Sunday, May 30, 2010

They've Won.

I packed two large boxes today and filled them full of things I felt I needed in Seattle.  I checked the weather in Seattle for the summer... yeah, not too warm.  Raincoat and fleece, long sleeeved shirts I can wear under cuter shirts... an umbrella, and some practical clothes for rehearsal and tech.  I have a really cute hat.  I threw it in.

Went through my (very large) stage management kit and pared it down to a shoe box, with a bottle of vodka tucked inside.  I'm trying to prepare for 10 weeks away in a city where I'll not have a car.  Yikes.  Difficult.

I want to travel light.  I don't want my suitcase filled with high heels and boots, (or staplers, scale rules and extra pencils.)  I'm sending them all off Tuesday.  (Monday is a holiday.  So annoying.  WE don't get holidays!)

I will have to travel with my headset and stopwatches and two syringes.  (Worried I'll get stopped by Homeland Security.)

I hate flying these days.  I avoid it as much as I can. I detest having to take off my shoes and open my computer.  Last time I flew to NY, I was wearing a brace on my wrist.  I had a choice.  Take it off and put it in the scanner, or wait twenty minutes for an investigator who would determine the brace was not dangerous.  (It was a velcro strap with a buckle.)  I put it through the scanner.

Love my work.  Love going to new places. HATE hate hate what we have to go through to work.  What can we pack anymore?  I need to pack my cigarettes.  That would imply I need lighters.  No lighters allowed!  So the lighter industry gets me to buy more lighters.

No vials over some odd ounces.  Okay.  So I have to buy cream and shampoo at my destination.  I swear it is a plot to help the economy.

I'm shipping a bunch of stuff.  Including oatmeal and popcorn.  I need what I need.  I don't see why I should have to double the expenditure home and away.

Oh, and do you realize you can only check one bag?  You can only carry-on one bag?  There are business travelers who are gone for weeks and weeks.  (I will be gone for ten.)  I am trying to anticipate this.  I've packed two boxes.

Fed-X.  Gotta love 'em.

I will travel light. (I'll send the heavy stuff ahead.) I will wear shoes easy to take off and put on again.  I will not carry nose scissors in my luggage.  I will have one bag to check in, and I will have one bag (that fits under my seat) to take on.

My purse will be packed and in my luggage.  My computer bag will hold everything...

What happens when we travel abroad?

We've become so paranoid. I think they've won.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

A View From The Booth.


Here is my view from the booth.  



The large houselight obscures my view of stage right.  The angle is really steep.  And when I sit back in my chair it looks a little like this:



Yikes!  Designers of Theatres do not really consider the person sitting upstairs running the whole thing!

One more:

Looks like a dollhouse.  Kinda funny, right?  (If you look closely you can see my arms and my hands reflected in the glass as I took the picture.) 

We are stage managers.  We adapt.  We should probably complain more, but we are always presented with the fait accompli and are never asked our opinions when a theatre is built.  So, we duck and peer, squirm and wiggle around as we try to call a show.  

Architects are artists, right?  Stage Managers are artists too, and should be consulted!

Why not make each space the best it can be?

I'm just saying... 

Friday, May 28, 2010

Real Work.

I've come to realize the next 5 months will be very busy.  I will have some time here and there, and it would be easier if I weren't calling a show right now, but...Busy is better!

I understand the exigencies  of everything.  I get it.  I am excited and happy to contribute to something fairly historic.  I'm back.

It will all end Nov. 7, 2010.  After that, I'll never work again.  (LOL)

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Addlepated And Twitterpated.

I heard a word tonight I'd not heard in a very long time.  "Addlepated." LOVE the word.  It is so innocuous yet says what it means.  I remember hearing a similar word in the Disney Film, "Bambi."  When Bambi asked Thumper what was wrong with Flower, Thumper said, "he's twitterpated."  Flower had just fallen in love with a girl skunk. I was confused at the time, because, all through the film, I'd thought Flower was a girl.  (My first introduction, perhaps, into a wider world.)  But, I was never confused by the word!

How charming the words!  Addlepated. (Scrambled.)  Twitterpated!  (Beats the heck out of "school-girl crush.")

