~Dany, Tia, Miranda, Dave, Matt, Collen, and Terry
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Merry Christmas & Happy Hanukkah!!!
Dear readers thank you for all your support. We are thankful to have continuous support from loved ones, who can enjoy all of our adventure through this blog. We wish you Happy Holiday's during this winter season. Happy New Years!!!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wedding
Final I have the Wedding!!! The video loaded after I converted the file to a smaller format. Oh technology your so smart.
~Dany
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Photos of The Road- Catch-Up
Big Nana (The Truck) breaks down in the middle of the desert
Terry realizes that Colleen is the best girlfriend ever
Our truck-stop Thanksgiving dinner
Terry and Dave ride motorcycles across the country
Reserved for Artists
Dany "Legs" Guy
Terry realizes that Colleen is the best girlfriend ever
Our truck-stop Thanksgiving dinner
Terry and Dave ride motorcycles across the country
Reserved for Artists
Dany "Legs" Guy
Friday, December 5, 2008
Las Vegas: So i'm guessing you guys aren't racist?
Las Vegas. A city of lights, lust, and gambling...basically the perfect place to spend an enchanted day off. Miranda, Dave, Matt, Dany and I decided to do a quick walking (crutching) tour of some of the strip. We walked (crutched) through Caesar's Palace where we had some yummy gelato and then we saw the fountain show at the Bellagio. At this point it became clear that our poor bunny needed some rest and relaxation so we went back to the hotel where she had some alone time in the room while Dany and I ventured to the hot tub.
Upon arrival we were informed that the jets were not working, but as the long as the tub was indeed hot we were sold. After a few moments Dave joined us followed by two unknown men. Dave's stay was brief and so Dany and I found ourselves alone with said men. One of the men can only be described as Beevus from Beevus and Butthead as he was super skinny, had obnoxiously blonde hair,and a very creepy smile. The other was a military man with a short brown buzz cut. After friendly small talk we found out that they are both from Orlando, Florida. Beevus works in construction while the other is currently serving in the military. They asked us about relationship status (ie. if Dany has a gf...giggle giggle) and why we were here in the first place. We explained the tour and so forth and eventually began to talk about Iraq. Military man explained that he is in constant rigorous training and spoke briefly about killing people in Iraq. Beevus replied, "It won't be good enough until we have killed every last one of those towel heads". Now...at this point Dany was doing his best to keep a straight face and because I where every single emotion blatantly on my sleeve for the world to see, i decided to put my horrified face in my hands. Beevus continued this conversation by showing us a burning cross tatoo on his shoulder which in this case was clear proof of his stance as a white supremest.
Beevus makes the astute observation that it becoming harder and harder for Dany and I to keep it together and in a last ditch effort to continue the conversation he poses the question, "So i'm guessing you guys aren't racist?"...to which I couldn't even formulate a response and to which Dany replied flatly, "no." Beevus asked this question as though he was hoping we would be, as though we would cry out, "but of course...isn't everybody?"
i mean...isn't everybody a little bit racist sometimes?
Alas poor Beevus, the answer is sometimes...not all the time.
~Tia
Upon arrival we were informed that the jets were not working, but as the long as the tub was indeed hot we were sold. After a few moments Dave joined us followed by two unknown men. Dave's stay was brief and so Dany and I found ourselves alone with said men. One of the men can only be described as Beevus from Beevus and Butthead as he was super skinny, had obnoxiously blonde hair,and a very creepy smile. The other was a military man with a short brown buzz cut. After friendly small talk we found out that they are both from Orlando, Florida. Beevus works in construction while the other is currently serving in the military. They asked us about relationship status (ie. if Dany has a gf...giggle giggle) and why we were here in the first place. We explained the tour and so forth and eventually began to talk about Iraq. Military man explained that he is in constant rigorous training and spoke briefly about killing people in Iraq. Beevus replied, "It won't be good enough until we have killed every last one of those towel heads". Now...at this point Dany was doing his best to keep a straight face and because I where every single emotion blatantly on my sleeve for the world to see, i decided to put my horrified face in my hands. Beevus continued this conversation by showing us a burning cross tatoo on his shoulder which in this case was clear proof of his stance as a white supremest.
Beevus makes the astute observation that it becoming harder and harder for Dany and I to keep it together and in a last ditch effort to continue the conversation he poses the question, "So i'm guessing you guys aren't racist?"...to which I couldn't even formulate a response and to which Dany replied flatly, "no." Beevus asked this question as though he was hoping we would be, as though we would cry out, "but of course...isn't everybody?"
i mean...isn't everybody a little bit racist sometimes?
Alas poor Beevus, the answer is sometimes...not all the time.
~Tia
Arizona
Where to begin. I’m writing this blog at 12:15 Pacific Time crossing the Mojave Desert in the truck listening to a German metal band called Ramstein. We departed Phoenix, AZ this afternoon at 4 pm for a 5 hour drive to Rancho Cucamongo, CA (real name). In theory we should have been there at 9 pm mountain time 8pm Pacific Time, so we should have arrived 4 hours ago. What went wrong you ask? Well rational adults, sit back and hear a tale.
Today’s adventure started, well… today. We don’t need any backstage hands for our show. It’s completely self-contained and the actors do anything that needs to be run backstage (which is minimal) however this morning we were given a stagehand named Zen to help us out. Zen was about 55, long hair in a pony tail held together by a decorative metal clasp, native American looking metal earrings and loved to make jokes that were not funny. Zen watched us do the show once and did nothing because we didn’t need him there. Then he watched us do the show again and did an even better job of doing nothing. I guess his name is fitting.
At lunch Zen started telling me jokes that weren’t funny and I pretended to laugh… like you do. Somehow we got onto a discussion of metaphysics which is a topic of great interest to me (that’s not a joke). As we talked Zen had some really interesting things to say. He talked about how the Trinity idea in Judeo-Christian beliefs mimics the make-up of atoms (3 separate parts creating one greater whole)… interesting and insightful. Then he went on to say something about numerical orders and how when you look closer at atomic make-up you keep finding a 6 and a 6 and then a 6. “666” he said, “the number of mankind.”
Time out.
Everyone knows that 666 is the number of the devil. I know this not because I’m religious or even believe in the devil but I now that 666 is the number of Satan because I own the Iron Maiden album “Number of the Beast” and it clearly states the following bible passage at the beginning of the title track,
(For effect please read the following passage aloud in your best heavy metal faux Shakespearean orator voice)
“Woe to you oh earth and sea, for the devil sends the beast with wrath for he knows the time is short. Let him who have understanding reckon the number of the beast for it is a human number. It’s number is six hundred and sixty-six.”
Then the bitchin’ guitar kicks in and Bruce Dickinson wails away on vocals. See!? So my first red flag about Zen was raised.
My next red flag about Zen was raised when he proceeded to tell Colleen and me that in 1989 he traveled to a different solar system. I told him that I have been meaning to travel to another solar system I just keep dragging my feet and need to just go and worry about the consequences of reality later. Apparently Zen traveled there at the speed of thought. He told me how many miles a second that is but I think that Zen’s thoughts may travel a little slower than most people’s because of how much pot he’s smoke. That being said, it’s still pretty fast. Zen explained to me that while in this other solar system he met The three suns. These giant gaseous balls of fire told him that they were not only the forefathers of our forefathers but that they were the forefathers of our solar system. Deep. Zen asked his spirit guide what that meant and his spirit guide whisked him back to earth at the speed of stoner thought and told him that he had to figure it out for himself. Zen then went on to tell Colleen and me that he really enjoyed talking to us. Apparently most people have a hard time talking about stuff like that. Who’d have thought? Then Zen gave me a business card with his website on it. The website is www.bethedream.net. Enjoy!
Now you might have thought that was more than enough crazy for one day, I know I thought so, but the day was just beginning. Later on our way out of Phoenix we needed to gas up before we hit the road. I needed to use the bathroom and apparently the gas station we picked didn’t have public bathrooms. This happens at a lot of gas stations and it’s bulls*&t. So I jaywalked across a state highway instead of using the crosswalk only 200 feet away. After I made it to the other side I promised God I would NEVER jaywalk across a highway again. Then went to clean the crap out of my pants in Walgreens bathroom. While walking through the parking lot I saw a 50 year old woman missing multiple teeth sitting in the side door of a minivan dressed in a brightly colored Snow White costume with braided pig-tails and clown make-up smoking a cigarette. If there hadn’t been a brown loaf of pure fear in my pants from jaywalking I would have stopped to ask where the over-the-hill Disney parade was. When I came back out I decided to keep my promise to God (or The three suns or whatever higher power) and use the crosswalk. When I got to the crosswalk who was there? Yup Trailer Park Snow White.
Snow White had a friend with her who saw me and said very assertively “Merry Christmas!” I smiled, returned the greeting and then waited for the signal to turn. Snow White’s friend then said twice as assertively, “Happy New year too!” This time I noticed that the two of them had really big signs with them made of wood with some sort of protest message painted on them with green and red paint. I learned that Snow White’s friend’s name was Bonnie but apparently she goes by AJ. Okay.
