...that apples and oranges are both fruit, both round and both can be eaten by hand. Apples have a skin you can eat. Oranges should be peeled. Both have seeds you can eat, but they taste icky. Overall, I like them both. There. I did it. I compared apples to oranges.
...that America has become a really awesome place for rich people. And they like it that way. We do have the best health care and education, if you can drop the ten million dimes to afford it. Corporate leaders and stockholders steal from the poor to keep themselves rich.
...that theater is live and immediate. It is human beings sharing stories with human beings. And as long as the stories are well told and connect, there will always be a place for it.
...that when you put on a festival involving over 200 people putting up 26 shows in 11 days and can't think of a single hitch to the whole proceedings, it's because you've learned to work with people who are bright, creative, courteous and fun.
...that we have a war that has gone on longer than Vietnam, an environmental disaster that could destroy the lives of millions, health care reform that mostly isn't, laws that put corporations over people and...where am I going with this? Oh, yeah, good thing we know how to laugh or we'd all be lining up to get our government-issue straight-jacket and padded cell.
satire, social commentary, sketch comedy, writing, stuff
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
365 Sketches Written, 365 Sketches Performed
Pretty intense experience. This picture from the final show's curtain call seems to sum it all up. (photo by Dianna Driscoll)
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Sketch Zero
My friends at Robot vs. Dinosaur are doing their part of 365 tonight. Back in January, at the end of the 365 writing process, they presented me with this...
I Believe...
...that as much as I mock Facebook, it was very useful in letting people know about my mother passing at a time when I had a lot going on. The outpouring of wall posts and personal messages was overwhelming, in a good way. I was especially touched by the people who have lost a parent who reached out with their empathetic support.
...that just having a good cry does wonders and feels much better than fighting having a good cry.
...that the magnitude of presenting 365 Sketches didn't fully hit me until we actually started doing it. The best reward has been seeing so many people have so much fun because of some stuff I wrote. What's also been great is that we chose the right directors who chose the right actors. Everyone has been exceptional to work with and from the very first tech, it has gone very smoothly. No divas. Except Don Hall.
...that even bald guys can get bad haircuts. You get what you pay for. On the other side, no reason for a bald guy to pay too much. There's not even material for the stylist to work with to justify it, even if you do offer me a latte.
...that success comes from taking risks and painting oneself in corners. Want to do a (fill-in-the-blank)-a-day for a year? Talk to a lot of people about doing it, gather a support system, do it publicly, and have not doing be more painful than doing it. And don't complain about it because you're doing exactly what you said you'd do.
...that just having a good cry does wonders and feels much better than fighting having a good cry.
...that the magnitude of presenting 365 Sketches didn't fully hit me until we actually started doing it. The best reward has been seeing so many people have so much fun because of some stuff I wrote. What's also been great is that we chose the right directors who chose the right actors. Everyone has been exceptional to work with and from the very first tech, it has gone very smoothly. No divas. Except Don Hall.
...that even bald guys can get bad haircuts. You get what you pay for. On the other side, no reason for a bald guy to pay too much. There's not even material for the stylist to work with to justify it, even if you do offer me a latte.
...that success comes from taking risks and painting oneself in corners. Want to do a (fill-in-the-blank)-a-day for a year? Talk to a lot of people about doing it, gather a support system, do it publicly, and have not doing be more painful than doing it. And don't complain about it because you're doing exactly what you said you'd do.
Monday, June 7, 2010
The Funeral
I have been to a few funerals, but this is the first one where I participated. I usually sit in the back and crack jokes and fight the giggles. It's what I do when facing the realities of life. When I was looking through pictures to post of my mother, I came across a letter from her. She sent it after her father's funeral in 1985, which I was unable to attend. It had a memorial card, a short note about the day humorously bitching about my aunts, and a typewritten page of a translated version of Psalm 23 from T. C. McLuhan's book "Touch the Earth." Father Olson, the pastor officiating my grandfather's funeral read it and my mother thought it was beautiful. Given my organizational skills, the fact that I still had this letter and the hard copy of the psalm seemed like a sign to have it read at my mother's funeral. Pastor Mike liked the idea and asked me to read it. My mother would certainly want that. I accepted, not realizing what a struggle it would be to get through without breaking down in tears. I made it through, teary-eyed and shaky-voiced.
After the service, I was chatting with Pastor Mike and showed him my mother's letter. He got a kick out of it and was blown away by the post script where my mom explained the psalm was found by Father Olson to be read. Pastor Mike's first funeral as a pastor was Father Olson's. I have a feeling this version of Psalm 23 is going to be getting a lot more air play.
The Twenty-third Psalm
- Native American Version -
The Great Father above a Shepherd Chief is.
I am His, and with Him I want not.
He throws out to me a rope,
And the name of the rope is love.
He draws me to where the grass is green,
And the water’s not dangerous.
I eat and lie down and am satisfied.
Sometimes my heart is very weak and falls down,
But He lifts me up again, and draws me into a good road.
His name is WONDERFUL.
Sometime soon, or it may be a long, long time,
He will draw me into a valley.
It is dark there, but I'll be afraid not,
For it is in between those mountains
That the Shepherd Chief will meet me
And the hunger that I have in my heart
All through this life will be satisfied.
Sometimes He makes the love rope into a whip
But afterwards He gives me a staff to lean upon.
He spreads a table before me with all kinds of foods.
He puts His hand upon my head, And all the "tired" is gone.
My cup He fills ‘till it runs over.
What I tell is true; I lie not.
These roads that are "away ahead"
Will stay with me through this life and after;
And afterwards I will go to live In the Big Tepee
And sit down with the Shepherd Chief forever.
After the service, I was chatting with Pastor Mike and showed him my mother's letter. He got a kick out of it and was blown away by the post script where my mom explained the psalm was found by Father Olson to be read. Pastor Mike's first funeral as a pastor was Father Olson's. I have a feeling this version of Psalm 23 is going to be getting a lot more air play.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Helen Janes 1935 - 2010
The early years...
With my pal Houdini...
Mom always had a quirky sense of humor, which should be of no surprise to anyone. She once lived on the second floor of a funeral home. I came home from college and stayed up late one night watching the movie Phantasm. It freaked me out a bit, so I slept on the couch. The next night, I got home late, went to my bedroom, and she had placed a poster board tombstone with my name on it at the head of my twin bed and arranged some pillows so it looked like a body under the blanket. Thanks, Mom. I miss you.
With my pal Houdini...
Mom always had a quirky sense of humor, which should be of no surprise to anyone. She once lived on the second floor of a funeral home. I came home from college and stayed up late one night watching the movie Phantasm. It freaked me out a bit, so I slept on the couch. The next night, I got home late, went to my bedroom, and she had placed a poster board tombstone with my name on it at the head of my twin bed and arranged some pillows so it looked like a body under the blanket. Thanks, Mom. I miss you.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)