We lose words from time to time.  We rediscover them again.  My husband and I spent a bit of time today discussing the usage of lugubrious, loquacious, languid and languishing.  We talked about the merits of each word and how we've noticed otherwise seemingly intelligent people misuse these perfectly expressive words.  These words communicate more than their definitions can.

We need to use the words that clarify our exact intentions, our exact meanings.  We have the tools.  Are we just too lazy, or too stupid to employ them?

Addlepated.  Twitterpated.

I like both.  Haven't seen either one in a while.

A friend of mine recently remarked, "I would be very happy if I never heard the word 'awesome' again."

Yeah, me too.  "Awesome" has lost its meaning.

Yet, "groovy" seems to last forever!

Comment: (forgive me.)  "Groovy" was invented.  Awesome was a word that had a meaning.  Much like any other word that has been abducted and has come to mean something else.  Gee, what can I use as an example?  User?  Gay?  Cool?  Tweet? Phat? (k, the spelling changed.) What do the British say?
"Brilliant!"  (Really?  "Brilliant"?)

I know the English Language continues to evolve.  I love that it does.  I just want to make sure we don't lose the words that actually say something!
We need to be careful not to lose our ability to speak and write clearly and succinctly with the words that communicate. We need to be careful to not "dumb down."

Anybody and everybody can broaden his/her vocabulary. (Do I really need to write "his/her"?  Can't I just assume in this country that "his" means all of us?)

Political correctness has interfered with the elegance of the written word.

Communication is the key.  Let us all endeavor to say what we mean.

(Wait, there is no "try," just do it! - Is that Yoda or Nike?) 

Monday, May 24, 2010

Constant Contact.

About 30 minutes ago I got a call on my cell phone from my niece.  It was nearly one in the morning!  Scary.  She was fine, just knew I'd be up.  Her mom (my sister) needed some reassurance about our 85 year old dad.  Glad it was minor.  Glad I could assist!

Funny how cellphones have changed our lives.  Interesting that nearly everyone who tries to reach me tries my cellphone first.  (I tend to do the same to them.)  My home phone costs me the same whether I use it or not.  I pre-pay my cell and every call eats up minutes.  It's okay.  I don't begrudge the pennies, I investigated and pre-paying is cheaper for me than any plan out there.  I just don't expect to use it at home!

Maybe it has something to do with the "privacy" of the cell phone. (Yes, I know Google can "hear" everything!)  I have my own number.  My husband has a different number.  We share the land-line.  If someone is trying to reach me and doesn't want to talk to anyone else, he/she will tend to call the cell.  What no one realizes is my husband never answers either his cell or our home phone unless the caller id ids me. He will screen almost everyone else. He is not often well enough to engage.  The home phone rings twice and the answering machine picks up.  (We have it set that way because it is easier for him. He can lay on the couch listening, waiting to hear if that someone calling needs him before he makes the trek to the office to answer.  People have to leave messages at our house.  My friends and family have learned this.  They will jabber and sing until we pick up or they get bored.  My sister counts.  My suggestion.  "Hi, Mary, it's your sister, are you home? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6..."  Tickles me no end!)

Hmm.  My niece knows all this, as does my sister.  Question answered. They needed to reach me and didn't want to disturb Uncle Phil. They called my cell.  Makes perfect sense.

I get calls everywhere I go now.  I have a bluetooth, so I can take calls in the car.  Constant Contact.  A little different than Constant Craving... or Constant Comment... (okay... enough!)

I am grateful that my father and husband (and extended family) can always reach me.  I have to be available to my actors.  Overall, this is a good thing.

But, then comes that cellphone call in the middle of the night from one's 18 year old niece.  Scary every time!

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Back In Time.

I once saw a show and I was one of 6 people in the audience. The cast was 10. The house had about 30 seats. Okay, 24 empty seats. We were welcomed and thanked for coming. The cast did a great job. It was great theatre. I had a grand time.

Tonight I had an audience of 11 people. 4 people in the cast. Better, right? I had 278 empty seats. hmm.

(Oh, and it was great theatre. My actors excelled.)

Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe it is just about doing it.

I don't care. I only care that the show is presented.

