Some Theater and Some Books

This past weekend I acted in two plays for a reader's theater here in town.  The plays were "Captive Audience" by David Ives and "The Actor's Nightmare" by Christopher Durang.  The whole process, from being cast through rehearsals and performance lasted only one week.  It's the kind of theater where you have no set, very little movement and keep your script in hand. I didn't know anything about "reader's theater" until this project last weekend, but I thought it was fun.  The audiences seemed to like it.  I'd be happy to do it again.

Also in town this weekend was Armistead Maupin!  He came to Powell's Books to discuss, read from and sign his new Tales of the City book, Mary Ann in Autumn.  SO EXCITING to have a new "Tales" book!  I feel like a believer who just discovered a new Gospel has been added to the Good Book.  I love them so much.

I didn't get to hear Armistead read from or discuss the book, though, as I was at the theater doing the above-mentioned plays.  As soon as I had bowed my bow, I rushed out the door and ran the three blocks to Powell's, raced up to the 3rd floor...and he was still there, signing the very last person in line's book.  If I'd had to wait for a traffic light to change, I would have missed him.  He looked tired and frazzled, so I didn't bother him much, just got my book signed and exchanged pleasantries.  Can't wait to read it.  I'm almost afraid to start, because I know I won't stop, and then it'll be finished. 

I also picked up the new Stephen King collection of novellas called Full Dark, No Stars.  The first story, 1922, is just amazing.  That word - amazing - is so ridiculously overused, but it is the only word that really captures the genius and artistry of this story.

I recommend both of these books HIGHLY, and if you haven't read the Tales of the City books, well....I sort of envy you.  Because they lie ahead for you, glittering and wonderful.  Read them!

Laid Off

Well, hello!  I haven't blogged in a while.  Mainly because I didn't want to write another depressing/negative post.  Don't want you readers thinking that my life is just one big unpleasant news story, over and over.

But the truth is, I did get more bad luck.  After losing my vehicle and my beloved dog Jesse...I have now been laid off my job at the Portland Opera.  A job I absolutely loved.  This last happened a month ago today, October 15.  So I've had time to adjust.


I have decided that, while I will continue to look for work, I am going to write.  Fiction, plays, whatever.  I am going to set myself up a schedule and adhere to it like writers must.  Just like a job.  Maybe something good will come from that.  At least it will keep me sane!   I just have to try and stay off Facebook, and keep the television quiet.  When you're alone as much as I now am, the distractions are very comforting, but they do not help produce anything good.  Music works. 

Anyway, I hope you are having a good fall, had a happy halloween and such.  I will be spending Thanksgiving on the Oregon coast with some cousins of mine, and Christmas with family in Sacramento (unless the airport is closed again this year due to snow).

There surely can't be any more awful news coming my way....can there?  Surely I will have positive things to write about.

You take care, I will blog more frequently...it's good to get the writing juices running.

Las Vegas, Baby

I had a great time in Las Vegas.  I had never been there before, and wow...what a place.  The massive casino complexes, all the sights and people...amazing. 

The best part was spending some time with my wonderful mom.  We walked the strip, ate at buffets and did the shows together.  Sometimes we just lay on our beds and watched TV at night.  We stayed at the Paris hotel, which is just beautiful.

Sunday night we went to see Barry Manilow. I have always loved Barry, and we got amazing seats in the third row!  Barry sang every song you'd want or expect, and he was charming, dazzling and warm.  Loved it, it was such a treat.

Also got to see the musical Jersey Boys.  Excellent show, see it if you get a chance.

At the Luxor hotel, I went to see the Titanic exhibition and the Bodies exhibition. Both really fascinating and informative.  Humane and respectful, as well.  Very cool.

Did not do much gambling, somehow I left my gambling mojo at home.  Tried a bit at the Blackjack tables, but...no "winner, winner, chicken dinner".

I would definitely go back to Las Vegas, but bring a lot more money.  Everything is expensive.  Had a great time, though.  Hope you all had an excellent weekend.

Pagliacci & Carmina Burana

I saw the dress rehearsal Wednesday night, and I'm going again tonight for the opening.  I don't think I've ever enjoyed an opera more than this production of Pagliacci.  It's only about 70 minutes long, full of drama and action and a gorgeous score.  I really loved it!  When Canio launches into the Vesti la giubba at the end at the end of Act One, it was a real thrill.