AJ Bonnie was sitting in one of those three-wheeled electric scooters that senior citizens ride around in. AJ Bonnie was about 5’6” and about 275 lbs with a very short haircut, a ball cap and a Tom Sellack moustache. AJ Bonnie told me that she and Ancient Snow White were protesting a Christmas tree lot just down the street that AJ Bonnie used to work at. According to her, AJ Bonnie used to be an outlaw but now she’s found Jesus. I loved that she used the word outlaw. I just kept imagining her with a black cowboy hat and a red hankerchief pulled up over her nose and mouth with a six-shooter chasing around Wells Fargo trucks and telling them to reach for the sky. AJ Bonnie told me that at one point she was number 9 on the FBI’s most wanted list but she recently “got legal.” (Don't you have to kill someone to make the FBI's top ten?) She said that after she got legal her employer, a crooked Christmas tree salesman, fired her because she was too good and would expose his unethical and possibly illegal practices. Apparently her employer uses lots of chemicals and pesticides to preserve the trees and these chemicals are the reason that AJ Bonnie can’t walk anymore.
This is where reality dropped in. I don’t know how much of AJ Bonnie’s story was true (although she did look like she could have killed and eaten me in a crazy-rage and then she and Trailer Park Snow White would eat my bones at a Schitzo party with other serial killers dressed as the Mad Hatter, Winnie the Pooh and man dressed as Cinerella) but it is clear that she didn’t have full use of her legs and she didn’t solicit me for money once (which was what I was expecting). She just told me not to buy a Christmas tree from her old boss and to tell everyone else not to buy Christmas trees from there. Then just when I was feeling really bad for AJ Bonnie she gave me some flyers to hand out to everyone I knew so they didn’t buy a Christmas tree from what sounds like the modern-day Grinch. To give you the full effect of the flyer I’ve transposed it in the exact syntax and page format as it appears written in sharpie on an 8 ½ x 11 sheet of paper.
I might not be Clyde
Or Bonnie
But wait a minute
I am Bonnie aka AJ
I’m not Thelma or Louise
Or these new outlaws
I have turned my life to
Christ
Because of Christmas trees and Santa
Might whoever that may be
I have a story to tell
Once was an outlaw
Now trying to live a life of
Christ
Once I got legal
And did a change
There was no need for me!!
It then goes on to list her phone number and mailing address. In the margins notes are written in pen that read “Donations Great” “Just started getting doctors” “Won’t have a holiday without you” “Fired!” As I said good-bye to toothless Snow-White and AJ Bonnie they asked me to hand out about 20-25 flyers. So far I’ve left at least 7 of them on fast-food restaurant tables, truck stop bathrooms and a few windshields so that the rest of Arizona and Southern California can experience the crazy with me.
After we escaped Zen, AJ Bonnie and Crazy Clown edition Snow White we stopped at a truck-stop for dinner. Matt mentioned that the truck’s temperature gauge was getting pretty hot. We bought some coolant and had to wait one hour for the truck to cool down. We got milkshakes at Carl’s Jr where about 9 local police officers had come right after a paintball tournament wearing shirts that said “Police” on the front and “The Enforcers” on the back and were covered in paint. We went back to the truck, filled it up with coolant and hit the road. About ¼ of a mile down the road from the truck-stop the truck overheated and died. We could see the truck-stop we came from but couldn’t get back to it without the truck possibly catching fire and walking was out of the question because at night in the desert there are SCORPIONS! At this point I began to believe that it was my destiny to die in Arizona and I just wasn’t taking the hints given to me all day.
We called a tow truck who showed up in less than 5 minutes but he didn’t have the parts to fix the truck so he disappeared for an HOUR AND A HALF while we crammed 7 people into a van that comfortably fits 5 people and the scorpion parade was in full effect outside of the van. After taking a nap with my head up Dave’s butt and my foot in jammed into Dany’s mouth the tow truck guy came back and fixed the truck and gave us the following guarantee,
“It might make it to China or it might make it ten miles.”
Whatever happened to lying? I remember in the good ol’ days a tow truck guy would lie to you to make you feel like you would live. So I ran across the scorpions got in the truck and here we are in the middle of the Mojave. Maybe we’ll make it to China or maybe Arizona will get me after all. If you’re reading this online I guess I lived, if you are a member of the FBI and you found this laptop in a pile of wrecked truck, theatrical supplies, puppets and scorpions I guess Arizona has claimed me. It’s only 20 miles to California… RUN.
-Terry
Today’s adventure started, well… today. We don’t need any backstage hands for our show. It’s completely self-contained and the actors do anything that needs to be run backstage (which is minimal) however this morning we were given a stagehand named Zen to help us out. Zen was about 55, long hair in a pony tail held together by a decorative metal clasp, native American looking metal earrings and loved to make jokes that were not funny. Zen watched us do the show once and did nothing because we didn’t need him there. Then he watched us do the show again and did an even better job of doing nothing. I guess his name is fitting.
At lunch Zen started telling me jokes that weren’t funny and I pretended to laugh… like you do. Somehow we got onto a discussion of metaphysics which is a topic of great interest to me (that’s not a joke). As we talked Zen had some really interesting things to say. He talked about how the Trinity idea in Judeo-Christian beliefs mimics the make-up of atoms (3 separate parts creating one greater whole)… interesting and insightful. Then he went on to say something about numerical orders and how when you look closer at atomic make-up you keep finding a 6 and a 6 and then a 6. “666” he said, “the number of mankind.”
Time out.
Everyone knows that 666 is the number of the devil. I know this not because I’m religious or even believe in the devil but I now that 666 is the number of Satan because I own the Iron Maiden album “Number of the Beast” and it clearly states the following bible passage at the beginning of the title track,
(For effect please read the following passage aloud in your best heavy metal faux Shakespearean orator voice)
“Woe to you oh earth and sea, for the devil sends the beast with wrath for he knows the time is short. Let him who have understanding reckon the number of the beast for it is a human number. It’s number is six hundred and sixty-six.”
Then the bitchin’ guitar kicks in and Bruce Dickinson wails away on vocals. See!? So my first red flag about Zen was raised.
My next red flag about Zen was raised when he proceeded to tell Colleen and me that in 1989 he traveled to a different solar system. I told him that I have been meaning to travel to another solar system I just keep dragging my feet and need to just go and worry about the consequences of reality later. Apparently Zen traveled there at the speed of thought. He told me how many miles a second that is but I think that Zen’s thoughts may travel a little slower than most people’s because of how much pot he’s smoke. That being said, it’s still pretty fast. Zen explained to me that while in this other solar system he met The three suns. These giant gaseous balls of fire told him that they were not only the forefathers of our forefathers but that they were the forefathers of our solar system. Deep. Zen asked his spirit guide what that meant and his spirit guide whisked him back to earth at the speed of stoner thought and told him that he had to figure it out for himself. Zen then went on to tell Colleen and me that he really enjoyed talking to us. Apparently most people have a hard time talking about stuff like that. Who’d have thought? Then Zen gave me a business card with his website on it. The website is www.bethedream.net. Enjoy!
Now you might have thought that was more than enough crazy for one day, I know I thought so, but the day was just beginning. Later on our way out of Phoenix we needed to gas up before we hit the road. I needed to use the bathroom and apparently the gas station we picked didn’t have public bathrooms. This happens at a lot of gas stations and it’s bulls*&t. So I jaywalked across a state highway instead of using the crosswalk only 200 feet away. After I made it to the other side I promised God I would NEVER jaywalk across a highway again. Then went to clean the crap out of my pants in Walgreens bathroom. While walking through the parking lot I saw a 50 year old woman missing multiple teeth sitting in the side door of a minivan dressed in a brightly colored Snow White costume with braided pig-tails and clown make-up smoking a cigarette. If there hadn’t been a brown loaf of pure fear in my pants from jaywalking I would have stopped to ask where the over-the-hill Disney parade was. When I came back out I decided to keep my promise to God (or The three suns or whatever higher power) and use the crosswalk. When I got to the crosswalk who was there? Yup Trailer Park Snow White.
Snow White had a friend with her who saw me and said very assertively “Merry Christmas!” I smiled, returned the greeting and then waited for the signal to turn. Snow White’s friend then said twice as assertively, “Happy New year too!” This time I noticed that the two of them had really big signs with them made of wood with some sort of protest message painted on them with green and red paint. I learned that Snow White’s friend’s name was Bonnie but apparently she goes by AJ. Okay.
AJ Bonnie was sitting in one of those three-wheeled electric scooters that senior citizens ride around in. AJ Bonnie was about 5’6” and about 275 lbs with a very short haircut, a ball cap and a Tom Sellack moustache. AJ Bonnie told me that she and Ancient Snow White were protesting a Christmas tree lot just down the street that AJ Bonnie used to work at. According to her, AJ Bonnie used to be an outlaw but now she’s found Jesus. I loved that she used the word outlaw. I just kept imagining her with a black cowboy hat and a red hankerchief pulled up over her nose and mouth with a six-shooter chasing around Wells Fargo trucks and telling them to reach for the sky. AJ Bonnie told me that at one point she was number 9 on the FBI’s most wanted list but she recently “got legal.” (Don't you have to kill someone to make the FBI's top ten?) She said that after she got legal her employer, a crooked Christmas tree salesman, fired her because she was too good and would expose his unethical and possibly illegal practices. Apparently her employer uses lots of chemicals and pesticides to preserve the trees and these chemicals are the reason that AJ Bonnie can’t walk anymore.