I care that it is perfect. I care about those 11 people who came! They deserve the best show we can deliver.

I'm back in time. I'm back where I started and it is good.
xo.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

The Show And The Coyotes.

There is no facility at my current theatre to write and send performance reports, so.. I take the work home. (Don't like coming home with tasks. I have a husband and a life.) Always take my time. No one will read them until tomorrow or Monday anyway. Okay, no big deal. Done. Easy.

The show went very well tonight. We had (OH, hold your breath!) 14 patrons. The theatre has cancelled our Saturday matinees due to lack of ticket sales. So sad. (I don't care. I will perform for two people or twelve or six thousand. I will deliver the show and make sure my audience present will have the best show possible.)

I am conscious my old job is going into tech next week. I am grateful to be here, instead, with my husband. I find I'm excited about going to Seattle (in two weeks). AND... I actually donated 2 1/2 bags to the GoodWill full of shoes and 1 1/2 bags of clothes! (Really, you can't tell yet in my closet. I've more to do!)

Tonight we heard the coyote kits yelping. They were crying with joy, singing really. One could tell, Mom and Dad had come home with the kill of the night. Crazy raucous joy. (They are so close.) My husband and I rejoice, hearing them. They've survived the fires and the rains and the heat and the encroachment. Hooray!

More and more and more... later.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Come See a Show.

Hey, Here I Am, Eddy-Buddy!

That is what my father repeatedly says I said when he recounts my two-year old naked response to greeting everybody at the door. I maintain it was my sister Kris. She agrees, it was she. (I seem to remember her at the door....) But, no, my dad insists it was I.

No memory of that.

I've a good memory for many things and less so for things that have happened recently.

So, I record.

Tonight, my show... hmmm. Well, earlier today we got an email saying we had 6 people for tonight's show, 5 people for tomorrow's show, 4 for the matinee and none for the evening show on Saturday. (Sunday was just as dismal.) We all sent out invitations. This show is not a waste of your time. It is a really good show, with wonderful acting. Nobody is coming. Breaks my heart.

The Theatre has no money for advertising. Their contact list is for people of color. None of them want to see the show, seemingly. We are the first "white show" the company has produced. God, I hate writing this, but it is the truth. The Latino Theatre Company now running the LATC has got all the people of color coming downtown, but can't get white people to come see a show. They can't even get their base to come see a "white" show. It is frustrating and complicated.

My colleague and fellow stage manger did not even realize we were being produced by his company. He thought we were a rental.

No, the LATC is reaching out to all! Come. The shows are great. The place needs your support.

I'm exhausted.

The LATC has no money. Tonight, my monitor went down. I called the show reading lips. (My dear crew man could not fix the problem.) It was..... difficult.

There are payroll problems and constant equipment problems. The company is small and trying to be bigger.

I'm sympathetic.
I'm trying to help.

That's all.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Distracted Thoughts.

Distracted a bit by Star Trek: TNG on television. I like having the voices in the background. I like the dream of space travel. I like all the different species the crew encounters. I like the interaction, the conflict and the resolution. The show appeals to me on more levels than just the science fiction that first attracted me. I've been attracted to science fiction and speculative fiction since I was in junior high. (I think we call that middle-school now.)

I was once a great reader of books. The year I spent in New York, I read 3-5 books a week. This took me outside the speculative fiction and into popular fiction and some non-fiction. (My television did not work very well and I'd be damned if I'd pay for cable... in those days.) I spent a lot of my free time in the bookstore.

My company and I were very good at sharing books while out of town. No one really wanted to travel home with a suitcase full of books! I left some at the apartment I'd sublet. I gave my favorites to friends. I lugged home the ones I felt I couldn't live without. (One of the many reasons my garage is full of boxes and boxes of books.)

I don't read books much anymore. I miss the books. I am too busy now with my husband and the pursuit of my career. (And the walks and my extended family.) I don't see that well anymore either. I wear trifocals and the angle I have to point to read gets tiring very quickly.
(I have my glasses adjusted for reading scripts and looking at a distant stage. The in-between is for the computer.)