The second half of the evening is Carl Orff's CARMINA BURANA which I had never seen, or even really heard, except for the iconic "O Fortuna" and the gorgeous "In Trutina" - click those links and listen!  The piece is interpreted by Portland modern dance company Bodyvox and is a thrilling companion to Pagliacci.  The idea is that Carmina Burana is what goes through Canio's mind as he stands over the bodies of Nedda and Silvio, whom he has just murdered.  It's all very brilliant.

Have a great weekend!

The End of RUSH = The End of an Era.

PWD, which produces and distributes RUSH poppers...has gone out of business.    Apparently, Joe Miller, who ran the company, committed suicide.  RUSH has been around since the early '70's, and I have been a fan for many (probably around 30) years.  I don't even want to think about how many bottles I have gone through.  If I had all those empty bottles still, they would probably fill up my entire apartment...or more.  Yet I still have a brain cell, or two, left.

A hit of RUSH simply puts my brain into "the sexy place".  I guess I'll have to figure out how to get to that "sexy place" - the place that gets me off - without RUSH from now on!  I don't much care for other brands of poppers.

It's not only RUSH that was produced and distributed by PWD...it's also LOCKER ROOM (very famous name in poppers), QUICKSILVER, HARDWARE and others.  They are all pretty much the same, and they are far superior to any other brand.  The late Mr. Miller considered himself - as do I - a connoisseur of poppers, and always made sure his products were top-notch.  There are LOTS of knock-off bottles of RUSH out there; and in fact, here in Portland only ONE place sells genuine RUSH.  Every other place in town sells fake RUSH.

Oy, the changes I am going through these days!  No more sexy time with my little brown bottles of RUSH? 

I need to look at my astrological chart. 

But change can be very good, too, and I am just trying to remember to go with the flow....paddle in hand, to steer things in the direction that I want to go.

This weekend I will finally vacuum up the remainder of Jesse's fur that is on the carpet.  I have been resisting that chore.  I did go around on my hands on knees and pick up/save a bunch of it.  It still smells like him.  I have it in a plastic blag.

I know...these blog posts need to get more positive.  I'll lose all my many (4) readers!  I do appreciate you guys, and thanks for your comments.

Have a great weekend!

Reunion

This weekend was nice.  Two friends of mine who I haven't seen since the very early 90's both popped up at the same time here in Portland, so we ran around yesterday all day and all night.  Shopping, eating, gabbing, taking pictures, drinking, ogling the strippers at Silverado and singing karaoke.  It was really fun and I definitely needed a good time.

I picked up Jesse's ashes on Friday.  He came back to me in a very nice, sturdy wooden box, with his name on it.  It made me cry some, but, when I think about the whole thing, Jesse had a very good death.  It was not unexpected, it was peaceful, I got to spend plenty of time with him in the week beforehand.  So, I am at peace with the whole thing, and ready to move on.  It was oddly comforting to bring him back home, even though it was just his ashes.  Still miss the little guy greatly, guess I always will.

So now I will begin looking for a new apartment, my current place was really for Jesse, I don't need to live there anymore.  I'm going to look for a more urban place, maybe downtown Portland or very close in to work and theaters and such. I'm really looking forward to a change.

Next month I am taking a little vacation to Las Vegas, a place I have never been to before.  Looking forward to that.  We are gearing up for our production of Pagliacci/ Carmina Burana here at the opera.  Should be an amazing production. 

Other than all of that, life just goes on!  Hope you are well.

Goodbye, My Sweet Boy. Jesse Brown, 1995 - 2010

In September of 1995, I went to the Multnomah County Animal Shelter, and came home with the adorable puppy in the above photo.  He was eight weeks old, and I named him Jesse.

At the time, I was in the midst of a crippling depression, the kind where you just don't get out of bed.  Jesse changed all that.  There would be no more laying around depressed, the little bundle of sweetness and light was in need of training and love.  He was also full of energy, and so I had to rise to up to the challenge.  I had never had a pet of my own (though there were other wonderful dogs in my family growing up), and Jesse and I learned together as we started our 15 year relationship.

And what a relationship.  Unlike any other I've ever had.  We went everywhere together, and I always looked forward to coming home to him.  Such a sweet little guy.  All that love.

