In which we discuss the physical rigors of a job that makes me sit down in a car for hours at a go, the familial existence of a travelling troupe, the theraputic nature of various physical activities like exercise and hot baths, and how a city(town? large hamlet?) beset with hills and stairways can satisfy every expectation one might have for a touring theatre gig.
First; the job.
it's good to be back to work. I love the rush of doing a show i know and i trust with people whom i know and trust. The couple of shows we have done thusfar have only served to re-enforce my confidence in this group and the quality of work we are capable of doing consistently and under a myriad of circumstances.
Speaking of circumstances, let's talk about how our troupe has become, in the words of the man himself, EuGenius Douglas, 'The walking Infirm.'
We've got back injuries, spontaneous stomach-yuck(a medical term i read on the internet), and a general feeling of 'oy' coming from the aches and soreness-es of a coming back to a not un-rigorous style of work. It's not so much that our job is, as a whole, extraordinarily strenuous...well, mine isn't.
Maybe i shouldn't speak for the troupe, here.
Actually, now that i'm thinking about it, everyone else is fighting and flopping and flipping all over the stage while i'm sitting in back doing push-ups, and playing on a slide whistle.
And a slapstick.
Perhaps the use of a actual slapstick in my work environment has encouraged my already natural predilection for shtick...yeah, let's go with that.
Anyway.
We be hurt'n and aching, but the solidarity of this group is a huge comfort.
Not growing up as anything less than a hyper-indulged only child of a loving pair of 60's era breeders, i am not one that is able to aptly judge the classic 'sibling' dynamic. Now, i know that what i'm getting here is Not it, but it's the closest i've come since college when i was living in a man house of manly mannishness.
And the years i spent in that Man-Heap-House were some of the best of my life.
So, you might imagine how much I'm enjoying being back with my road family.
Exercise has taken an interesting place in my life of late.
Due to a series of very difficult personal decisions i made recently, i have been feeling all the solitude and social deprivations of touring life a little harder than i did for a solid chunk of last tour.
My sudden singularity notwithstanding, i am a man-child subject to all the image issues, mood swings and self-indulgent introspections one might expect from a pox-ridden teenager (my apologies to all pox-ridden teens; often the zits will go away, but the crazies rarely do), so the use of such mood regulating activities as the high heart rate of aerobics and the deep muscle stimulation of lifting have done well to quell the tide of...well, of silliness.
It's silliness, folks, that keeps us down in the mouth.
Hormones and life events and i'll be slave to neither.
Lynchburg did for me something i wasn't sure if i should continue to hope for; i felt welcomed to that place in a way i'd not had all tour. Which is not to say that i'd ever felt directly un-welcome anywhere else, but the experience of trudging the steps and hillocks of Lynchburg, VA after dark and then again after a yoga class (by the way, Whoever this Bikram fellah is, he is an evil, abusive genius and i want more of it) the next morning left me feeling like a much appreciated visitor.
I went to a bar that was quiet and met a bartender who was not.
We shared dinner and conversation and drinks with the whole wait staff and i felt like someone worth having a conversation with.
This is a post long overdue, but i'm glad to have started up again.
Thanks for reading, guys.
Speaking of circumstances, let's talk about how our troupe has become, in the words of the man himself, EuGenius Douglas, 'The walking Infirm.'
We've got back injuries, spontaneous stomach-yuck(a medical term i read on the internet), and a general feeling of 'oy' coming from the aches and soreness-es of a coming back to a not un-rigorous style of work. It's not so much that our job is, as a whole, extraordinarily strenuous...well, mine isn't.
Maybe i shouldn't speak for the troupe, here.
Actually, now that i'm thinking about it, everyone else is fighting and flopping and flipping all over the stage while i'm sitting in back doing push-ups, and playing on a slide whistle.
And a slapstick.
Perhaps the use of a actual slapstick in my work environment has encouraged my already natural predilection for shtick...yeah, let's go with that.
Anyway.
We be hurt'n and aching, but the solidarity of this group is a huge comfort.
Not growing up as anything less than a hyper-indulged only child of a loving pair of 60's era breeders, i am not one that is able to aptly judge the classic 'sibling' dynamic. Now, i know that what i'm getting here is Not it, but it's the closest i've come since college when i was living in a man house of manly mannishness.
And the years i spent in that Man-Heap-House were some of the best of my life.
So, you might imagine how much I'm enjoying being back with my road family.
Exercise has taken an interesting place in my life of late.
Due to a series of very difficult personal decisions i made recently, i have been feeling all the solitude and social deprivations of touring life a little harder than i did for a solid chunk of last tour.
My sudden singularity notwithstanding, i am a man-child subject to all the image issues, mood swings and self-indulgent introspections one might expect from a pox-ridden teenager (my apologies to all pox-ridden teens; often the zits will go away, but the crazies rarely do), so the use of such mood regulating activities as the high heart rate of aerobics and the deep muscle stimulation of lifting have done well to quell the tide of...well, of silliness.
It's silliness, folks, that keeps us down in the mouth.
Hormones and life events and i'll be slave to neither.
Lynchburg did for me something i wasn't sure if i should continue to hope for; i felt welcomed to that place in a way i'd not had all tour. Which is not to say that i'd ever felt directly un-welcome anywhere else, but the experience of trudging the steps and hillocks of Lynchburg, VA after dark and then again after a yoga class (by the way, Whoever this Bikram fellah is, he is an evil, abusive genius and i want more of it) the next morning left me feeling like a much appreciated visitor.
I went to a bar that was quiet and met a bartender who was not.
We shared dinner and conversation and drinks with the whole wait staff and i felt like someone worth having a conversation with.
This is a post long overdue, but i'm glad to have started up again.
Thanks for reading, guys.
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