But, oh, the books. Oh, the novels. Oh! All those stories! I loved the particularly long ones because that meant I'd spend more time with characters I'd come to love. Some books I revisited again and again. I'm trying to share those stories with our children. (The nieces and nephews and, my students, "our" children.)

Star Trek is over. It is late, in all ways. But, along with reading my next play, cleaning out my closets, buying some new clothes, calling my current show, getting ready for the next, spending time with my husband and my father... I need to read a book!

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Missing Mom.

I've been searching through my blogs to see if I've reported this before. I've written too many and not labeled them well enough. So, pardon me, dear readers, if I repeat myself.

I went to dinner with my dad tonight. Can't go on Friday's anymore, I have a show. We got to talking about my mom, gone 6 years now. I told Dad something my brother-in-law told me I've mentioned here before, "The hurt never goes away, we just get used to it." My dad said, "The hurt is worse now. I'm really hurting. I miss her." Makes me cry, just writing this. He has been so stoic and seemed to be entering a new chapter in his life. I think, with his turning 85 this year, his girlfriend (she is 70 something) just doesn't know enough about him. (I suspect he has more than one.) Sure, she is fun and likable, but what he misses is the depth my mother brought to their relationship. My mother truly changed his life for the better. He was 23 when he married her. (I've been with my husband since I was 21.) They were life long friends and partners. (Just like my dear man and I.) We learn from our parents. It is apparent. (Okay, I'm sorry for the very bad pun.)

Just lately, in my dreams my mother is alive. Until a couple of months ago, when I dreamt about her she was always dead. But now... she lives again. I don't know why. Maybe I miss her more, just like my dad.

Everyone called her Kit. (Sometimes "Kitty".) Her name was Martha Kathryn. Only her parents and her sisters called her Kathryn. Nobody ever called her Martha. In the Navy, Kathryn was shortened to Kit and it stuck. (My sister's name is Suzanne Dedie. NO one called her Suzanne. We only ever called her Dedie. Don't know why.)

I've been reminiscing about my mother of late. She used to carry around a pocket-full of dollar bills. When I was little, if one of us got hurt and cried, she'd come over and pat us and say, "Oh, I'm sorry you are hurt. Here's a dollar." She'd then hand us a one dollar bill and oddly, we felt better. I think it was because we thought it was so funny! As my niece would say, "That's so random!"

Mom was also very deaf and any word she learned after she went deaf she pronounced phonetically. My friends are constantly correcting my pronunciation of some words. Well, if my mom said them with her understanding, that is what I learned. Pollo, Spanish for chicken. How do you thing a deaf person, speaking English would pronounce that? Exactly. Wrong. So I say pollo, not poyo. Armageddon. Ar-mag-ed-don. If you can't hear it pronounced, how can you know it is said arm-ag-ged-don. See what I mean? So I gleefully go through life, smart and educated, understanding all the big words but mispronouncing many. Ah well. Thanks mom, for making me smart and making me sound stupid. Keeps me humble.

Makes me laugh.

Makes me miss her. My mom sang in key every song she learned before she went deaf. (She started going deaf at 24.) After that... yikes! Luckily, she'd learned all the songs kids want to hear before that.

Here is one of her bedtime songs to us.

"She sailed away, on a happy summer day, on the back of a crocodile.
You see said he, "I'm as tame as tame could be, I'll sail you down the Nile."
The croc winked his eye, as she waved them all goodbye, wearing a happy smile.
At the end of the ride, the lady was inside and the smile was on the crocodile!"

An indication of my mother's sense of humor.

She'd then say, "Now, go to sleep!"

God, I miss her.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Too Much Stuff.

Finally opened my most recent show this evening. Mid-adventure, I find myself thinking about the next.

But First.

I have to go through my closet and get rid of those clothes I've kept for too many rag-tag years. I need to reduce the number of shoes I own. Those tight white heels and the oversized sandals. I can't wear them. The other two pairs of shoes I've worn to death should be tossed. They look like crap, but are sooo comfortable. I hate the sneakers I bought last summer. They are in great shape, but I will never wear them again. I have a collection of multi-colored flip-flops. Mostly worn out, but I hang onto them because...? (Well, the flower ones are so pretty but the soles have become slick and I slide and fall in them... but they are pretty!)