About a year ago, I noticed a lump on his belly. The vet said it was a "fatty deposit", something that wasn't really going to harm him or anything.  He'd never had any real health problems before.  Over the last year, the lump got bigger and bigger, until it was bigger than his head.  Two weeks ago I noticed that it was starting to weep fluid.  I took him to the vet, and it was decided that he needed to have the thing removed.  He had blood work done to make sure that he could safely undergo the removal surgery.

The blood work revealed that Jesse also had a progressive kidney disease.  His vet said that, while he could go ahead and have the growth removed, the kidney problem was only going to get worse and he would probably only live another six months or so, and that those would probably be a rough six months for Jesse. 

Last night, my sweet boy, my companion and love for the last fifteen years was put to sleep.  I had a week to say goodbye.  I cooked him hamburgers and fed him each piece.  I lay by his side and sang to him, petted him, reminisced and told him how much I loved him.  My friend Caleb took us to the vet, and I held him on my lap on the way there, and he kissed me.

The vet administered a sedative, and then a lethal dose of anesthesia.  Jesse died while I held him in my arms. 

Lying on the soft white dog's bed where Jesse passed away, he looked like he was asleep.  His eyes were closed, he did not void his bowels or bladder upon death.  It was incredibly hard to walk out of that room and away from that sweet, furry, still form that I have love for nearly a third of my life.

I walked out of the door, and felt a weird sense of...relief.  Relief that the process was complete.  And feeling relief caused me to also feel a lot of guilt...it just didn't seem like the right feeling.  I expected to be a sobbing mess.

This morning, the grief has really kicked in, in very intense waves.  It's something I haven't experienced before.  It comes unbidden and sudden.  Knowing that I did the right and humane thing for my sweet little guy doesn't really make it much better.

 I miss him so much already.  I'm alone in an empty apartment.  There is soft, black fur still on the carpet.  I am hesitant to vacuum it up.  His blue collar hangs on a doorknob.

I am trying to resist being maudlin, but that is how I feel.  Empty and lonely.  I know it's all normal and natural, and the knowing really doesn't help.

What has helped is all the amazing support and kindness of my friends, so much compassion has come my way over the last several days. This is the last photo I took of Jesse. 

I love you, Jesse.  I always will.  I miss you, Bubba Dog.  Thank you for sharing your short, beautiful life and all your love with me. I won't ever forget you. Goodbye, my sweet, sweet boy.

Life Is A Series of Hellos and Goodbyes

My blog buddy Urspo did a post on friendship the other day, which inspired me to do one myself.

I am in a very odd place with friendships these days.  A person with whom I have had a relationship since I was 14 years old, and considered a "best friend" had a big fight last Labor Day - he was very abusive to my 15 year old dog -  and we have not spoken in almost a year.  And the truth is, I really think that friendship is over. If you had told me the day before last Labor Day that my friendship with Kelly would end the next day, I wouldn't have believed it possible.  But it did, and it has remained over with, and, honestly, I think it's for the best.  I would accept an apology from him, but I would not start our friendship back up, because I have come to realize that the relationship was very co-dependent.  I don't miss him at all, and that is a weird feeling.

Other friendships have passed away, too. People have moved far away, and those relationships can only be continue if both parties are determined to maintain them.  Steven and I are doing this, we talk on the phone and catch up.  I hope that our friendship will always continue.  With others, the calls and promises to come visit have slowly become less frequent.

Being a person with AIDS and on disability makes friendships harder, too.  I don't have the kind of income that many of my contemporaries have - and I no longer have a car - so, I don't go out much anymore. I don't get invited to parties or gatherings, and I don't throw them myself.  Being out in a gay bar is very lonely experience.  It's not that people don't like me - I am well-known, and fairly well-thought-of around town in different circles - I think it's a class thing.  People prefer friends of their own socio-economic status, I think, which - while understandable - is something that makes me sad.

I have made some new friends, though, in recent times.  I have a couple of buddies to go to movies with on the weekends.  And a lovely new friend with a common interest in playwriting.  And of course, there is my dog.

Sometimes I think that maybe I'm just being whiny. Other times, I think that I am just heinous, and nobody should ever talk to me.

Facebook friends are a whole other phenonema.  That subject requires its own post.

