What It Feels Like
I never thought I was all that "good" when I was doing theatre.  Back in my acting/directing/producing days, I was more concerned with doing the best I could at that moment, with the people and resources I had at hand.

I always felt that I could do whatever needed doing - - and I had the confidence that it was adequate.  "Good" can be left for others to define.  But it was art, and it was my best effort in that time. And it was my effort. 

I created, I presented, I nurtured, I did whatever I could to make that art come to life.  And while some may question the quality of what I produced, no one could deny that my grubby fingerprints were on every aspect the final product.

I miss that.  I never thought that I was ever going to be rich or famous or anything, but when I was a working artist, I felt like a different person than I do know.

I've been accused -- by people who know me really well -- of acting and performing because I am an attention junkie.  That I want everyone to look at me, that I want Center Stage.  I suppose that's true, up to a point.

What I miss most is feeling that confidence, I miss being The Guy Who Gets It Done.  On my best days I felt like I was the Orson Wells of central Minnesota theatre -- or at least the Ed Wood of it.  

Acting, directing, producing, forming a team and making sure that everyone was free to make the most artistic choices possible were part and parcel of the game -- but so was selling ads, soliciting donations, pounding the pavement in search of props, working with playwrights who had no idea of how to write a play that could actually be produced, writing grants, and taking care of every detail.  

That behind-the-scenes stuff was as important, as satisfying, as the stagecraft for me.  And few people even knew I was doing all of it; if we needed something, I got it -- by hook or by crook.  

It's fair to say that there is nowhere else in life where I am as competent as I am in the theatre.  In fact, I could go so far as to say that I am incompetent almost everywhere but the theatre.  In no other arena am I The Guy Who Gets It Done.  

When I hear some people talk about acting, or playing an instrument, or doing sports or whatever it is that they do, I hear them say stuff like "It makes me feel alive".  Feh.  At best, that description is inadequate.

Here's what it feels like:

Every nerve is raw, every thought is imperative, every word carries salvation or doom.  When it works you're flying and when it doesnt you're dying. (And sometimes, you're doing both at once!) Even failures are glorious because you're there.  It's windburn and the salty smack of sea spray; it's chocolate and sour vinegar all in one bite. Glory and heartbreak in one breath.  

And sometimes, it's a pitcher of stale beer at a tavern a block from the theatre where you hash out all that day's frustrations with people you toil with.  

And when you're lucky . . . really lucky . . . it's perfect.  For a moment, like in jazz when you're not playing any note but the silence between the notes.  Like one of those rare kisses where everything lines up just so and the kiss you imagine is the exact kiss you get. Of course it's over before it even really starts, but it's perfect.  

Only the theatre has given me that. Some of my jobs have given me a little satisfaction, some have given me security; none have been places where I felt that moment where it's just right.

Mostly, being a working artist is about paying the bills and getting it done, with flashes of exultation.  

And that's what I miss.

We've  got a busy week ahead at Casa de Sawin.  Today, I have to mow the lawns, move a bunch of furniture, and do a secret shopper assignment.  I won’t name the store, but it’s a sporting goods place, and I am supposed to shop for a sleeping bag.  It’s not a lot of money, but these little assignments pay for coffee and a couple of gallons of gas.  

Monday: carpenter coming out to work on our kitchen cabinets.  We need to tear them up a little to make room for a dishwasher and put in a new exhaust fan.  The electrician is going to put in a new circuit for the dishwasher and also hang a few new light fixtures.

Tuesday:  Going to the college to finalize registration and figure out what books I’m going to need. 

Wednesday: The carpenter is coming back out to hang a new door that connects the house and garage.  The siding guys are coming out for final measurements and samples so we can make the final decision about the color.  

Thursday: Prepare for garage sale.  MPW does most of the work with that stuff, but I get to do all the heavy work.  (Due to a back injury from an accident a couple of ears ago, she’s not supposed to lift more than 8 pounds.)  I get a kick out of doing this stuff, but I have little patience for the garage sale itself, but moving stuff is fun.

Friday:  Garage sale.

Saturday: Garage sale.

So that’s the week ahead ‘round these parts.  I got a heck of an entry planned in a couple of days.   So stay tuned.

 

The Weekend

We picked up Mercurial Girl from camp on Thursday, and the weekend was ... okay.  The cats were happy to see her, and frankly it was nice to have her home.  Most of the time.  We had to have a little teen drama, or it wouldn't be a weekend with Mercurial Girl. 

She's back at camp for another month.  She has some pretty funny pictures, which I will scan and post once we get our office re-organized. 

Most Paitent Wife and I are doing some household stuff.  It's been almost two years since we bought this house, and it feels like we're just now getting a good feel for the place. 

