The Acting Life

Actors are always nervous before a performance. Backstage at this theater is no different. It’s also still the pit I remember when I worked there years ago. It’s a narrow space with a clutter of assorted tools at one end and an assortment of painting equipment at the other. The floor looks like a rejected Jackson Pollock and the walls are a dungeon black. Lovely. In the middle of this mess is a long counter with mirrors for the actors to primp and fuss over their make up and costume. My stuff is neatly hung in a corner of the closet. When I come in I park myself on a blue metal folding chair and look over the script or run lines with Bruce my cohort in theatrics.

The backstage has no separate dressing rooms so everyone finds a spot for their stuff and changes right there. We are not a modest group but no one minds. When you spend time in front of an audience baring your soul undressing in front of fellow comrades is nothing. Because of the weirdly sensitive acoustics we must be absolutely quiet during the show as the sound carries everywhere. Everyone moves around softly and converse in whispers. It’s like being in Anne Frank’s attic -with about the same amount of tension.

For this production the actors do their own set up i.e. move furniture and props into place (there are eight short plays). This business helps dissipate any nervousness as I take my place behind a wall and wait my entrance cue.

Every actor’s worse fear is forgetting their lines. I have a good memory that usually allows me to relax a bit during a play but this piece requires a level of concentration that gives me no rest. As I feared I forget a line during rehearsal and sat there with a blank look on my face waiting for something to happen. Good thing Bruce figured this out and kept on going. Well that won’t happen again I decided, horrified. Oh well these things happen, such is life in the theater and like real life when you screw up, you just move on.

The Butterfly revisited

Over the years I have a reoccurring dream where I am back in San Francisco in the old house my family lived in. Various family members are there but it’s always in the present tense because I always recall thinking (in the dream) about how I moved back from Eugene, or reconfiguring stuff into my old room. I even mentioned these semi lucid dreams to my mom during one of these semi lucid dreams. The reality of theses dreams is patently impossible as the house has been remodeled since we lived there and my mother and younger sister have died.

I wake up feeling very frustrated yet oddly knowing something is being worked out. Unfortunately in all these years my subconscious has not let my waking self in on the meaning. After the last one I began to wonder if the dream world of SF is real (they are so vivid) is real and the life here in Eugene is illusion. Like the philosopher in the classic Chinese story I ask myself- am I a butterfly dreaming I am a person or am I a person dreaming that I am a butterfly? This existential dilemma comes up more than I expect. It is entirely conceivable that my present life could be a figment of my imagination in ways I can not possibly explain. Is it possible to change the dream? Considering my poor track record I’m not so sure.

The plays the thing- old girl

Rehearsals for the play I’m in “Glutton for Punishment” go on with increasing anxiety as opening night approaches. Lines, lines, lines. When you watch an performance, you don’t see the hours of memorizing lines and analysis of character that goes into the craft. Even though this play is only ten minutes long, it’s bigger than my last role. It’s not the sheer number of lines rather the context. In the last play I was in “Beyond therapy” there were six characters spread out over two acts. So I had a little scene here, a little there. This one has just two characters and is like a fencing match as they argue back and forth. The plot briefly is thus: Wendy (me) has died and gone to hell where she squares off with Satan, insisting she doesn’t belong there.

“Only when we surrender our ego can we achieve true happiness.” Wendy intones. Indeed actors are often told to sublimate their own to perform. I usually roll my eyes at such existentialism but one really does need to step aside to let the character speak for themselves. Actors have to believe in their characters, even if they are evil, stupid, or ridiculous. In comedy, the more serious you are, the more ludicrous they are.

“I’m supposed to be reincarnated - so I can come back and cut green house gases and reverse global warming.” she insists. You try saying that with a straight face.

Reading a play to the point of memorization is a great way to understand not only the character but the playwright as well. I learned more about play writing while sitting backstage during “Beyond Therapy” than I ever did in a class. Try writing out a song or a chapter of your favorite book and you will get a feel for the author’s voice.

Meanwhile I have 11 pages of dialogue to learn in 2 weeks.

Joke du Jour

A collection of “How many ___ does it take to screw in a lighbulb?” Shamelessly ripped off from a Reddit thread. This joke, like “why did the chicken cross the road?” has so many variations it’s hard to count. Here is a sampling- in no particular order.

How many sorority girls does it take to screw in a lightbulb? 37.
One to screw it in and 36 to make t-shirts to commemorate the occasion.

How many Mexicans does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Juan.

How many Freudian slips does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Two - one to screw it in and one to hold the penis... ladder, I mean ladder.

How many Surrealists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Fish.