This is where reality dropped in. I don’t know how much of AJ Bonnie’s story was true (although she did look like she could have killed and eaten me in a crazy-rage and then she and Trailer Park Snow White would eat my bones at a Schitzo party with other serial killers dressed as the Mad Hatter, Winnie the Pooh and man dressed as Cinerella) but it is clear that she didn’t have full use of her legs and she didn’t solicit me for money once (which was what I was expecting). She just told me not to buy a Christmas tree from her old boss and to tell everyone else not to buy Christmas trees from there. Then just when I was feeling really bad for AJ Bonnie she gave me some flyers to hand out to everyone I knew so they didn’t buy a Christmas tree from what sounds like the modern-day Grinch. To give you the full effect of the flyer I’ve transposed it in the exact syntax and page format as it appears written in sharpie on an 8 ½ x 11 sheet of paper.
I might not be Clyde
Or Bonnie
But wait a minute
I am Bonnie aka AJ
I’m not Thelma or Louise
Or these new outlaws
I have turned my life to
Christ
Because of Christmas trees and Santa
Might whoever that may be
I have a story to tell
Once was an outlaw
Now trying to live a life of
Christ
Once I got legal
And did a change
There was no need for me!!
It then goes on to list her phone number and mailing address. In the margins notes are written in pen that read “Donations Great” “Just started getting doctors” “Won’t have a holiday without you” “Fired!” As I said good-bye to toothless Snow-White and AJ Bonnie they asked me to hand out about 20-25 flyers. So far I’ve left at least 7 of them on fast-food restaurant tables, truck stop bathrooms and a few windshields so that the rest of Arizona and Southern California can experience the crazy with me.
After we escaped Zen, AJ Bonnie and Crazy Clown edition Snow White we stopped at a truck-stop for dinner. Matt mentioned that the truck’s temperature gauge was getting pretty hot. We bought some coolant and had to wait one hour for the truck to cool down. We got milkshakes at Carl’s Jr where about 9 local police officers had come right after a paintball tournament wearing shirts that said “Police” on the front and “The Enforcers” on the back and were covered in paint. We went back to the truck, filled it up with coolant and hit the road. About ¼ of a mile down the road from the truck-stop the truck overheated and died. We could see the truck-stop we came from but couldn’t get back to it without the truck possibly catching fire and walking was out of the question because at night in the desert there are SCORPIONS! At this point I began to believe that it was my destiny to die in Arizona and I just wasn’t taking the hints given to me all day.
We called a tow truck who showed up in less than 5 minutes but he didn’t have the parts to fix the truck so he disappeared for an HOUR AND A HALF while we crammed 7 people into a van that comfortably fits 5 people and the scorpion parade was in full effect outside of the van. After taking a nap with my head up Dave’s butt and my foot in jammed into Dany’s mouth the tow truck guy came back and fixed the truck and gave us the following guarantee,
“It might make it to China or it might make it ten miles.”
Whatever happened to lying? I remember in the good ol’ days a tow truck guy would lie to you to make you feel like you would live. So I ran across the scorpions got in the truck and here we are in the middle of the Mojave. Maybe we’ll make it to China or maybe Arizona will get me after all. If you’re reading this online I guess I lived, if you are a member of the FBI and you found this laptop in a pile of wrecked truck, theatrical supplies, puppets and scorpions I guess Arizona has claimed me. It’s only 20 miles to California… RUN.
-Terry
Monday, December 1, 2008
My Achilles Ankle
We came to Elyria, OH after the busiest week of our tour. We had been in Pittsburgh, PA for five days at five different venues and had performed seven shows. All that stood between us and our comparatively vacation-like drive across the country were two tiny shows in Elyria. We loaded in Sunday night and came to the theatre Monday morning ready to kick the shows out of the water. The space was perfect, the crew was sassy and wonderful, and the kids were excited. The shows were probably two of our best. I was really proud that all of us in the cast could rise above our exhaustion and still perform a great story. That pride was filling me as I turned to exit the stage for the last time. I executed my tombe, pas de bourre, glissade and grand jete into the wings. As I flew through the air I thought, “this is it! A great performance and now five whole days of rest for my poor body.” Then, I landed.
My final exit has always made me uncomfortable. I have to leap into the black wings basically blind because my eyes are adjusted to the very bright light of the stage. Several times I have nearly hurt myself. On Monday, November 24, 2008, I did hurt myself. Because I couldn’t see where I was going, I landed on the bottom of the “leg” curtain. Theatre curtains are weighted with chains so that they don’t blow around during performances. My right foot came down on the chain with all the force of my leap, buckled, and twisted under me. The next few moments were complete confusion. Pain shot up to my ears. The cast had all seen what happened and whispered questions about my well-being. I can’t remember how I responded, but it was enough that they knew I wasn’t ok. Dave grabbed me a chair before he got on-stage for his bow, and I sat and tried not to think about the worst-case scenario.
It wasn’t the worst-case scenario. The clinic doctor described my condition as a high-grade sprain. Nothing was broken or torn, just badly twisted and over stretched. I know it may sound strange, but some of my favorite memories of my fellow company members are from the hours immediately following my injury. Emergencies tend to bring out either the worst or best in a person and every single member of the company shone as they helped me. They did, apparently, forget how to do our curtain call without me leading them, and awkwardly looked at each other before taking hands (something we have never done) and slowly bowing. Aside from that, they were exactly the people I needed to have surrounding me. Dave was at his best as two parts of his personality appeared. His gruff stunt man came out when, immediately after I knew I was badly hurt, he bluntly told me to sit down and that I was OK. His tone of voice and command were exactly what I needed because I had frozen in place and was truly panicking. Later, the warm company manager Dave came out as we drove to the ER and he told me funny stories to cheer me up. He then carried me into the emergency room. A very old main in the waiting room yelled to me, “It’s lucky you’ve got a muscle man!” Dany proved his superior survival skills in the minutes after the show had ended. While the others on stage waffled about how to best move me into the dressing room to change, Dany scooped me up into his arms as though I weighed no more than a teddy bear. He brought me to the dressing room, set me on a chair, and exclaimed, “Could everyone please leave?! I’m going to undress her now.” And, he did. In my regular clothes, I was still very panicky and asked Dany to bring me some water. Instead he brought me a juice box because he knew that the sugar would calm me down. I couldn’t believe it, but in minutes I was breathing normally. It was the straightest hour of Dany Guy’s life. Dany left to change out of his own costume, and I looked up at the girls of our tour. Colleen came over to put her arms around me, and I completely broke down. As I was starting to cry Colleen said, “Yes, Miranda. Cry. You just cry as hard as you can. Don’t you stop until you get it all out.”
Before we left for the hospital Dave and Terry arrived from the drug store bearing gifts of ibuprofen, ice packs, and ace bandages. These two men, who spend a lot of time talking about martial arts and punching each other, also brought me a big red balloon and a box of candy canes. They then told me that if I ever did the jump off-stage at the end of the show again, they would punch me in the ankle. Tia, my wife, was the member of the company who stayed with me at the hospital. We waited and waited and then waited some more. As we were sitting there, I tried very hard not to consider the possibility that my ankle was broken. I tried so hard not to think about it that it was the only thing on my mind. In an effort to distract me, Tia picked up a coloring book meant for a kid who was going to the emergency room for the first time. She began to read it aloud to me, even showing me the pictures as though it was first grade story time. We got to the page about the reasons a person may go to the emergency room. Tia read, “You may have to visit the E.R. if you fall down, or if you bump your head, or even if you may have…,” here Tia paused before finishing, “twisted a bone.” She then finished the story substituting different phrases any time the possibility of breaking a bone was mentioned. She actually skipped an entire page. What a wife. After I was finally looked at and ex-rayed, (nothing broken, a high grade sprain, crutches and an air cast), I crutched out to the waiting room to find my entire company smiling at me. As we left, Matt turned and said, “don’t worry, Miranda, you’re replacement is already on her way in.” It wasn’t true, of course, but it kept me chuckling as we walked to the van.
…. One week later the ankle is healing well. I’m off crutches and did two shows yesterday. Around the ankle bone is still pretty swollen, but the rest of my foot is normally sized, and some very pretty greens and blues are starting to appear. I’ll be sure to up-date the blog with any changes in its condition.
~ Miranda
My final exit has always made me uncomfortable. I have to leap into the black wings basically blind because my eyes are adjusted to the very bright light of the stage. Several times I have nearly hurt myself. On Monday, November 24, 2008, I did hurt myself. Because I couldn’t see where I was going, I landed on the bottom of the “leg” curtain. Theatre curtains are weighted with chains so that they don’t blow around during performances. My right foot came down on the chain with all the force of my leap, buckled, and twisted under me. The next few moments were complete confusion. Pain shot up to my ears. The cast had all seen what happened and whispered questions about my well-being. I can’t remember how I responded, but it was enough that they knew I wasn’t ok. Dave grabbed me a chair before he got on-stage for his bow, and I sat and tried not to think about the worst-case scenario.