I have this urge to simplify my life and I think that starts with getting rid of all the old stuff I've forgotten I have. (Every closet and the garage - full!) I don't even like some of this stuff cluttering up my life.

My dad has a new rule at his house. After a visit with him, his children must find two things to take away. (We are not allowed to give him gifts anymore. I bring him stew or some other dish he can freeze and eat later.) I try to take useful things I know he'll never use again. An old book of poetry (I've boxes of books) or a archaic piece of kitchen equipment. A melon baller or a strawberry pincher. (So now, of course, my kitchen is full too!)

I need to buy new clothes. I look like some poor person. I have a blouse (nearly rags now) that I still wear. I bought it in high school.

Too much. I need to be free of the burden of too much stuff. Where to start? All those scripts filling my bedroom bookcase! Why have I kept my old computer and two broken cell phones?

I need a new rule in my house.

For every one thing I bring in, I get rid of three. I like it.

Friday, May 14, 2010

First Preview And The Art Walk.

My metier. So happy to be calling a show again. And, a good show. And a new show. The preview went well.

There is something happening in downtown Los Angeles. Where it used to be just flat out dangerous, it is now bubbling with life. Babies laughing. Teenagers finding art. People rediscovering the center of town and it is not the Music Center.

This is a different crowd. This is the crowd we need to speak to. This is the crowd where we all really belong. And there exists a theatre meeting that challenge. The LATC.

So much art and so exciting. Art Walk. Every 2nd Thursday (I think) of every month. Come!

You won't believe it! Spring street is positively springing!

Street musicians, street art, street players... amazing and honest and rude and joyous.

You just must come! My eyes were wide open. I promise you will have a good time.

It is all new again. This wonderful Art Walk brings out the youth. They clearly need it.

The old and the new and we all revel together.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Good Advice From Yoda.

Life gets better. Intention and execution. Yes. My show is better, my expectations are greater. Sometimes, pure force of will is indeed all it takes.

I tell my students, "Don't give up, persevere. Face the problem and find a solution. Be useful. Speak up. You know what to do. DO IT!"

(Makes me think of Yoda. "Try not. There is no try. Do.")

Wise and true.

I went walking today. This was my thought:

"The temperate temperature tempered my temper."

Yeah, that's the way I think.

Laugh if you must, I do.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

More Later. Or Not.

Sometimes I am the only person awake. That time is now.
Alive with thoughts and the world sleeps. Our world is oh so incestuous. We talk and gossip, but sometimes miss the truth.
That's all.
More Later.

Or Not.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Cheese Bread.

I shopped for my husband today. He's been left to fend for himself a little bit these last few days. How lovely I've found the time. I made a beautiful chicken and mushroom sauce I put over linguini, topped with parmesan and parsley. Lots of butter. A little salad and some garlic cheese bread rounded out the meal. Watermelon for desert. It was all divine. (And enough left-overs for tomorrow.)

Cooking is one of my true passions. I love the order and the routine of it all. I love setting a table and presenting my husband with the creation. (No matter how routine the dinner is, he always says, "you should serve this to company, next time.") I love that he loves my cooking. I learned from my mom. I'm a better cook than she was (the truth) but I've adopted her philosophy. Protein, Green Vegetable and Starch. Balance. Everybody is happy and everyone is nourished. It works.

I like what works. At work, my Tech Director and I are still friends after the email I sent last night. Still haven't heard from the General Manager, which is a bit weird. But... I've accepted my lot and I love my young designers, my new-found new friends. The work is continuing to get better. I'm fine with it all. Somehow, as it always does, the show will go on. Love that.

Cooking and stage managing. Life is good. I'm grateful and I'm happy. (I leave in a month for Seattle. Yikes!)

Monday, May 10, 2010

Expecting More.

Teching does not always bring the joy I wildly anticipate. I am currently working at a theatre that endeavors to become more legit. Not Ready For Prime Time? Not Quite Ready For Professional Theatre!

Earnest and young. Uninformed and seemingly unwilling or too overworked to read the contract they've signed. Arrogant and insecure and very very defensive. I've tolerated a lot, understanding how difficult it is to make the jump into legitimacy; and I want to help them. I'm trying.