How many Vietnam vets does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
You don't know man! You weren't fucking there!

How many straight guys in San Francisco does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Both of them!

How many Firefly fans does it take to change a light bulb?
They wouldn't. They'd rather spend a decade bitching about how it went out.

How many experimental jazz musicians does it take to change a lightbulb?
12/5

How many Bush Administration officials does it take to screw in a light bulb?
None. There is nothing wrong with the light bulb; any reports of its lack of incandescence are delusional spin from the liberal media. That light bulb has served honorably, and anything you say undermines the lighting effect. Why do you hate freedom?

How many Peace Corps Volunteers does it take to change a lightbulb?
Wait, you have electricity?

How many Catholics does it take to change a light bulb?
Change? What's that?

How many Irish people does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Fuck it who cares, we'll drink in the dark.

How many ADHD kids does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
"Wanna go ride bikes?"

How many existentialists does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Two. One to screw it in and one to observe how the light bulb itself symbolizes a single incandescent beacon of subjective reality in a netherworld of endless absurdity reaching out toward a maudlin cosmos of nothingness.

How many border collies does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
One, and he'll also check to make sure your wiring is up to code.

How many sopranos does it take to screw in a light bulb? Three. One to screw it in, one to kick the ladder out from under her and one to say "Don't you think that was a little high for you dear?"

How many Unitarians does it take to change a lightbulb? We would never ask it to change!! It's perfect just the way it is.

How many Calvinists does it take to change a lightbulb? A: None. It will turn on and off as it was predestined to.

How many PMS'ing women does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: ONE, YOU GODDAM MORON!

Quote for the Day

“Man has always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much...the wheel, New York, wars and so on...while all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man...for precisely the same reason.” Douglas Adams, "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

Yes and Dolphins don't kill us over stupid things like parking spaces or out of jealousy. We, however kill dolphins with fish nets and in Japan) if they are competitions for fishing grounds. Obviously they are the superior ones.

File under Duh!

Many years ago I mentioned to my mom in a very facetious tone that I had just read about a fascinating article in JAMA, the Journal of American Medicine: a study discovered that drinking cranberry juice is good for urinary infections. We just howled with laughter. This remedy has been used in folk medicine for centuries. I am reminded of this story every time I read about some fascinating new discovery that is actually already known.

Every one is so concerned how to treat ADD ( hyperactive as it used to be called). Doctors and drug companies are all too eager to hook your kid on expensive psychotropic drugs, when in fact there is a a cheaper, healthier way to deal with kinetic children called diet.

How are we going to feed billions of people on Earth? Will we need to cut down more rainforest and put in huge farms and pasture for grazing? Perhaps not. Sometimes smaller is better.

The Soapbox Rebellion

I spend a lot of time reading the news. I find all the ranting, xenophobic yammering and political intrigues overwhelming, I suspect we all do. Like everyone else I make quick, knee jerk judgments on these matters. So far, I have refrained from jumping into the national conversation because I figured my opinions were worthless and I had nothing of substance to add. I mean, who am I to think I can offer something interesting or meaningful. I’m just a washed up, unemployed graphic artist and writer of no repute suffering from depression, who spends her time uselessly looking around for a purpose in life.

I’m also smart and autistic which means I am smart enough to read pass the shallow hyperbole and see what’s going on below the surface but not adroit at subtly or tact (a common problem with autistics). It means that after the quick judgments I engage in endless solitary debate about them. It means I can listen to opposing rhetoric and see their point of view as well.

So after careful consideration, I have decided that I do have something to offer, that my opinion is just as good- if not better (she says immodestly) than anyone else’s. I have important things to say. I have enough reason to enter the debate on abortion, gay rights, social behavior, politics and climate change. I may rant but it’s because I care. It’s time to be heard.

It’s time we stop paying attention to inanities like Charlie Sheen’s meltdown and focus on issues of relevance that directly impact our lives. The world is changing physically, spiritually and geographically. We need to start a dialog to deal with those changes; finding solutions rather than bickering hopelessly about problems. Each one of us has a voice in making the world a better, more peaceful place. I invite your gentle reader to engage in that dialogue with me.

Quote for the Day

"How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives."
- Annie Dillard, writer

Make your days count.

quote of the Day

“We want a civil state, pluralism, with freedom enshrined by law. Extremism was a reaction to oppression and the violence of the state. Give us freedom and see what happens."

Who said this? A liberal, tea party memeber, a revolutionist? Close. Libyan Muslim cleric, Shukri Abdel-Hamid, who had spent 10 years in prison under Qaddafi.

I hear you Calvin. I know exactly what you're saying.