It wasn’t the worst-case scenario. The clinic doctor described my condition as a high-grade sprain. Nothing was broken or torn, just badly twisted and over stretched. I know it may sound strange, but some of my favorite memories of my fellow company members are from the hours immediately following my injury. Emergencies tend to bring out either the worst or best in a person and every single member of the company shone as they helped me. They did, apparently, forget how to do our curtain call without me leading them, and awkwardly looked at each other before taking hands (something we have never done) and slowly bowing. Aside from that, they were exactly the people I needed to have surrounding me. Dave was at his best as two parts of his personality appeared. His gruff stunt man came out when, immediately after I knew I was badly hurt, he bluntly told me to sit down and that I was OK. His tone of voice and command were exactly what I needed because I had frozen in place and was truly panicking. Later, the warm company manager Dave came out as we drove to the ER and he told me funny stories to cheer me up. He then carried me into the emergency room. A very old main in the waiting room yelled to me, “It’s lucky you’ve got a muscle man!” Dany proved his superior survival skills in the minutes after the show had ended. While the others on stage waffled about how to best move me into the dressing room to change, Dany scooped me up into his arms as though I weighed no more than a teddy bear. He brought me to the dressing room, set me on a chair, and exclaimed, “Could everyone please leave?! I’m going to undress her now.” And, he did. In my regular clothes, I was still very panicky and asked Dany to bring me some water. Instead he brought me a juice box because he knew that the sugar would calm me down. I couldn’t believe it, but in minutes I was breathing normally. It was the straightest hour of Dany Guy’s life. Dany left to change out of his own costume, and I looked up at the girls of our tour. Colleen came over to put her arms around me, and I completely broke down. As I was starting to cry Colleen said, “Yes, Miranda. Cry. You just cry as hard as you can. Don’t you stop until you get it all out.”
Before we left for the hospital Dave and Terry arrived from the drug store bearing gifts of ibuprofen, ice packs, and ace bandages. These two men, who spend a lot of time talking about martial arts and punching each other, also brought me a big red balloon and a box of candy canes. They then told me that if I ever did the jump off-stage at the end of the show again, they would punch me in the ankle. Tia, my wife, was the member of the company who stayed with me at the hospital. We waited and waited and then waited some more. As we were sitting there, I tried very hard not to consider the possibility that my ankle was broken. I tried so hard not to think about it that it was the only thing on my mind. In an effort to distract me, Tia picked up a coloring book meant for a kid who was going to the emergency room for the first time. She began to read it aloud to me, even showing me the pictures as though it was first grade story time. We got to the page about the reasons a person may go to the emergency room. Tia read, “You may have to visit the E.R. if you fall down, or if you bump your head, or even if you may have…,” here Tia paused before finishing, “twisted a bone.” She then finished the story substituting different phrases any time the possibility of breaking a bone was mentioned. She actually skipped an entire page. What a wife. After I was finally looked at and ex-rayed, (nothing broken, a high grade sprain, crutches and an air cast), I crutched out to the waiting room to find my entire company smiling at me. As we left, Matt turned and said, “don’t worry, Miranda, you’re replacement is already on her way in.” It wasn’t true, of course, but it kept me chuckling as we walked to the van.
…. One week later the ankle is healing well. I’m off crutches and did two shows yesterday. Around the ankle bone is still pretty swollen, but the rest of my foot is normally sized, and some very pretty greens and blues are starting to appear. I’ll be sure to up-date the blog with any changes in its condition.
~ Miranda
Saturday, November 29, 2008
All Together Now
All together now
On a recent break from tour (one day exactly) I went and saw a high school production of Pippin that was choreographed by Colleen’s sister. If you haven’t checked out the high school theatre scene in your area… do it. If you really love yourself RUN don’t walk to catch Guys and Dolls, or State Fair or maybe if you’re really lucky maybe they’ll do CATS.
Now let it be known that the choreography was great! Not just because it was my girlfriend’s sister, it was actually quite good. Dance is something that is hard to fake, either you look good moving or you don’t… and the kids looked really good. And that is the last positive thing I will have to say for this blog entry.
So for starters the school was doing Pippin. I’m sorry if I offend any musical theatre types but Pippin sucks. It’s like a boring, meandering and anti-climactic version of Camelot. It’s like King Arthur minus everything good and starring Ashton Kutcher. So why would anyone want to do this hodgepodge of poop? Well apparently the story is lacking (and I mean LACKING) but the music is very good. Which brings me to my next point.
If you choose a show because the music is stellar you might want to cast someone who can make sounds on command. The actor playing Pippin could not sing. He wasn’t awful. It’s not like he sounded like a disabled monkey being raped by a bear, however there were a few very important and climactic notes that Pippin could not hit. You could hear the notes coming a mile away and you knew he wouldn’t hit them. It was the musical equivalent of watching someone with leg-braces jump hurdles. You were REALLY hoping this was the hurdle they were going to clear and each time you winced in sympathy when they landed square on their teeth and then the cycle would repeat itself.
So could Pippin act? Well… yes, however Pippin knew he couldn’t sing. And the audience knew that Pippin knew that Pippin couldn’t sing. And Pippin knew that the audience knew that he knew that he Pippin knew he couldn’t sing. To add to all of that, the audience might have known that Pippin knew that too. You get the idea?
The only saving grace was that the choreography was good and I mean REALLY GOOD but unfortunately the cast couldn’t dance forever. During the first act there were 4 dance routines that not only convinced me not to bite my own tongue off and swallow it but tricked me into thinking that the show would turn around but each time they would stop dancing and start talking, or even worse Pippin would sing. To make things worse, the second act of Pippin has just as many dance routines as Fox News has fairness and balance. So once again the thought of poisoning myself with my own feces in the bathroom crept back into my mind.
Between dance routines as I looked around the room for entertainment and reasons to live I noticed a man in the orchestra pit shaking violently. Upon further inspection he seemed to be conducting. I say “seemed to be conducting” because there was NO ONE PLAYING INSTRUMENTS! Now since that’s bats#^t crazy I figured I just couln’t see the high school band. In the second act we all moved to empty seats in the second row to take a closer look. It was a confirmed crazy sighting. I’m talking Mrs. Havisham crazy and since there were no dance routines in the second act I was able to spend most my time watching Conductor Boo Radley. I feel that one of the greatest educational experiences a person can have is to watch someone who is absolutely clinically clusterf#*k crazy in their natural environment. It was stunning; like a view from a mountaintop or watching Rome burn. This man was standing in a center-stage pit, lit up, in front of about 300 people conducting furiously to Macintosh computer that only required him to press ENTER when it was time for Pippin to howl at the moon.
The real tragedy of Pippin was that if the show was orchestrated on Garage Band, couldn’t conductor Boo Radley have dropped the songs into a key that Pippin could hit?!! If you’re going to do a terrible show that has great music then cast a kid who sings like a cripple runs and orchestrate the entire score of the show on your laptop THROW THE KID A F%*KING BONE! That’s like riding a golf cart past an old woman whose leg YOU BROKE and telling her that you’ll meet her at the hospital.
On a recent break from tour (one day exactly) I went and saw a high school production of Pippin that was choreographed by Colleen’s sister. If you haven’t checked out the high school theatre scene in your area… do it. If you really love yourself RUN don’t walk to catch Guys and Dolls, or State Fair or maybe if you’re really lucky maybe they’ll do CATS.
Now let it be known that the choreography was great! Not just because it was my girlfriend’s sister, it was actually quite good. Dance is something that is hard to fake, either you look good moving or you don’t… and the kids looked really good. And that is the last positive thing I will have to say for this blog entry.
So for starters the school was doing Pippin. I’m sorry if I offend any musical theatre types but Pippin sucks. It’s like a boring, meandering and anti-climactic version of Camelot. It’s like King Arthur minus everything good and starring Ashton Kutcher. So why would anyone want to do this hodgepodge of poop? Well apparently the story is lacking (and I mean LACKING) but the music is very good. Which brings me to my next point.
If you choose a show because the music is stellar you might want to cast someone who can make sounds on command. The actor playing Pippin could not sing. He wasn’t awful. It’s not like he sounded like a disabled monkey being raped by a bear, however there were a few very important and climactic notes that Pippin could not hit. You could hear the notes coming a mile away and you knew he wouldn’t hit them. It was the musical equivalent of watching someone with leg-braces jump hurdles. You were REALLY hoping this was the hurdle they were going to clear and each time you winced in sympathy when they landed square on their teeth and then the cycle would repeat itself.
So could Pippin act? Well… yes, however Pippin knew he couldn’t sing. And the audience knew that Pippin knew that Pippin couldn’t sing. And Pippin knew that the audience knew that he knew that he Pippin knew he couldn’t sing. To add to all of that, the audience might have known that Pippin knew that too. You get the idea?
The only saving grace was that the choreography was good and I mean REALLY GOOD but unfortunately the cast couldn’t dance forever. During the first act there were 4 dance routines that not only convinced me not to bite my own tongue off and swallow it but tricked me into thinking that the show would turn around but each time they would stop dancing and start talking, or even worse Pippin would sing. To make things worse, the second act of Pippin has just as many dance routines as Fox News has fairness and balance. So once again the thought of poisoning myself with my own feces in the bathroom crept back into my mind.
Between dance routines as I looked around the room for entertainment and reasons to live I noticed a man in the orchestra pit shaking violently. Upon further inspection he seemed to be conducting. I say “seemed to be conducting” because there was NO ONE PLAYING INSTRUMENTS! Now since that’s bats#^t crazy I figured I just couln’t see the high school band. In the second act we all moved to empty seats in the second row to take a closer look. It was a confirmed crazy sighting. I’m talking Mrs. Havisham crazy and since there were no dance routines in the second act I was able to spend most my time watching Conductor Boo Radley. I feel that one of the greatest educational experiences a person can have is to watch someone who is absolutely clinically clusterf#*k crazy in their natural environment. It was stunning; like a view from a mountaintop or watching Rome burn. This man was standing in a center-stage pit, lit up, in front of about 300 people conducting furiously to Macintosh computer that only required him to press ENTER when it was time for Pippin to howl at the moon.
