But, it's so beautiful...

The day, people. MN in November can be frassy. Let's enjoy the sunshine, sunshines!

No? Wondering how the hammock show went?

So it's done, anyway. I will strip, no more, forever. Last sats, I got up mighty early to hit the "Lear" cb. (Which went, well? I wudn't cast, to which I am no for tripping. It was literally a "who's who" of the TC small teatro' mafia scene. A- I wasn't surprised by the fact I wasn't cast and B- It would have been intimidating as fuck to work w/some to most of them. I'm interested to see where it goes. As a PS to this, I walked outta "Lear" at the flying G back in 1995. By act 2, I was dying. Die-Ing. I was really kinda bored. Way bored. Like "Hey...I'm watching Shakespeare" bored. Tell me a story.) Anyway, a 10am callback. 10 am callbacks should be outlawed. Everyone knows that actors don't get done puking until noon.

Then it was off to BCT. I tell ya, it's weird coming in to do shit like this. On top of being a last minnit understudy (Where you don't have the rehearsal process to make those initial connections/relationships. Shit that I still think is important to making a cohesive show. Me? I just show up, get a costume, and hope I don't fuck up too much) I was a last minnit understudy who did, in fact, need to take off almost all of my clothes.

Quick rumination: This came up in a Strib article a few weeks ago re: Stage Nudity. Now, if the show was right and it was in context, I'd do it. Fine. It's a part of life, yadda yadda yadda (And for anyone that actually saw "Bug" at the PHT, you know that it is a part of the story. Again, I need to say this: Brave actors) But someone said in the above referenced article "It's easier to just either be on stage nekkid, or to start the scene nekkid rather than taking your clothes off"

No shit. I give these strippers (And I say stripper. Not "Hey, look! I'm already nakey! C'mon, guys and gals. Put something INTO it) credit. I thought that I could just get up there and do some half assed club kid pelvic thrusting and then disrobe like a virgin on prom night. Not so much. So yeah. I can't pat myself on the back for having done it, but I still need the acknowledgement out there- Hard stuff.

So diet wise, I was a little more cut the previous week. (For the dietary nerds- I think I hit my water table a day late. Not as much vascularity and an increased smoothness around where it needed NOT to be) I push upped backstage while fielding questions from the cast 14 year old regarding the new Spidey movie. I flexed and worked on getting a pump before going on. (To the point that my body ACHED the next day. You want pain? Try flexing your arm ala' Arnold. Now, hold it. Hold it. Hooooold it. Isometric exercise sucks balls) And I did my thing.

Right before I went on, one of the casties sez "I like it when Eddie jiggles his butt. Can you do that?" Sure. So, the tear aways come off for the final reveal (around the time the guitar riff starts in "Hot Stuff") I flex, turn, and do it. Wobble wobble. Robble robble.

Clearly, my mother is on holiday.

The hard part being over (Behind the unrehearsed and completely improvised Ball room dance scene) I hung up my shit and waited for curtain. The question in my mind is, who in the name of fuck is going to get that banana hammock? Most theatres I know of keep a stock of "stock" costumes from previous performances- Or hold annual sales around H'ween. I can't imagine the pervy motherfrasser who'd buy either one of our thongs. Ish-kabob.

Post show I skidaddled toute suite so I could EAT (Having not eaten since 8am...by 5pm I was a hungry hippo) I was about to frass with Redwright as to our nibbly destination when I was passed by an elderly woman, slowly moving toward the exit. Her arms touches mine, ever so briefly, and in a very conspiratorial fashion (I imagine, so that her hearing aided hubby ahead of her couldn't hear) she sez out of the corner of her mouth:

"Nice buns"

Thank you? (sigh) Well. Those sexy seniors ARE in fact my demographic.

'Nother one bites the dust.