Goodbye Party, Hello Tennessee!
You get inured to it--you may not like it but you take it as a fact of life, trust to the Gods that you'll see the good folk again and the bad ones nevermore and go on to the next gig. Or unemployment--also known as "resting". Some shows are harder to shake off than others and if you don't have a gig right away you can go into a slump.
Me? I was very sad to part company with that show and those people but glad I had another job--we closed on a Sunday Matinee, I had a nice dinner with my wife, and then hopped on a plane the next day and flew to Knoxville, Tennessee to do a production of A Flea In Her Ear at the University of Tenn. @ Knoxville. Why? Well, a few reasons follow:
1. I had no other job offers in that time slot.
2. I wanted to open a new door opportunity-wise.
3. Flea was one of the very first shows I did in College--I played the jealous butler, Etienne.
It was also the show that I missed my very first entrance in.........that's another story.
4. I never bin to Tennessee befo'
The last and most vain reason was that the director Cal Maclean remembered my performance in Importance of Being Earnest 15 years ago at Berkeley Rep. and that was the reason he offered me the role of Chandebise/Posche, the lead in the show. That's a long memory.
You notice I said I was playing Chandebise/Posche? Yes, that's 2 roles--one is the Director of the Paris Life Insurance Co. and the other is a doorman in a very garish Bordello, and yes Timmy, a Bordello is a place where the naughty ladies hang out. And the naughty lads, come to think of it--The Frisky Puss Hotel....
Flea is the French Farce to end all French Farces and has dopplegangers, revolving beds, aforementioned naughty people, hookers and hookahs, jealous butlers, French maids, nephews with speech impediments, retired French Legionaries, old guys popping up out of beds, lost suspenders, garters, and pissed off Spaniards.
They'd originally scheduled 2 1/2 weeks of rehearsal before Cal realized he was insane, and added a week to the rehearsal process--there's so much business, so many timing issues, that with the one extra week we barely made it.
It was exhausting process-- Very physically demanding and very hard on my butt--I got kicked by the manager of the Frisky Puss at least 15 times (not all at once, thank God) and he didn't always, well, hit his mark shall we say? To be fair, I was a moving target most of the time. They finally got me something called--no lie--an Azz Pad. For skateboarders. Say it like Arnold. AAHZZ PAAD.
I crammed lines during the day and was on my feet most of the rehearsal day, learning lots of biz and blocking, and running during a good deal of it. They'd joked about having oxygen tanks backstage....I was half hoping they would, as I had multiple quick changes, some of which had to take place in about 10 seconds AND my next entrance on the opposite side of the stage--I didn't think I'd ever get through the thing until I realized............I wasn't breathing. I was talking, I was running but I wasn't breathing or rather I wasn't breathing in the right places and as a consequence was running out of gas the way a runner or a singer might.
Then came the ultimate sacrifice to my craft; cutting my hair, which by this time was down to my shoulders and which I was becoming inordinately fond of............ of course I'd trimmed none of my other hairs, so when my ears were again visible I was slightly aghast at the plethora of fur that abounded there. Tufts. I could've done cornrows............Nobody told me when I was a boy that I would turn into a Hobbit. I think I screamed--- a shrill girly scream which lasted till my razor had done it's work and they were nude again.
So to sum it up, Delilah: I did the show, had a grand time, met some old friends and gained many new, acquired many dings and nicks along the way (you know, sometimes you just forget to wear the ol' AZZ PAD) and saw the tiniest portion of Tenneessee, but it was bloody beautiful, blooming, and bliss to a tree freak like myself--I wanted to turn everything into a Bonsai--said goodbye with some promise of coming back, closed the show on a Sunday, flew out on Monday and started rehearsals for Richard III on Tuesday with my short hair, and my pink shell-like ears.
And now I'm home. Performing in Richard and looking for work to fill in after it closes and King Lear starts. Anybody need coaching? Acting lessons? Seriously.
Coming Up: Things I've Been Hurt With!
I'm running out of subjects here, folks! Questions?