The real tragedy of Pippin was that if the show was orchestrated on Garage Band, couldn’t conductor Boo Radley have dropped the songs into a key that Pippin could hit?!! If you’re going to do a terrible show that has great music then cast a kid who sings like a cripple runs and orchestrate the entire score of the show on your laptop THROW THE KID A F%*KING BONE! That’s like riding a golf cart past an old woman whose leg YOU BROKE and telling her that you’ll meet her at the hospital.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
"I Don't even like gas, I don't even know what gas is, gas gives me hives"
So i convinced Tia, Terry, and Colleen to come to the gay club Pegasus in Pittsburgh after a long day of load in, children's show, load out. We figured there should be some time for Party hard in this mix. Little did I know the adventure that was to occur. We got to a minute away from our destination and ran out of gas in the van. Then tried to ask locals where the nearest gas station was, while using the GPS. We tried three places before we found an open gas station. Mind you, we would never have found said station, had Terry not got out of the van at gas station number 2 and looked around. Finally after our extreme adventure of driving up the steepest hills in Pittsburgh with no gas, we made it to Pegasus. Not considering the day of the week we found the bar mostly empty. We got over it pretty quick and had ourselves some drinks to relax from our very stressful ride over. While sitting at the bar we noticed a rather attractive Go-Go boy who wasn't really doing any dancing. At one point a creepy 40 something-year-old man sat down next to the Go-Go boy. Eventually, we all went over to talk to Go-Go boy to give him company other than the creepy man. Go-Go boy turned out to have a name other than Go-Go Boy (go figure). It was Jay. We talked to Jay and the female bar tender for a little while and found Jay also did children's theatre and was a dancer. After some nice chit-chatting we called it a night. Jay said to come back on Friday because it would be more eventful and he wouldn't have to be working. At this point I may have given him my number (readers choice). We then returned to our lovely hotel rooms at the Crown Plaza. From this night we learned: 1. make sure you have gas before driving into a city. 2. The GPS doesn't always know where you are. 3. Dana Cook's Comedy can relate to any situation.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Eyes
So Miranda, Tia, and I went into New York today. After performing twice this morning. Sidebar, both performances went really well and the talkback after the second show was awesome. Anyways, they both told me we should go into the city and as our usual social coordinator i thought it would be nice to just follow for a change. So we got into the city and had a very nice dinner at some random restaurant (I don't know the name because I was on the phone when they were picking and I just followed). We then went our own ways. I met up with Kennedy and we went to visit Joel at the restaurant he works at. This led to my current buzzed state. After some delightful wine I headed downtown to meet up with the girls and head home.
This leads me to my blog topic. The eye are a very interesting part of the human "pick up" process. We were sitting on the PATH train attempting to get home and at one of our change overs Tia noticed a very cute man checking me out. I eventually noticed Mr. Eyes as well. Then we got on our transfer and he stood right near us. Which led to our back and forth eye tennis. I would look at him and he would catch me looking. Then he would look at me and I would catch him. We would lock gaze for 5 seconds and I would smile. Then he would smile back. Then i might of winked (I can't help that I'm a flirt.) This is the most interesting game that everyone plays in life at some point or another. I even "dragged my feet" after getting off the train walking to our taxi to see if he would do anything. I used the quotes there because Miranda said that. I don't think I was dragging my feet, just walking a little slower than usual. Have you ever wanted to just walk up to someone that has been starring at you in a public setting and write your number on their hand or something. Well the thought crossed my mind, and I did have a pen in my pocket. But alas I was not that bold. How do people meet through public settings? Were does the boldness come from of just talking to a stranger. I mean its a big enough step to assume that the other person might be interested. Little lone and the fact of their sexual persuasion into the mix and the odds are against you. How to people meet in a public setting? It is such a simple concept, that seems so challenging in practice. Mr. Eyes got into a cab and made no advances, so lord know where he ended up. For a brief while our cabs were following one another. But eventually due to stop lights he was gone off into the distance. Life is strange. This Blog makes no sense but I'm sure you'll get over it. I just needed to vent about the random happenings of life. Hope you enjoy. Sorry the Wedding video isn't up i will try my hardest to put in on the blog. Recently the internet at our hotels hasn't been strong enough. But eventually I will win. good night people
~Dany
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Ben And Jerry's Part 2
Here is part two. You catch us mid conquest. You will notice some where doing there part to finish of the ice cream better than others. ENJOY!!!
~Dany
Friday, November 7, 2008
Ben and Jerry's Part 1
This fine people is the beginning of the Vermontster. I apologize for the lack of editing. enjoy!!
~Dany
New London to Burlington: A Synopsis
Halloween (New London): Miranda- Farm Girl, Tia- Last Leaf of Autumn, Tyler (Tia's BF)- Dany Guy, Dave- Ghost of Nomar Garcia-Parra, Terry- Fear/The Republican Agenda, Colleen- Sarah Palin, Dany- Bristol Palin (her pregnant daughter). Drinks were had at a local pub in Mystic, CT. Then the fun moved to Foxwoods casino which is like the Emerald City. There several of us entered a very biased costume competition which none of us won. Who wants $200 worth of Hard Rock merchandise any way?
Dinner with the Guys (New London): Dinner with Dany's parents and sister, that is. The lovely Guys took us to a family style BBQ restaurant outside of New London. Lisa was kind enough to supply us with plenty of beer and cookies. The food was great and much fun was had by all.
Burlington (Burlington): This is one cool town with a beautiful little theatre. The local union crew all looked like pirates and were one of the nicest and most efficient crews we worked with. However, Tom (who looked like Johnny Depp and fixed our Magic Table)(and thus we loved him) was perhaps too efficient. He packed our Magic Table with only THREE LEGS!..... what do we learn here? Stay off of drugs, kids. Also another "efficient" crew member dropped a cable ramp on Miranda's head giving her a mild concussion. Ouch. And then there was Leo. mmm.
Ben and Jerry's (Near Burlington): Vermonster= 20 scoops of ice cream, 4 cookies, large brownies, 4 bananas, 4 toppings, lots of hot fudge, lots of walnuts, and whipped cream. The 7 of us ate it in 20 minutes. There is a video to come. Much fun. On the way out of the parking lot Tia "dinged" the van. That's all we need to say.
The Wedding (Somewhere, MA): In honor of last year's tour and following Jamie's wishes, the second ever Velveteen Rabbit/Religion of Concentric Circles gay wedding was had in a Friendly's parking-lot. (A lovely atmosphere) Miranda and Tia exchanged vows written on place-mats and presented each other with rings made of 14 carat straw wrapper. Terry presided as a Low Priest of the Religion of Concentric Circles. Dany gave away Tia while Colleen sent off Miranda. Dave made a beautiful flower girl, and Matt provided music and videoed the entire ceremony. Video to come. (Dany, get on it!)
Tia and Miranda are accepting gifts at this time. Check out Victoriassecret.com for registry.
~ Miranda and Tia
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Christian Pornography
What happens when you and your girlfriend google the term "Christian Pornography"?
Some pretty great stuff!
Usually the two words were in the same paragraph describing the Christian response
to mainstream pornography. It never described actual pornography by and for
Christians... except for one sight.
www.sexinchrist.com
My friends if you have not been to sexinchrist.com I STRONGLY URGE YOU TO GO.
Please please please go today! Sexinchrist.com is a website dedicated
to the scriptural justification of everything sexual under the sun and then
a little. You can't make up what is found on this site.
I fear that I can't do justice to what I found there...
but I'll try anyway.
It doesn't say who runs the site. This is a shame. I almost wish there were
pictures of the men (and believe me it's men that run this site) who have taken
the time out of their clearly under-sexed lives to find scriptural precedent for
pornography of a Christian persuasion, Christian bondage or why God wants us
to masturbate (in a Christian manner of course). I imagine these men would look
like the owner of the comic book store in The Simpsons.
There were also no pictures of the things they were discussing.
This was also a shame because I really wanted to see pictures next
to the corresponding essay titles. What would be an appropriate
graphic for the essay "Bare Before God... Shaving and the Bible"?
Better yet what sort of thumbnail would accurately sum up
"Masturbation, God's Great Gift to Us"?
I would like to take credit for these titles, but alas I cannot.
When you go to sexinchrist.com you will see for yourself some
of the most insightful essay titles dealing with Christian-minded
sexual deviancy on the internet today.
Then there's the text. What would a Christian (male) oriented
alternative lifestyle website be without good copy? It wouldn't be worth
the pillar of salt that Lot's wife turned into when looking back onto the
"Israelis Gone Wild" episode that was known as Sodom and Gamorah.
For example:
“If you’re going to have anal sex, why not just have regular sex?”
This is a good question: If you’re going to have sexual contact before marriage, why not just go the whole nine yards and have regular sex? There are many good reasons for having anal sex instead. The first reason is practical: having conventional vaginal intercourse can lead to unwanted pregnancies.