When I think about friendships, I always flash on Billy Joel's song "Say Goodbye to Hollywood", and lyrics he wrote:

 Movin' on is a chance you take
Any time you try to stay - together
Say a word out of line
And you find that the friends you had
Are gone forever
Forever

So many faces in and out of my life
Some will last
Some will just be now and then
Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes
I'm afraid it's time for goodbye again
Say goodbye to Hollywood
Say goodbye, my baby
Say goodbye to Hollywood
Say goodbye, my baby 

A Gentleman Caller

Had a nice weekend.  My fuckbuddy friend from Seattle came down to visit, and we partied and played Friday night, and then slept in on Saturday before getting up (after another bout) and hitting breakfast and then yard sales.  It was most pleasant to sleep with someone in my bed, it had been awhile.

Sunday was mostly just relaxing with books and dvds and my dog. I had to douse him with Advantage, so now he feels better.  Damn fleas.

I'm reading a collection of essays by Tennessee Williams.  He's not only a great playwright, but a terrific essayist.  He might be my favorite playwright, someone I'd love to emulate.

The new Broadway revival of South Pathetic Pacific opens tomorrow night.  I was in a production of that show long ago...6 shows a week for 10 weeks.  Yet I am looking forward to seeing this Lincoln Center touring production.

Hope you had a good weekend too, and continue to have a wonderful week!

Thus endeth the scintillating blog post.

No Cancer

I don't have cancer, according to the oncologist.  There's nothing wrong with me (except the usual everything).

I feel good, am relatively happy (because happiness is a choice) and enjoying the summer.  I could have done without that month of wondering why I had to go see an oncologist, but...all is well.

Cheers!

The Weekend

It was hot here!  In the 90's!

I went to a playwriting festival here in town, called JAW, which stands for Just Add Water.  Professionally staged readings of new work from new and established playwrights.  I also attended a workshop on dramaturgy and a play writing workshop by Will Eno

which I enjoyed.  Also was at the reading of Eno's new play GNIT, which is sort of a modern retelling of Ibsens' Peer Gynt.

We had a really sad death in the Oregon Bear community over the weekend, with the swift, unexpected and just wrong death of DJ Sam Storicks, a young, handsome, extremely witty man who was liked by just about everyone.  So sad...still don't know what happened to him, but I'm really sad that he died.

Tomorrow is my appointment with the oncologist.  I'm not very worried, though, I really don't think I have cancer or anything very bad.  I do have an enlarged spleen and liver - the results of 22 years of hiv meds, I guess. Wish me luck!

And have a great week, yo.  Uncle Mark loves ya.

Much

So I've given all my blood to the vampires phlebotomists.at the Kaiser lab and I've had an ultrasound.  I guess I'll find something out the end of this month about my elevated LDH levels.

I haven't been thinking much about THAT, but I have been thinking about Joe Manganiello, who plays Alcide this season on True Blood. 

I've also been taking surreptitious photos of guys on the bus with my iPhone, which is a fun little hobby.  Here's one: 

Looks like he spotted me.  More pictures of unsuspecting hotties on the bus on my Flickr page

Been out to Rooster Rock nude beach and Sauvie Island as well.  I like to run around nekkid in the sunshine. 

Just kind of in a summer slump...peaceful, mellow and lying by the fan.  Not a lot of energy or social life going on right now.  I'll be very happy when I hear that I DON'T have some horrible kind of cancer.

Not Much

Not too much going on, which is why I haven't blogged, I guess.  I have found that it's dangerous to talk about your life when there is nothing much happening, because I tend to talk about things that don't need to be on the web, but...

My new friend John is a playwright and we have been chatting about our respective works.  He is definitely a man of action, and, within weeks of moving to Portland is having a reading of one of his plays.  He's asked me to read the lead role, so I'm looking forward to that, and to joining the same playwriting group that he has hooked up with.  My play is in need of major re-writing, I have determined, and so I am trying to get it together to do that.


Just don't have a lot of interest in much, lately, since the loss of my truck.  Had some identity theft, so I can't get a loan to get a new vehicle until that is cleared up. Speaking with a lawyer to try and get some help with that.

Most nights I am home, watching TV. 

Also having big fear about a phone call I got from an oncologist's office....apparently my doctor wants me to go and see one.  So I guess I may have cancer or some blood disease.  Makes sense, as my energy level is extremely low these days.

