones you were born into...and the ones you make for yourself.

When I heard about this, I had to laugh.

t-minus five

Okay. I know said I wasn't going to blog this week, but I changed my mind. I am, however, putting a moratorium on my brand new format this week, because my brain can only process show-related stuff.


Random thoughts swirling:

1. It's been a while since I've directed improv. I am so utterly excited and proud of this show and at the same time, I'm in fear that I will be the one to fuck it up. Or rather, keep it from being as utterly awesome as it already is.

2. I totally have a crush on every member of my cast. It's not a "dude, I wanna mack on you" crush. It's the kind of crush you get about a person's inner attributes. I'm crushing on their smarts, ability to be giddy with each other, commitment to the material, sense of timing and play, willingness to go there and the fact that they let me get away with using my vagina as both a reference point and a threat.

I recall something about refering to my vagina as a "control patch."

It seemed to make sense at the time. I'm sure the actual humilation of that moment will hit me in about a week, when they respectfully throw it back in my face.

3. My brain is tired due to an immense lack of sleep. All weekend I had trouble finding my words to express myself (which, hey, when you're directing folks? Being specific and using your words, is really the main requirement.) Here's the weird thing. I came in 2nd in a Spelling Bee on Saturday night. While drinking 3 beers.

I'm still shocked that I spelled bouillon correctly in the first round.

4. Yes. I shouldn't be drinking beers while on my meds. So noted. But, do I get points for not eating any chocolate cake or like a Whopper at 2am after getting drunk? People! I think I should get points!

5. As a rule, once a show is up (in the regular theater world) the director doesn't come to every single performance. There was a brief time when I thought, "Hey, I might miss a couple shows during the run for WNEP related stuff."

That day is over. I will not miss one minute of these shows and a part of me is already aching with the knowing that it will be over in just 8 performances.

6. Did I mention that Ross and John are assholes? They totally are. More people should have assholes like these in their periphery. You can't have them, though. They are my assholes. Get your own.

7. Getting emails from the cast that read, "I'm fucking excited." And, "effing out of my mind happy we open Saturday!" make me effing out of my mind happy and fucking excited that we open on Saturday.

8. Did I mention, starting May 16th, Don Hall is going to make me workout at 8am every freaking Saturday morning? I already hate him. And yet...no, I hate him. In the best way possible! Woot!

9. Our s***ies are the best s***ies in all the land! [You will never cypher this out...unless you see THEMS. Sorry. Dems da breaks.]

10. You'll be delighted to know that "Eat a bag of dicks," has dropped from the forefront of my brain. It was, instead, replaced by a new catch phrase that is both family-friendly, while still conveying the message and intent of "Eat a bag..."

I present to you, "Simmer down, pot roast!"

Okay. I admit, it's kinda in the delivery, but man?
If you could hear it in my head? You might just do a spit take.

Word.

Okay. I've got a list of shit I need to suss out tonight.
I've got to get to sussin'!

rock paper scissors lizard spock

Next week, I'm taking a sabbatical from blogging as we enter the final phase of getting the show up on its feet.

We have one week left to take the training wheels off this bad boy.




Did I mention...it's a comedy?

This weekend is going to be non-stop production and rehearsal pandemonium. I just hope I'm not scratching myself in an inappropriate manner in front of the cast. Nothing undermines your authority like hopping around like you're an extra from the "itching powder in the sleeping bags" episode of The Brady Bunch.

Yesterday was plain awful. (Yeah. I'm quoting a singing redhead. Sue me.) Today is just as itchy and bumpy and annoying as yesterday. I'm counting the minutes until I can pop another Claritin (don't tell, I'm going to take it a little sooner than 24 hours!)

For someone who's really never had a lot of medical problems, this last month has been a roller coaster I would like a refund on. And yet, it's been supremely enjoyable in terms of working on the show.

Every day brings a new and glorious prop/costume peice or (even better) a fantastic choice by a performer to move the story along. Sitting watching smart people play smart people? It's the bee's knees, brother!