Second, for a young woman who has never engaged in sexual intercourse, having anal sex allows her to preserve her virginity (i.e., maintain an intact hymen) until marriage. There is no greater gift that a bride can give than to offer her pure, unsullied maidenhead to her husband on their wedding night.
Let me reiterate that this is REAL TEXT.
One last example:
Fisting as an Act of Faith
Before attempting fisting, a Christian husband and wife should pray together and ask for divine guidance. The husband should ask that God guide his hand and work through him, and for the skill and patience to fist his wife correctly and maximize her pleasure. The wife should pray for openness and readiness to receive God’s love and grace in the form of her husband’s hand.
In case you forgot... REAL TEXT!
In some parts they actually quote scripture (vaguely) to make cases for anything and
everything you can think of that two (or more) people can do in bed. So if you've been
wondering how God feels about you shaving your pubic hair or whether or not you should
take it in the back door you now have a resource at your disposal. If they don't already have
a section for your divinely deviant behavior fear not... they have a question and answer forum
that you can write into!
(which by the by is the best part)
www.sexinchrist.com
-Terry
Some pretty great stuff!
Usually the two words were in the same paragraph describing the Christian response
to mainstream pornography. It never described actual pornography by and for
Christians... except for one sight.
www.sexinchrist.com
My friends if you have not been to sexinchrist.com I STRONGLY URGE YOU TO GO.
Please please please go today! Sexinchrist.com is a website dedicated
to the scriptural justification of everything sexual under the sun and then
a little. You can't make up what is found on this site.
I fear that I can't do justice to what I found there...
but I'll try anyway.
It doesn't say who runs the site. This is a shame. I almost wish there were
pictures of the men (and believe me it's men that run this site) who have taken
the time out of their clearly under-sexed lives to find scriptural precedent for
pornography of a Christian persuasion, Christian bondage or why God wants us
to masturbate (in a Christian manner of course). I imagine these men would look
like the owner of the comic book store in The Simpsons.
There were also no pictures of the things they were discussing.
This was also a shame because I really wanted to see pictures next
to the corresponding essay titles. What would be an appropriate
graphic for the essay "Bare Before God... Shaving and the Bible"?
Better yet what sort of thumbnail would accurately sum up
"Masturbation, God's Great Gift to Us"?
I would like to take credit for these titles, but alas I cannot.
When you go to sexinchrist.com you will see for yourself some
of the most insightful essay titles dealing with Christian-minded
sexual deviancy on the internet today.
Then there's the text. What would a Christian (male) oriented
alternative lifestyle website be without good copy? It wouldn't be worth
the pillar of salt that Lot's wife turned into when looking back onto the
"Israelis Gone Wild" episode that was known as Sodom and Gamorah.
For example:
“If you’re going to have anal sex, why not just have regular sex?”
This is a good question: If you’re going to have sexual contact before marriage, why not just go the whole nine yards and have regular sex? There are many good reasons for having anal sex instead. The first reason is practical: having conventional vaginal intercourse can lead to unwanted pregnancies.
Second, for a young woman who has never engaged in sexual intercourse, having anal sex allows her to preserve her virginity (i.e., maintain an intact hymen) until marriage. There is no greater gift that a bride can give than to offer her pure, unsullied maidenhead to her husband on their wedding night.
Let me reiterate that this is REAL TEXT.
One last example:
Fisting as an Act of Faith
Before attempting fisting, a Christian husband and wife should pray together and ask for divine guidance. The husband should ask that God guide his hand and work through him, and for the skill and patience to fist his wife correctly and maximize her pleasure. The wife should pray for openness and readiness to receive God’s love and grace in the form of her husband’s hand.
In case you forgot... REAL TEXT!
In some parts they actually quote scripture (vaguely) to make cases for anything and
everything you can think of that two (or more) people can do in bed. So if you've been
wondering how God feels about you shaving your pubic hair or whether or not you should
take it in the back door you now have a resource at your disposal. If they don't already have
a section for your divinely deviant behavior fear not... they have a question and answer forum
that you can write into!
(which by the by is the best part)
www.sexinchrist.com
-Terry
For Your Amusement
So this is a video from the Wife Carrying Contest at Sunday River Maine. I taped this while watching the race. It's a crowd pleaser. Enjoy...
~Dany
Thursday, October 30, 2008
DC: we're not in Iowa any more...
So we just finished our stop in DC and let me take a little time to explain our title for this blog. The two biggest differences from Iowa and DC are: in DC there are other gay people, which I was happy about. However, our crew was nowhere as nice as any of our crews in Iowa, including professional and non-professional, which no one was happy about.
To give the Venue as many words as it was worth: we only used 25% of our set because of random rules the enforced. We almost didn't get lunch between shows, until Dave our Fearless leader pointed out they were in no position to discuss the details of the contract, since they were months late turning it in. Finally, we gave two performances, one of which was to an audience of 20.
Now to the more exciting parts of our DC experience. On our day off we went site seeing and exploring around the city. We went to the Smithsonian and saw Dinosaurs, the underwhelming Hope Diamond, and learned about Theories of Evolution. It was a really awesome museum. While looking at a nice display of the dinosaurs, I assigned Dinos to all present. Terry was clearly the one being eaten, I was the one watching him be eaten, Colleen was the fierce T-Rex (because of her claw hands from the hot glue incident), Dave was the Stegosaurus, Tia was the Brontosaurus (because it's really tall), and Miranda was the little tiny one, also watching Terry be eaten
After a long museum experience Terry and I cam to the conclusion that we would be great museum partners. See we both enjoy running through the museum to make sure we see everything there is to see. Sometimes we will stop to read three or four things and sit to watch the three-minute movies on evolution or Pangea. However, the girls and Dave like to read things while walking in the museum. I don't know what that's about...
Next we wanted to find a nice snack place, like Starbucks because we were starting to get hangry. Hangry, is the period in which you are so hungry you because angry, it's in the dictionary, look it up people. So my good friend Nate who lives in the city gave us directions to a Starbuck. Miranda and I got a little confused by the map and got us lost. Time was not wasted because we took this picture with a statue made by Mark di Suvero. We wanted to climb on it more but feared being yelled at by the police. Suvero also made Victor's Lament the huge red statue in the middle of Mulenberg's Campus, note the similarities. Finally we settled down for snack time in a Bruegger's Bagles, because the Starbucks we were directed to was closed down. We sat in Bruegger's for quite a while discussing sex education form our younger years, how we first learned about it, which friends told us, what things confused us, and how our parent went about "the talk."
Latter I split off from the group to go meet my friend Nate and go to dinner. We were joined by his boyfriend Jay, and his three friends from work Ben, Mike, adn Don. Let me first say I love my tour mates, but sometimes I need a break from being around only straight people, especially after being in Iowa. So we had dinner in a Bookstore that also was a restaurant. Next we were off to the Haunted Forest. The Majority of our time was spent waiting to go into the haunted forest, which made us very cold. Finally, after freezing to death, we went in. It was a typical haunted house, where most of the fear came from anticipation of what would be next. There were two awkward parts of this event. One was, as Ben called it, Birth number two. You walked into all this fabric that was being blown into each other trying to fight your way out as if to ask the question: "am I being born again?" The next awkward experience was in a room with a million hanging manikins. There were so many, that I was sure I was being molested. The scariest parts were when the people with fake chainsaws came running at us. They may take the blades off, but the sound is still frightening. It was at that point that I grabbed Ben's hand and ran from them. One of them touched me with their chainsaws to which I responded "if you touch me with that again I will kick you in the balls." The other scary part, which was scary mostly for Ben, was this section with a ton of clowns. Ben was not Happy. Since he kindly protected me when I was afraid of the chainsaw people I felt it only fair to pay him the same courtesy. So I'm not going to get by writing this blog without saying the phrase "work it out." So I said it, that's all you get. I will leave it at the fact that Ben and I did not stop holding hands after leaving the forest. He was a really sweet guy, who made me feel very safe in the haunted forest. It was an amazing night, probably my favorite day of tour thus far. In conclusion I was extremely happy, because as I said earlier there are other gay people in DC, unlike Iowa.
~Dany
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Squirrels Over La Crosse
That's right. We've finished our first stint in the midwest. Tomorrow we leave La Crosse, WI and head back to the east coast. Aside from our stinky venue (very few crew, very few brains on the crew, and very little food), La Crosse has treated us very well. Yesterday on our day off everyone did a lot of relaxing. We hot tubbed, we ate, we watched Penn State beat Ohio State (ok well that was mostly me), and we found the best old fashioned ice cream shoppe across the street. Then it was time to go back to the hotel to settle in for a quiet night... or so we thought...
Dany was pretty high from the sugar in the ice cream (he ate all of his two scoops and finished my milkshake), and all of a sudden he demanded we play "flying squirrel." Hopefully no one reading this works for the La Crosse Holiday Inn because "flying squirrel" is the game of launching yourself from one hotel bed to the other and getting your body as horizontal as you can in mid-air. We must have all been in the midst of our own sugar highs because we not only embraced the idea,
we took pictures.
Included for your amusement, The cast of the Velveteen Rabbit works it out, squirrel style.
~ Miranda
A Retrospective look at Decorah, IA
It's very easy to say that the job description of Technical Director on a 'one-night-stand' tour like this is quite simply; "Work it out!". Needless to say I've had a little anxiety in my life for the first couple of tour stops. Looking back on Interlochen, Des Moines and Oskaloosa everything went well but I still knew that in the back of my mind the dreaded Decorah, IA was coming up.