BUT, anyhoo, The Lion King is still roaring through our ticket office, and I got my new CD of Phillip Glass's Orphee which was just released.  I recommend it highly! 

SO...a bit of a gloomy post, but...it's summer, and I am relatively content.  The weather is still weird and rainy, but it should be nice soon.   I just need to get OUT OF THE HOUSE, and I also need to get laid. 

Oy, the weather!

It rains, the heat beats down, then it rains again.  The weather here is a trip.

My shoulders and back are sunburned from nude sunbathing on Sauvie Island on Saturday.  I went with my lovely new friends Rick and John.  We had a good time, ate a picnic lunch and soaked up some vitamin D.  There were lots and lots of people there, and the river was very high.  We, however, were not high.  But we were content.

Today, though, it's like monsoon season.  Hard, cold rain and hail pounding the pavement.   Even so, there are people in shorts jogging.  So weird.

Extremely busy at work with the Opera season, The new Broadway season, the Lion King opening tomorrow...it's crazy-busy time.  I don't mind it.

The Place It All Rises To

This is a piece of short fiction I wrote which was published in December 2009, in an anthology entitled "More Than a Book".

The Place It All Rises To

Manuel gazes up at the heavy, ornate wooden doors and smiles.  Taking a breath and crossing his arms over his chest, he leans forward, propelling himself through the doors:  Out of the heat, away from the world.  Once inside, the doors swing closed behind him, and he finds himself standing in a silent, crushed-velvet, golden room.

He has never been inside this building, and yet he is home.  He steps out of what remains of the shoes he has been given - this is, after all, holy ground - and steps forward onto the red carpet that stretches all the way down the wooden floor to the encrusted platform ahead.

Manuel makes his way past the empty pews, past the stained-glass eyes that weep and roll heavenward  and, mercifully, do not judge or regard him.  There is no judgment here today, just a peaceful quiet and the competing smells of vanilla candles and lemon Pledge.

Well, no, not only those.  There is something else here; Manuel has heard about it and it is what has drawn him from his cardboard shelter, three buses away.  Now there it is, directly ahead.  A shock of pleasure courses through him and he jumps a little, almost squeaking aloud.  Not in church,  he hears his mother's voice saying, so Manuel shushes himself, but allows a grin to overtake his face.

Skirting the altar, Manuel stops for a moment and buckles his tired, aging knees to genuflect.  Groaning up to his height again, he makes his way across the chancel - knowing he is not meant to be there - and stands before the Grand Object, shiny and black like patent leather.  Sucking in a deep breath, he sits on the stool, which welcomes his weight with an audible koosh.

It all feel automatic, not as though more than fifteen years have passed since he last played a piano.  His dirty toes find the cold, smooth pedals and his fingers immediately play the warm-up phrase from Rachmaninoff his mother taught him to always begin with:  C, D, A, C, G.

Manuel plays and plays, fingers dancing with the ivory keys.  Melodies arise from his memory, and he begins to laugh.  He decides in that moment that he will play this piano until someone comes along and stops him, until the lights dim and the cloud of joy he is sitting in blows away.

At around one-thirty p.m., he will be found, half on and half off the piano bench, having completed his own welcome march into heaven.  Father Purlton will discover Manuel's body, a small brown blight on the shining altar floor, head tilted and unnaturally gray eyes a color in concert with the peeling, chipped pillars which Manuel's eyes seem to follow as they stretch up, all the way to the glimmering apse above his still form to the place it all rises to:  Music, incense and tear-stained prayers, both the spoken kind and the silent.

The Place It All Rises To by Mark A. Brown is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. 

copyright 2009 by Mark A. Brown

Furloughed!

Today is my last day of work until June 7th.  We are having our summer furlough, part of our "cost-cutting measures".  I work for a nonprofit arts organization, so...whatever.

I am hoping for SUN next week during the furlough so that I can lay by the pool and read, but it's not looking too good for that.  SO I guess I'll load up on movies!  And chocolate.  Probably do some photography.

I think Shawn should come visit me that week.

Tales

I am a HUGE fan of writer Armistead Maupin.  Not only for his Tales of the City series of books, but his other books as well:  Maybe the Moon and The Night Listener.  If you haven't read the Tales books, well...you must.