The outside of Casa de Sawin is getting a facelift.  We're putting up new siding and windows, and we are also going to do some landscaping.  It's too late for flowers this year, but I can still make the beds and do the hard work so that next spring we can turn ground and plant.  I can't do any of that stuff until the windows and siding guys are done, which will be in a few weeks.  

The good news is that the harsh part of summer will be over. The bad news is that my opportunity to do yard work will merge with my return to school.   It would be easy for me to just put it all off to next year, but I really want the yard done.  I want our house to look its best, and if that's going to happen, I'm going to have to go out there and sweat. 

On the inside of the house, we're adding a new workstation to our home office.  We picked up a nice used desk for me, and we're in the process of getting the computers to work together with the printer.   Once we get the furniture set up the way we want to and the rest of the physical stuff figured out, networking the computers won't take long at all.

We're also redoing the living room.  We had the piano moved upstairs, and  it has made a huge difference with the look of the room.  Had I been thinking, I would have taken a few "before" pictures.  We're having the last piece of furniture delivered on Wednesday, and I'll be posting some photos of the end result.  I can't wait until we get it all done. 

We switched to DISH network satellite service, because our cable company just wasn't doing its job.  We got a pretty good deal that includes free DVR, and let me just say this for the benefit of those of you who haven't tried DVR yet:

It will change the way you watch TV.  It's not just the fact that you can pause the show for whatever reason, or go back if you missed something.  It's not that you can program the system to record your favorite shows so you can watch them whenever you want -- on your schedule.   DVR is all that and more.  (It's a floor wax and a dessert topping!)  Remember when VCR's hit the big time?  A DVR is a quantum leap over that.  It's simpler to use, stores more stuff and offers more options. 

We're also going to switch our ISP.  The one we have now is ... okay.  The local customer service folks are nice, but for the most part I have had little satisfaction with this company in the past two years.  Until recently, they were the only option in town if you wanted broadband -- and it showed in their service. 

In other news, I'm thinking of getting off of Tripod.  The comments haven't been working for a few weeks now, and I have experienced some other glitches as well -- pages taking forever to load, entries getting eaten, that sort of thing.  While I don't pay for this service, I don't demand much of it, either.  And there are times when the inconvenience of the technical difficulties outweighs the "free" aspect of it.  I've been with Tripod for over ten years, and I am someone who usually stays put.  But with the new ISP and the other new stuff going on ... maybe it's a time for change. 

But then again ... 

We'll see.  There's only so much change a guy can take!  

 

  

Radio, Cats and Glasses
I spent three hours on the radio yesterday. I hosted the Frets program on KVSC because the regular host was out of town at the Winnipeg Folk Festival. I had a great time playing some of the old folk music.

The regular guy leans a little more to bluegrass and Americana, and while I like that stuff a lot, I also like to play stuff written and performed by women so I loaded up on Ani Di Mecele, Iris Dement, Suzanne Vega, and Joan Baez. There were many more of course, but those are the artists that I can rattle off at the top of my head.

The few phone calls I get when I guest host is from regular listeners who like my take on the show, and that’s gratifying. I wouldn’t want to do the gig every week (it’s unpaid for one thing), but I jump at the opportunity when it comes up.

Mercurial Girl is coming home in a few days after being gone to camp for a month. She’s going to be here for three days and then she’s heading back for another month. She called yesterday and she sounded happy, although a little worried about a mysterious rash that’s going around the camp. The hope is that it’s nothing more than poison oak or poison ivy.

Given that she hasn’t been allowed to sleep in all this time, I’ll bet that she wants to hibernate in her room for at least one of the days that she’s home. The house has been quiet without her. While that might sound like a good thing, there’s just something missing when she’s gone.

I’ll be interested in how the cats treat her. When we come back from a trip the cats usually give us the cold shoulder treatment, except with their hindquarters.

Ginger, especially, is good at what I call “giving the butt”. The cat will make a point of being in the same room as us but resolutely faces the other way, making sure that we have a good view of her backside. “Yeah I missed you, but I’m pissed” is the message. Sometimes this will last a day or two.

Lovey is much more forgiving, which I’m sure is just another reason that she exasperates Ginger. Lovey will pout and hide a little, but then she has to come out and look for attention. And then of course, she’s a sucker for the laser pointer. A little bit of that and all is forgiven, as far as Lovey is concerned.

Now, I'm off to find my glasses. I took them off somewhere in the back yard when I was out doing some lawn stuff and I can't find them. Grrr.

Back In The Saddle
As you may have noticed, I took a few weeks off from blogging. I had a lot on my mind, but I was still in the throes of writer's block and just didn't feel like it anyhoo.

But now I'm back.