When I first looked at the contract I skimmed over the chicken scratched technical rider and didn't think much about it until my first phone call to the venue. When I started inquiring about rigging and our carpentry needs the venue TD, Tom Henning, paused and with possibly a little trepidation in his voice and told me that the venue was not a theatre, but more of a larger church or concert hall with a thrust stage and no grid or proscenium.
Tom assured me that they would "create" a proscenium for our show and that they would be able to hang and build the show just as I would in a traditional theatre. Also, being that we had a show the day before, there would also be no way to load in the evening before and we were set for a school matinee at 11:30 AM. Oh...and the 'theatre' had to be dark at 10:30 for church who was to speak for 20 minutes. (It was in the contract, and there are just some things you can't bargain around.) This put our normal 4.5 to 5 hour load-in with a professional IA crew and a theatre at a grand total of 4-hours even. I was skeptical and eating antacids like candy. I knew from my experience in arena shows and rock concerts that doing this properly was a colossal task, and much more complicated than I could ever expect from a student crew in a very small town in Iowa.
I WAS DEAD WRONG! And never more happy to be it. Tom, Kendall, Martha and the rest of the crew got our show up in 3.5 hours, looking exactly as it was in a large professional theatre. They flew a large square truss with 9 chain-hoists, put my electrics and carpentry pipes dead on the money at distance and trim, and hustled to get the show off the truck and in the air. As the 9 motors started creeping upwards around and hour and a half after the truck door opened, the set of the Velveteen rabbit in its entirety slowly unfolded until it was at trim and the whole thing in one glorious thirty second climb stood before me as if Landis Smith himself had waved a magic wand and made it all appear.
I was elated. This was one of the fastest load-ins we have had, all of the lights were circuited and focused and colored perfectly and it was in a non-traditional space to boot.
When I first looked at the contract I skimmed over the chicken scratched technical rider and didn't think much about it until my first phone call to the venue. When I started inquiring about rigging and our carpentry needs the venue TD, Tom Henning, paused and with possibly a little trepidation in his voice and told me that the venue was not a theatre, but more of a larger church or concert hall with a thrust stage and no grid or proscenium.
Tom assured me that they would "create" a proscenium for our show and that they would be able to hang and build the show just as I would in a traditional theatre. Also, being that we had a show the day before, there would also be no way to load in the evening before and we were set for a school matinee at 11:30 AM. Oh...and the 'theatre' had to be dark at 10:30 for church who was to speak for 20 minutes. (It was in the contract, and there are just some things you can't bargain around.) This put our normal 4.5 to 5 hour load-in with a professional IA crew and a theatre at a grand total of 4-hours even. I was skeptical and eating antacids like candy. I knew from my experience in arena shows and rock concerts that doing this properly was a colossal task, and much more complicated than I could ever expect from a student crew in a very small town in Iowa.
I WAS DEAD WRONG! And never more happy to be it. Tom, Kendall, Martha and the rest of the crew got our show up in 3.5 hours, looking exactly as it was in a large professional theatre. They flew a large square truss with 9 chain-hoists, put my electrics and carpentry pipes dead on the money at distance and trim, and hustled to get the show off the truck and in the air. As the 9 motors started creeping upwards around and hour and a half after the truck door opened, the set of the Velveteen rabbit in its entirety slowly unfolded until it was at trim and the whole thing in one glorious thirty second climb stood before me as if Landis Smith himself had waved a magic wand and made it all appear.I was elated. This was one of the fastest load-ins we have had, all of the lights were circuited and focused and colored perfectly and it was in a non-traditional space to boot.
Then, just around the 4 hour mark, as the church organ was starting to play I discovered that the cross-stage data run, which in layman's terms makes all of the lights change color and the moving lights have motion, was run backwards. As I was trying frantically to figure out what to do, I stepped into the one place on stage that was not well lit and not 'railinged', far out of where I was supposed to be, and to add injury to insult... fell off of the stage. Great! A nasty bruise from a clumsy fall, and I still had to solve the problem of making the perfectly laid out and focused light plot work with absolutely no time to do it.
Tom, Martha, Kendall and the spectacular house crew stuck by me... with a ten minute house hold arranged, they guided me around the stage in a genie lift where i fought with the blasted cable to extract it from the mess that it was buried in. I was running out of time, and we had to open the house. I pulled a drop across stage just downstage of me working in the air and finished within 2 minutes of curtain.
Phew, I thought I was done, and that I could now get the show off without a hitch. Then I realized that in all of the excitement I hadn't yet given the sound guy the show's soundtrack. As I was sprinting to the light booth I turned back and somehow laid down my prompt book as I was grabbing the show CD. I sprinted back up the stairs and at 1 minute late started the soundtrack and called house to half. Smooth sailing from there.... Nope. I hit go on the light board...and...nothing happened... again I hit go....nothing. The board locked up. The board that I had been using all day and the whole tour without a hitch...locked up. I rebooted holding the house at half and finally the show was able to start.
It has to be alright now right? Nope. As i took the first few lighting cues from memory I looked down and realized that I had left my prompt book somewhere else. I hit a cue with about 1 minute until the next and started to sprint backstage to find it. Just as I got to the top of the staircase, another Luther College angel, Trudy the custodian, was already there handing it to me. Shout out to you Trudy, for being alert, and saving the show. I will never forget you.
Don't ever miss the chance to get to Luther College and work with the best local crew in the country! Heck, the Dave Matthews Band didn't when they recorded their album 'Live at Luther'.
I'm a little more relaxed in the past few days, and I say this to the rest of the country. Throw anything you got at me. I'm ready and I think I finally have my TD stripes...even if they are black and blue.
~Matt
(Kendall (far left), Tom (center), Martha (far right) and some of the Luther crew. (Thanks for the photo Tiffany!)
Saturday, October 25, 2008
weork it ourt@!
Wekll here I am typinhg my first bloig.. . .or rather henpecking muy first blog. You see, I am dowen to sixx working digitss. I had an encountefr with a very hot hot gljue gun. Thenn I had an encounwer with a veerty angry broken suitcase. Other thanj thesee battles lost and wonm (mostly losxt), life on the roafd is wonderfdul!^!
Worjk it ouht!!%*!
~Colleern!
Worjk it ouht!!%*!
~Colleern!
La Crosse: It's Hard to be a Wing-Woman
First of all...i want to extend a huge THANK YOU and CONGRATULATIONS to the city of La Crosse...bravo! hurrah! you did it!!!!!!!...your Barnes and Noble worked it out!!!...yes, to all you readers out there...the quest is over...we have prevailed..."mean girls" is now in our posession and we couldn't be happier...so thank you kindly.
At the moment I am now fortunate to be rooming with a certain Dany Guy who has not yet worked it out albeit the constant cheering on from his fellow tour mates (although we are pretty sure he has broken a few closeted hearts around the country)...why has he failed to complete this mission? well...let's just say that we have not been in the best of locations to cater to his personal needs...however La Crosse has proved a pleasant surprise...
last night we all decided to got out as we have on a whole been pretty lame with the whole party scene...so we all got dressed up and enjoyed a fine dining experience at Fayze's bar and grill where we enjoyed cheese curds (billed as a Wisconsin must!) and local brews, except for dany who ordered a cosmo so he could "look adorable" while drinking it...unfortuantely our waitress was unkowledgeable on the subject of cheese as she had never heard of "munster" cheese....lame to say the least.
after dinner we headed over to "players", a dance club adorned with gay icons including audrey hepburn and marilyn...alas, no judy...we arrived a tad early so we sat down to scope out the scene and look for promising prospects for Dany. We shook our little bunny tails on the dance floor hoping that someone would approach our adorable gay companion.
finally, while taking a dance break, a fine looking fellow wearing a green sweater came over and sat down next to dany...miranda and i gripped each other hoping this would be the one!...unfortunately he dropped the "boyfriend" bomb and miranda and i died a little inside. Said boyfriend soon joined us. Miranda and i looked on as dany "conversed" with this couple...and by conversed i mean "was even more adorable than usual" which prompted said couple to argue...basically dany is a homewrecker as he was offered drinks and basically could have "worked it out" with green shirt if said boyfriend had not been around...maybs.
Miranda and i began to route for another prospective in the bar, but dany wasn't really feeling it....lame. But, he did offer his number as a consolation (how gracious of him, really). Needless to say, Miranda and i found out during the course of the evening that being wing-women is hard work...such a rollercoaster of emotions did we experience!
sooooo..no working it out yet...but we still have two days....
to be continued...