If you have read them, then surely you know there was another Tales book released a couple of years ago, called Michael Tolliver Lives.   That book just made me sit and weep with joy, because it was great, and also because it was the only book I'd ever read that addressed the lives of people like me:  Older gay guy who has survived hiv (so far). 

Well, now I have learned - and I am THRILLED to let you know (if you haven't heard)....MR. MAUPIN IS DOING YET ANOTHER TALES OF THE CITY BOOK!!!!   It's called Mary Ann in Autumn: A Tales of the City Novel, and it is being released in November.  I am beyond excited.  I am beside myself.  I can't wait til November.

Between now and then, I will re-read ALL the Tales books.

Interestingly, Armistead Maupin claimed that the last book, Michael Tolliver Lives, was NOT a Tales of the City novel, even though the characters were all Tales characters  I presume he didn't want it compared to the rest of the series, for some reason.  But this new novel has Tales of the City in the title, so...I think we can conclude that Michael Tolliver was a Tales book.

There is also a stage musical adaptation of Tales in the works...can NOT wait for that!

Love me some Tales.  Thank you, Mr. Maupin!

Fashion for Bears

I'm not much of a clotheshorse or fashion maven.  I do like to watch Project Runway, though.  AND,  I could definitely get into some of these clothes by bear designer Walter Van Beirendonck

  

  Cool stuff, Maynard!  DAMN those bear models are cute!

"'Til I Hear You Sing" from "Love Never Dies", the sequel to Phantom of the Opera

This song is fantastic.  I was OBSESSED with the Phantom of the Opera when it first came out in 1987 or so.  Now there is a sequel, and it is very good!

I Like

I like candy.  And Turtles.  That's all I have to say for the moment.

Gotta Move

Well, it's that time of year again.  The time of year when I obsess about wanting to move to a new city.  Like the song "Gotta Move" says:

Gotta move, got to get out
Gotta leave this town 
Gotta find some town
Some big new town
Some bright new town
Some new town with new places new lights
And most of all some new faces 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=udpu1jIxoX

Portland is a perfectly good city.  It's beautiful, progressive, full of art and music, bridges and rivers.  I have some good friends here and am fairly well-known in various communities:  Bears, Theater, etc.

But I just can't shake this feeling that I will never meet anyone here for a relationship (I'm entering my second decade as a single person).  And I do get tired of the rain.  Yes, it makes everything green and pretty and the air is fresh and clean.  But it rains A LOT here.

There are other cities where my income would go a lot farther, I'm thinking about Ft. Worth or St. Louis.  Maybe Austin.  My mother would like me closer to her, in Sacramento, but that city is, well, NOT progressive.  It is, however, close to San Francisco and Reno and L.A....a great city for going to other places. 

I'll be 50 in 3 years.  If I'm going to move somewhere, I think I need to do it by then. 

Until I make a decision, though, I'll be obsessively checking this website:  http.www.bestplaces.net.  I love this site for being able to compare cost of living between cities, and the other tools on the site.

Have a great week!

On An Island

There have always been people - bad people to be sure - who have said, regarding "others" they don't like, "Put 'em all on an island somewhere!"  Gays, jews, blacks, hiv positive individuals...

I wonder what would that island would be like, if in fact all the gays were shipped to one.  Would it be fabulous, glittery and full of music?  Would the "straight" world - sans gays - be gray and dull without us?

Would this Island of Gays be a fantastic tourist destination for straight people?   Would we allow them to visit, since they kicked us to the curb island?  Would we be allowed to go back and visit non-gay family and friends?

Would it just be gays, or would bisexual individuals be forced to go and live there, too.  Trans folk?

How would you imagine and island where all the gays were forced to go and live?  I wonder what the government would be like.

Tell me your thoughts, please.

Hands

I have a thing about hands; Particularly male hands.

I find them extraordinarily beautiful.

Meaty Paws, big vein-y hands.  Fat fingers.  Warm and strong.

One of the first things I notice when I meet a man are his hands.

Sometimes I stare at guys hands on the bus.  Today I took a surreptitious photo of a hot daddy on the bus.  The pic didn't turn out very well, but here it is:







I love my iPhone.

Lazy Day

Today I don't have to go anywhere.  No one is expecting me.  I like these kinds of days.

Along with this free time today, there are choices.  The DVR is full of programs waiting to be watched.  I have a movie from Blockbuster waiting to be viewed.  Books are stacked up that need to get read.  I should work on the play, the novel, the story...all these writing projects that are started and some that I haven't begun.  There is housework that has to be done, as well.

