Strange Transition...

            In one night, we went from estranged couple to Drinking buddies, trading stories of the one that got away. After some Scotch and Blackberry wine (what a combo!), I spilt the whole story. I told her everything. And it wasn’t nearly as bad as she suspected.

            Of course it’s all moot now, but it was good to put all the cards on the table. Essentially, we’re both fucked. Ain’t that the rub? The final question was “Now what?”. There was no answer, but at least we can be a little more civil to each other.

            I’m still a little lost, but I think I will manage a little better now.

 

 

 

 

            I’ll be OK.

            Take care.

 

 

 

The Speech

            I know the words by heart at this point. It’s the one that, for some reason, starts: “You know why I would never go out with you?”

            That is a Hell of a way to start a conversation. I really thought I was done with that part of my life.

A Positive Note (Kinda)

The following is in response to an e-mail I received from my wife. These were the last words of her letter:

“ So who are you now? Have you come into any new revelations about yourself and others? Do you have any positive revelations to share? Or have they all been snuffed out by me?”

This was my reply:

Positive Revelations?

I went to a wedding on Monday. My friend Jason (from Earnest & Marat.Sade) married Darcy (who worked on 24 hour theater with me). The wedding was on a Monday so that all of us in shows could attend. It was very much a OC Theater wedding (even if it was held in Riverside). It was a Scottish wedding (Jason wore a kilt). Jason is Scottish and Darcy is Irish. At the end of the ceremony Kelly Flynn got up and did an Irish Blessing. It was then that it occurred to me that Kelly has become the Patriarch of a very extended, dysfunctional family.

The reception was split evenly between Family and Actors. Over the last 15 years I have watched as my friends from school drift farther and farther from me. As you might know, this has been of great concern to me. But, it seems that I have found a new family. Of course, I’m weird Uncle Fester in this family, but at least I have a place.

Not to make you feel bad (this is not a guilt trip!), but I really think that I am done with the concept of Romantic Love. It was always an idealized thing in my mind and heart. Real life can never compare to what I think it should be. I was long content in the thought that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. You fooled me into thinking that I could have the dream. But, it was just a dream. I fooled myself. Shame on me.

But, I don’t think I have to be alone. There is a large group of people out there that love me. Maybe, not like I always wanted, but it is real enough. It is not the epic, sweeping love that I always dreamed of (I never really told you about my romantic fantasies. I really did want to be the White Knight, or maybe a Pirate), but it is the Love of Family, which is not something to scoff at.

So, I will be content in my fucked-up little theater family. We’re all damaged in one way or another, but we have each other. I guess that will have to do…

Madame Guignol's Macabre Theater: Guignol X 

On the Wearing of Skins

A couple of weeks ago, I was having a conversation with my roommate, Tony, about theater. We were doing a show and I had just gotten my costume together. I was playing con-artist in 1941 and I had bought a nice coat and a beautiful black fedora. I was talking about how when I put that suit and hat on I felt transformed. Tony is a big ole’ Pagan and he started talking about “Sympathetic Magic”. That sounded right to me, then I made the statement:

“Theater didn’t start in ancient Greece. It started when the first caveman threw a pelt on his back and said to his buddy “Look Frank, I’m a Tiger!””

Tony was most amused (especially by Caveman Frank).

But, I’ve been thinking about that concept more & more. The Wearing of Skins. Sympathetic Magic. Transformation. When I am on stage and I’m feelin’ it, I am another person.

Recently, I have been going to the Maverick Theater for “Mr. Karaoke”. I’ve been singing on stage since I was 15. I’m damn good at it. But, I suck at Karaoke. There is some huge disconnect going on, and I think I’ve figured it out. When I do Karaoke, I’m me. When I’m in a Musical, I’m the character. I have a skin to hide in, that is not my own.

One could come to 2 different conclusions. I should learn to be comfortable in my own skin, or I should learn to adopt a skin for Karaoke.

I’m not sure which way I will go with that.

In the meantime, I have to go buy some Costume Pieces for “Madame Guignol’s Macabre Theater: Guignol X” at the Hunger Artists Theater Company. I need to find some skins that blood will wash out of…