But.

Part of helping this organization is to open their eyes. They've made the leap and have to stay informed and face the challenges that legitimacy presents. They need to honor that aforementioned contract. And it is all such a "oh, um, hum...shit, we have to do that? Where does it say that?" kind of conversation that I am having every day. Boring. Does nobody read what they've signed?

I'm in tech and my extremely long fuse is growing short. (It took us an hour and a half until I could start the tech...) I wrote a letter to some of the players tonight and we will see what tomorrow will bring.

I just want to deliver the best piece of theatre I can. I will spend my time with this company delivering just that. I will fight for the work onstage. That is my contract with them.

And.

They need to step up to the plate. Yes! Higher expectations!

I can't do this without them. (Right there is the incentive.) Theatre takes a community. I need them all and without them we cannot succeed.

(Succeed we will! I'm taking steps...)

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Thank-You Note.

I received the following thank-you note the other day. It was so charming, I had to share it!


I know it is difficult to read... it is in pencil, written by my 11 year old niece.

"Dear Aunt Mary and Uncle Phil,
Thank you for the Alice In
Wonderland books and The Hobbit. I haven't
started to read them because I'm up to
my knees in books. I'm also afraid that when
I read them I will spill something or rip the
book and I don't want to do that because
there so beautiful. I promise I will
overcome my fear.
Love,
Piper"

Her writing is clear and conversational. She tells a story with very few words. (A lesson there!)

"I promise I will overcome my fear." How wise and timely. How astute for an eleven year old, and what good advice!

(Uncle Phil and I are still laughing with delight.)

Monday, May 3, 2010

"Excellent Good," A Disaster, And What I've (Re) Learned.

I must say, working too much is better than not working at all. So much to think about and so little time to worry about the small things that consume all of us when we are not otherwise engaged.

I find I'm better at setting priorities when I'm working. I have an hour to read the paper, eat breakfast and do the puzzles. (I do Sudoku because it keeps me sharp. Expertise at the game has given me the ability to create very complicated schedules in relatively short amounts of time. I do the crossword puzzles because they keep me thinking and help me remember world events and why I think puns are so funny.) I have 45 minutes to take a shower and get dressed. I give myself 45 minutes to drive to work. (It takes less than 25.) I always plan to arrive at rehearsal an hour before the actors. (I end up with an hour-twenty. I have time to chat, or have another cup of coffee - okay, smoke a cigarette...)

I love running the rehearsal. I like the housekeeping... um, staying on the same page as my actors... letting them know I'm taking care of my company even if that means I have to do a little chiding to keep all running smoothly.

Yes. Work is good. Sharing and caring. Helping and sometimes abetting. As my dear friend would say, "Excellent good!"

My attention is on my current show, my current cast of characters. Until I get 1951-2006 opened, I've postponed really wrapping my head around the next gig that will take me to Seattle, back to LA and on to South Africa. (Ruined, by Lynn Nottage.) I'm excited about the future, but first things first. There is an order. I like order. I like my world to make sense. Hmm. Mark of a stage manager, I think.

I'm so grateful (shouldn't it be greatful?) to my friends and family who've talked to me and struggled through those leaner, darker days with me. I'm happy I've had this blog where I could unload some of those introspective self-absorbed thoughts to the ether. Writing took the pain and muted it, gave it less power, let me sleep.

I'm back.

Now, what the fuck is happening with the oil spill? Tired of hearing whom is at fault. Where are the creative minds who can fix the problem? Oh, my god, it makes me weep with frustration and anxiety. The program "Sunday Morning" did a story about the oil spill. At the end they presented us with old video of the protected habitats in Louisiana. Gorgeous pictures. We stand to lose all that wildlife. The people on the Gulf Coast will lose their livelihood. The oil spill is a crime that will ultimately affect us all. The tragedy is incomprehensible. I have no words.

We go on. We have to. We live and try to bring joy to each new day. It is, after all, our responsibility. I think, more than ever before, we need to look out for each other, lend an ear, a hand and whatever spare change we have lying around. We need to wake up each morning and help.

And look outside ourselves.