But the sun is out (this is significant here in Portland),  and a slight breeze is blowing in through the sliding glass door...

I may just have a nap.

Audition Adventure

My beautiful Ford Ranger pickup died, so I am now a pedestrian/bicyclist.  That's okay, but it sure makes getting around a different sort of adventure.  Especially when you have an audition...

I had an audition last night...at 10:00 pm on a Sunday evening (how weird is that?), for the musical Sweet Charity.  I had my song all prepared and rehearsed, it sounded good in the shower and as I was dressing.  I had my bus/bike route to the audition location all planned out.  I would ride my bicycle for three miles (across a very narrow bridge) to a place where I could catch a bus the rest of the way.  I loaded my head shot, resume, sheet music into a backpack and headed out.  I decided to take the bus that would get me there an hour earlier, so that I could relax, catch my breath and maybe go over my audition song a few times.

It started raining as I headed out, and I got to my bus stop without being killed.  Bus 35 was scheduled to arrive at 8:35.  Somewhere around 8:50 pm it finally showed up....and both racks that hold bicycles were FULL.   So now I have a choice:  Turn around and go home and just forget the whole thing, or ride the rest of the way on the bike, through the dark, twisty-hilly rainy highway that leads to Lake Oswego and hope I make it in time.

I chose the second option. Refusing to be benched because of a lack of a motor vehicle,  I pedaled my little heart out, pausing to walk the bike uphill and screaming as I careened down black, rain-slick curves.

I made it to the theater, wet, cold and out of breath.  There was no one waiting to audition, so instead of having a chance to tidy myself, warm up my throat and catch my breath, I was ushered directly into the room to face the panel and begin my audition.

I was game, so I sang.  I was sounding fine, and I was on point to turn in a great audition...until the very last high note...it came out sounding like "Froggy" from The Little Rascals.  It was horrible.  I began apologizing, explaining that I had to ride my bike, and was still kind of out of breath.  They asked me try again, and the note came out the same...a horrible, froggy croak.  Not pretty, not good.

"We'll let you know", came the reply from the sympathetic - if horrified - auditors.

Things change in life.  Being a performer in musical theater is something that I always have been.  That particular activity may now be something that is in my past.  This is terrifically difficult for me to accept.  But I think I may have to accept it:  I have not been cast in the last FOUR musicals I have auditioned for.  My voice just isn't what it used to be, at least not the soaring high notes that always got me cast.

Ah, well.  I still seem to be able to get cast in non-musical plays.  And I am still working on a script...it's possible that, in the future, my place in the theater will be offstage.  I don't know.  No more auditioning for musicals, though. I doubt that I will be cast in Sweet Charity.  And that's okay.

I will survive.

UPDATE 5/11/09 - The director called me today, and would love to have me at callbacks.  I may still get the part!  I'll let you know how it goes!

Welcome!

All right, time to get this blog going, yo.  Past time, really!

I had another blog, and it went through some unfortunate changes...all my fault, I kind of ruined it.  I won't be doing that this time...I've learned to be much more circumspect with what information goes on the blog!

Why is this blog called "This Little Record"?  Well, I work for a subscriber-based arts organization here in Portland, and when we send out the season renewal information to our subscribers for the new season, there is a CD included, with samples of music, and general information about the upcoming productions.  One little lady called me up after receiving her renewal packet and she was frantic:

"I'm calling because you sent me my seasonal renewal, but I don't know what to do about this little record inside!", she cried, referring to the informational CD.  "I don't have a record player this small to play this little record on!"

"It's a compact disc, Ma'am, do you have a compact disc player?", I asked.

"NO, nothing that would play a little small record like this!  Should I send it back to you, or bring it back down to the office?"

I assured the dear creature that it was okay to toss it away, or give it to someone else who might be interested in the information on the CD, but she was sure that she didn't know anyone who would have a little tiny record player to play the "little record".  

The phone call made me smile, and also made me realize that simple little things in life can be made so complicated and that I probably do this myself.  Also, the blog is a "little record" of my thoughts, days, evenings...afternoons.

So, thanks for reading the first post here...I plan it to be interesting, informative.  That's my hope.

Cheers, and happy weekend!