~ Tia
At the moment I am now fortunate to be rooming with a certain Dany Guy who has not yet worked it out albeit the constant cheering on from his fellow tour mates (although we are pretty sure he has broken a few closeted hearts around the country)...why has he failed to complete this mission? well...let's just say that we have not been in the best of locations to cater to his personal needs...however La Crosse has proved a pleasant surprise...
last night we all decided to got out as we have on a whole been pretty lame with the whole party scene...so we all got dressed up and enjoyed a fine dining experience at Fayze's bar and grill where we enjoyed cheese curds (billed as a Wisconsin must!) and local brews, except for dany who ordered a cosmo so he could "look adorable" while drinking it...unfortuantely our waitress was unkowledgeable on the subject of cheese as she had never heard of "munster" cheese....lame to say the least.
after dinner we headed over to "players", a dance club adorned with gay icons including audrey hepburn and marilyn...alas, no judy...we arrived a tad early so we sat down to scope out the scene and look for promising prospects for Dany. We shook our little bunny tails on the dance floor hoping that someone would approach our adorable gay companion.
finally, while taking a dance break, a fine looking fellow wearing a green sweater came over and sat down next to dany...miranda and i gripped each other hoping this would be the one!...unfortunately he dropped the "boyfriend" bomb and miranda and i died a little inside. Said boyfriend soon joined us. Miranda and i looked on as dany "conversed" with this couple...and by conversed i mean "was even more adorable than usual" which prompted said couple to argue...basically dany is a homewrecker as he was offered drinks and basically could have "worked it out" with green shirt if said boyfriend had not been around...maybs.
Miranda and i began to route for another prospective in the bar, but dany wasn't really feeling it....lame. But, he did offer his number as a consolation (how gracious of him, really). Needless to say, Miranda and i found out during the course of the evening that being wing-women is hard work...such a rollercoaster of emotions did we experience!
sooooo..no working it out yet...but we still have two days....
to be continued...
~ Tia
Oskaloosa: a change of heart
i know we are now in La Crosse, Wisconsin but i just wanted to clear up a few things about Oskaloosa...i was quite miffed about the absence of "mean girls" in my life and i may have misplaced my frustration. I want to apologize to Oskaloosa by admitting that i was in fact angry at the Wallmart establishment, and not Oskaloosa in general. I know this apology comes pretty late, but i wanted to make sure it happened...i would feel awful to think that the slanderous comments i made about the great city of Oskaloosa which treated us to day after day of yummy hospitality tables as well as a "special" dinner at a local restaurant, would live in cyber world forever without any justification...soooo, again...i am sorry Oskaloosa...you were not the cause of all of my bumps.
~ Tia
~ Tia
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
MY PANTS ARE WET
So today we had one show after our two shows yesterday plus load in and load out. All went well... Well I did forget to set my wind because the majority of my other props had be set for me when i was dealing with the merchandise. But all went well aside from some minor injuries. We just got to out next location Decorah, IA. We went to a pizza place call Mabe's Pizza, where the joke "mabes pizza, mabes not," was repeated several times. Also Colleen and I meant to order different wines but ended up with the same which leading to both of us getting a free glass of wine. Which led to my drunken state that you are now privileged to. After our rock star dinner at Mabe's Pizza I needed ice cream. So i walked across the way to Happy Joe's where I purchase myself a milkshake. I offered to give some to Tia which she responded by hitting me in the stomach. OKAY that's not how it actually went down, but the important points are that I got a milkshake and Tia hit me. It was really hard, like hard enough that a loud noise echoed in the establishment. Also you should know that the milkshake resulted in many high kicks. I was very excited about this peanut butter chocolate delight. After everyone waited for my milk shake to be done and Tia hit me, we left Joe's to return to the Hotel. On the van ride home i realized that there was a part of my milkshake that was neither chocolate, nor peanut, nor butter. It happened to be a cherry. I don't not know why it was a part of my chocolate peanut butter delight, but alas it was. I eat the cherry and we are not sure as to whether I eat the steam as well. Some how from point Joe's to point Hotel my pants became wet. I'm not sure why but the gods of spilling decided that tonight my pants were to become wet upon arrival of the hotel. All in all it was a fun night. I also forgot to mention that I did bell kicks while enjoying my chocolate peanut butter delight. Apparently people in a bar were watching an laughing, but nothing could pull me away form my milkshake.
~Dany
P.S. Tia Hit me hard, Like REALLY HARD
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Prequel To A Tour.
This is my first blog with Bunnies Work It Out. For those of you who know my gift for problematic situations... this tour is no different. So let's start with my prequel to tour.
Every year I sublet my room so that while I'm out I don't have to pay rent on a place I'm not living in. This year I posted on Craigslist to find a subletter. Someone suggested the Philadelphia Theatre Alliance Listserv, but I was afraid that asking actors to sublet my place would be an invitation to crazy... I'm starting to think that maybe I'm the invitation to crazy.
Within hours of posting on Craigslist I received inquiries from southeast Asia, west Africa,
and a man who was could have been a cameo on Will and Grace with a Paris Hilton designer
dog. Which one do you think we interviewed?
I couldn't be around for the interview with Chris the fabulous traveling marketing exec and
his sidekick snoopy the droopy designer dog however I was told that he was "crazy but he'll do." According to Chris he has been bouncing around the east coast with his Baltimore-based marketing company for the past few years, is into conspiracy theories (9/11 was an inside job, the wealth of the world is controlled by 7 freemasons, and he thinks the DaVinci Code is a documentary) and finally he is a gay man who loves Sarah Palin (conflict of interests?).
Ok. So crazy the Will and Grace caricature of Oliver Stone can take my room. Cool. We learned before we interviewed Chris that his sister is going through treatment for cancer, probably caused by the radiation from the metal strips in all of our money that the Federal Government uses to track our every move. The first day that Chris was supposed to bring over rent there was a family emergency and he had to drive to rural Pennsylvania to be with his sister during treatment. So he re-scheduled to bring rent by the following Friday. On Friday his car was towed by the Philadelphia Parking Authority, probably as retribution for revealing the true assassins of JFK; a rare collaboration of Jews, Freemasons, The KGB and American Mafia. Ay yai yai!
So Sarah became a bit worried when Chris bailed on two different chances to make rent payments, so she went to www.ripoffreport.com. This is a skeptic's best friend. She entered Chris's name and... SURPRISE it came back with multiple hits. There were multiple reports of a Chris ******* who charged deposit payments for lay-outs in gay publications then would skip town. The reports were from Ft. Lauderdale, FL and in the reports they described Chris's personality to a tee, mentioned that he travelled with a dog and that he had most recently fled to Baltimore, MD; probably to escape the ever watching eyes of The NSA and The World-Bank.
So, because of Chris's erratic personality, failure to pay rent twice in one week due to "emergencies", and then multiple, credible reports of fraud we decided to call the police. The police told us to stop contact with Chris immediately and that we need to be more careful about who we let into the house and that we need to vet people more seriously who might actually live in the house.
So now I have no subletter in my room and I am paying rent on a place I live not in. I have since posted my sublet on the Philadelphia Theatre Alliance listserv and I'm waiting to hear back. I figure no actor could be crazier than Conspiracy Chris the gay marketer and his canine companion who are constantly running from the biggest conspiracy of all, the American Justice System.
This all happened two days before I left town.
It's gonna be a great tour!
-Terry
Monday, October 20, 2008
Oskaloosa: my bumps
enraged. yes, enraged. despite the wonderful crew and the legit hospitality table and the even more legit lunch where again i was scared of the pasta...not because it looked bad but because...well...you know...carbs and such and the sweet lady at the front desk who is going to start breakfast even earlier just for us...yes...despite this i am engraged. why you ask? well...we have been on a journey which has turned into a desperate quest to find the movie Mean girls...you know...the one with the lindsay lohan (when she was pretty)...and we were most definitely sure we could find said movie at Wallmart...but alas, alak we have been forsaken once again...and to make matters worse, when approaching the ice cream freezer where i was pretty positive i could drown my lack of lindsay woes in ben and jerry's phishfood (clearly the best flavor) they...did not have it! ridiculous! annnnndddddd...to make matters the absolute worst ever when we decided on half baked (danny's favorite but obviously the inferior choice) ice cream literally fell on me...totally not sweet. i am now so anxious i have hiccups...
oskaloosa has let me down...its many road bumps have culminated into my personal bump in the quest for a simple, heartfelt classic about teenage girl angst featuring the one and only lindsay lohan pre blonde anorexic lesbian...le sigh. (danny just said we should have purchased cards at wallmart...but god only knows if they sell such a widely sought after item)
yes, i am being dramatic but it's what i do...oh, and the hot tub is broken...
conclusion: oskaloosa is failing to work it out.
~ Tia
~ Tia
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Everything is Bigger in Des Moines
October 19th
Des Moines
This is an different type of tour.
Nothing against our touring experience. It's not horrible. I've just never had to deal with steam rooms, fitness centers and hottubs in upscale hotels. It's a lot of pressure taking in all the luxury.
I'm also adjusting to the whole "union crew" thing. That's my awkward heavy box to carry. Go find your own hernia. All this, combined with waking up to 6500 happy people running a marathon right outside the hotel was just too much. I think we all needed to de-stress.
Luckily there was pasta.
Actors like pasta... well not Tia...something about carbs...and with the help of a lovely young lady named Joanne See (she gave us plates) two girls and a Dany made a beautiful hotel dinner. More than likely we'll have to put up with more jacuzzi shortly. Well, we knew this wouldn't be easy when we signed the contract. Hopefully, Newark will be better. I think they have a YMCA.
~Dave
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Our First Photos
Here are some of the first photographs taken from our tour so far. They include pictures in front of and inside Corsen Theatre at Interlochen Arts Academy as well as pictures from our drive to Des Moines, IA. Enjoy!
~ Miranda
Friday, October 17, 2008
Work it out!!!
We had our first performance. key notes: Dany had an interesting dream the night before, the show went well, Load in and out went smooth, and Matt worked it out!!!
till next time.
~Dany
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