I wonder if I've ever said thank you to John and Ross?
Ah. Fuck 'em.
Those assholes can eat a bag of dicks.

In other news...be afraid, be very afraid.

And since I don't want to leave you entirely in the lurch for something to keep you occupied while I'm "offline", here's an upgrade on a classic.




Don't say I never did nuthin' for ya.



Note: I read "eat a bag of dicks" on a news blog today and it cracked me up and made me think of Mike Powers, who had that line in a play some years back. Nobody, and I mean nobody can deliver the line "eat a bag of dicks" like Powers.

Unfortunately, now, I can't stop repeating "eat a bag of dicks" in my head. I'm sure the meds are causing this along with the vertigo and the allergy. Stupid meds.

picture day 04.29.09

I've actually been thinking more about green related issues this week than I did on Earth Day. In fact, I think the Bernard Court Ladies Auxiliary might be signing up to support local farmers.

Baby roo judges you.

Or, he might want to chew on your skull. Hard to discern.

I would like to throw out a fist bump to our President for making it through these rocky first 100 days. Nobody said it was going to be a cake walk. Actually, someone may have said that. Keep on trucking, POTUS!

Get Up On This: Spelling Bee

Okay, this one is slightly self-serving.

The gents who are producing THEMS are throwing this shindig. And I'll be there.

And I believe it's BYOB, so let's get a sixer and spell our brains out!

It's a Winner Take All Spelling Bee at the Playground Theater on May 2nd. Pay $15.00 and enter the Bee, or pay just $5 and watch!

The winner will take the money from gathered from the entrants!

So, the more people who play, the bigger the pot!

Doesn't this sound like fun? You can watch or play...and isn't there a part of you that's always wanted to try your skills in a Bee...but discovered that you can't go back to 5th grade?

I'm a decent speller, but a horrible typist...so who knows if I'll make it past the first round.

10pm - this Saturday night @ the Playground

$5 to Watch, $15 to Play!

For those of you who will be too far from Halsted to participate, I'll recommend a viewing of Spellbound which was the documentary of the 1999 Scripps National Spelling Bee. Think of it as a warm-up to the 82nd Scripps National Spelling Bee which is coming in about a month.

Last night I caught a bit of one of the early Harry Potter movies. Chamber of Secrets, methinks. Anyway, what struck me is how beautiful and descriptive the english language can be when you use it...correctly. Damn Brits always sounding so high falootin'!

I'm as guilty of buffoonery as the next guy, when it comes to the grunts and mutterings that fall out of my pie-hole. I think that's why I love the idea of spelling bees. It's not just about the ability to retain correct spellings and meanings of words. It's about WORDS. The noble building blocks for novels, poems, songs, conversations, philosophies, jokes, eulogies...hell. Even blogs.

de plane

I suppose there's history to be found just about everywhere you go in the world, but as I've mentioned before, I really enjoy the seemingly unlimited histories of Chicago.

Last week, a marine salvage company, working with the naval aviation museum, hauled this out of Lake Michigan, about 30 miles from shore:





The aircraft went down during WWII training operations when naval pilots were being trained off Navy Pier for takeoffs and landings on aircraft carriers.

The plane was lost Nov. 24, 1944, as Ensign Joseph Lokites, a pilot with 380 flight hours, tried his third of about six required landings on the USS Wolverine.

"It just crashed. I guess it ran out of gas or something. I took over from another pilot," Lokites, 86, said in a phone interview from his Des Moines home. He landed in frigid water, and the right wing dipped under, but he was still able to jump out.

"It's not cold when you're fighting for life or death," he said, chuckling. "I was lucky."

A handful of pilots died, and more than 100 planes were lost to the lake. About 40 have been recovered, restored and spotlighted in Naval collections, museums and airport terminals.


While there are still about 60 planes hidden beneath the surface of the lake, chances of recovering them are getting slimmer due to the invasion of deep water quagga mussels (seen covering the plane.) Post restoration, this aircraft will be put on display in the National WWII Museum in New Orleans.

Man! I'm just thinking of all the Postmortem monologues I could have done if I read this ten years ago!