Most Patient Wife and I just returned from a vacation. We visited her friends in a faraway place. Mercurial Girl wasn't with us this time, because she's off at camp. The vacation was filled with good food, friends, quiet moments and all kinds of stuff that would be boring to a 16 year-old anyway. I had a wonderful time, and the ol' batteries have been recharged.

Mercurial Girl is off at a summer work camp. She's been gone for three weeks. She'll come home for a break next weekend, and then it's back to the salt mines for another month. The program is part of Americorps, and I think it's a good deal for her. She's working hard, but it's also camp so there is a lot of fun, too.

So she gets to grow up a bit by being away for two months over the summer, she gets to earn some serious coin, and she's working hard as well. All in all, this is a great deal.

I do miss her, though.

In the time since I last wrote:

-- I became an uncle again. My sister (perhaps the sanest of my family) had a baby girl. I haven't seen any pictures yet, but I'm sure I'll just fall in love with her like I do with all infants.

-- I lost my old nasty cellphone, and replaced it with a newer one that works really well. So if anyone out there tried to call for the last week or so ... try again!

-- I have registered for school. This time for sure. I've toyed around with going back a few times before, but this time it's going to happen. I was recently passed over for another promotion at work and I have had enough. They gave the position to a guy who's been doing the job for three months. I've been with the company for three years, and I've been doing this work for almost 20 years. They've made it pretty clear that this is as far as I'm going in this company, and if I want to do any better, I'm going to need a degree or some sort of certification. So on August 21 is my first day of classes. I'll write more when I have more details.

-- We put up one of those pools that are advertised as "easy to assemble" and let me just say
"nuh-uh". We eventually got it done, but it warn't easy, nossir. The upside is that we now have a nice place to soak, so that's pretty nice.

Well, that's it for now. I've got a bunch of online stuff to do for school and then it's off to bed. Thanks for reading.

Towel Day
Hey. it's Towel Day!

This is a day set aside for Douglas Adams, author of The Hitchhiker's Guide To the Galaxy.

Why Towel Day? Well, as Adams himself said in his first book:

A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitch hiker can have. Partly it has great practical value - you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you - daft as a bush, but very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.


The idea is that fans are supposed to carry around a towel all day. Now, while I liked the books, I'm probably not going to do that, except maybe at home.

Feel free to celebrate Towel Day any way you see fit.

And Then The Bottom Fell Out
It started a couple of weeks ago, and I just had the nerve to admit it today: I have severe writer's block. It's been a scary couple of weeks; I've never experienced this before -- in fact, I haven't said anything to anyone about it until right this minute.

I did a couple of interviews, and got the pictures. And, like I have a hundred times before, I took out my notes and started to compose my articles. These are pretty simple affairs: I call it "fill in the blank" writing.

But for some reason, I couldn't do it. My notes are fine, the people were cool...but for some reason, I can't put it all together. It's like reaching for something that's not there -- and your hand isn't there, either. Scary.

I haven't even answered any e-mail or anything else. I've quit posting on my favorite message boards...I have a half-written letter to my sister...and of course I haven't written much on the blog.

I don't know what's up, but hopefully it's over. I tried to sleep tonight, but all of a sudden had the urge to write all of this. So the words are making sense to me again, and things are flowing.

Tomorrow morning, I will take out my notes one more time and try to write the articles from my notes. If I still can't do it, I'm going to just move onto different interview subjects.

Hopefully, my editors at the paper are still talking to me.

This Made Me Laugh
The folks at Despair.com put out a line of products that poke fun of those motivational posters some employers put up in thier work sites to inspire their workers to go further, do more, and feel good about their crappy jobs.

These posters are more than just sarcastic and cynical, they contain a little wisdom as well. Whoever thought of this really did some homework.

Here are a few of my favorites:

At Bad Day they do similar work, with images from comics. My favorite of these is from the surreal title Flaming Carrot:

Check out these sites if you have a minute. Funny stuff!

Sometimes I Wonder
I'm not a Bush basher. I don't think he's stupid or evil. I don't think he's a great president, but I still think he was better than either of the two guys who challenged him.

But sometimes I wonder. I mean, does he even understand how much damage he's done to his party? does he grasp just how unpopular he is at the moment? Because when I read stuff like:

President Bush suggested Wednesday that he'd like to see his family's White House legacy continue, perhaps with his younger brother Jeb as the chief executive.

The president said Florida Gov. Jeb Bush is well-suited for another office and would make "a great president."

I just have to wonder what is going through his head. By the way, you can read the whole story here.

High School Student Suspended For Singing Song
Found this on Drudge:


It appears that a teacher felt threatened when she overheard a student singing "On Top Of Old Smokey" and then speaking the lyrics to another student.

She was suspended for five days.

Other songs that might have gotten this student suspended:

The Hokey Pokey
Rock A-Bye Baby
Hot For Teacher