So what does a guy do when he suddenly has a lot of time on his hands?

He works around the house.

Over the past few days I've cleaned a garage, organized a den, detailed a car, took off my screen door (it's broken, but I ordered the replacement part today), painted the last tiny bits of the house I hadn't gotten to yet, and bought a big shelving unit for my garage.

I also went through this big bin of screws and tacks and other assorted hardware and placed them all into their own proper little compartments.

Now I am currently going through my music collection to find all those bootleg live and rare tracks I got from the glory days of Napster. iPod needs fillin'.

It may not be drinking Bordeaux on the Left Bank, but it's stuff that has to get done.

Of course, by noon on Tuesday I will officially run out of stuff to do, so I'm getting a little worried.

Oh, and if you're curious, the CT Scan didn't show anything too alarming. So all is good with me.

Apparently I have something wrong with my pancreas. Enzymes are really high or something; probably too many vodka tonics this past year. See kids: don't use alcohol to numb you from the pain. Pot is probably better for you. (Just kidding; I never got into that stuff.)

Okay, but in all seriousness I think I'm fine, or will be, once the final phase of Get Out of My Rut is finished. Just have to clean out the system a bit and get it back to the way it was, and I'm almost there.

I've been pondering the doctor bills that will be coming my way, though, and that brings up money in general, something I never seem to have a lot of. Started thinking about the trip, and whether or not it was a good idea to go. Then thought about how it might not be a good idea to have something potentially serious wrong with you and be across an ocean from your PPO. And if I'm supposed to lay off the sauce, it sure isn't a lot of fun to sit in an Irish pub and drink 7-UP.

Been doing lots of that type of thinking, and came to the conclusion that it just isn't smart to be taking this trip. I wasn't planning on a vacation this year anyway, being a recent (broke) homeowner and all. But I had that ticket, you see, the one that was going to take me to my new life as an American in Europe.

Well, the best laid plans often get fucked up, and so I've decided to not travel to Europe this summer. Thankfully the good people at US Airways only charge a small fee to put the ticket on "hold," and I'll be able to use the credit towards a future ticket. Other than that, I hadn't really spent any money yet, so nothing really lost.

I'm pretty bummed, but it was borderline folly to be spending all of my meager savings on yet another trip across the pond. Too many other things that I should be spending my money on: a broken front screen door, for one.

So the Tookish side has lost this round, and I will be a sensible hobbit and stay home this year. Part of me breathes a sigh of relief, knowing that for the time being I will have a bit of economic security around me. But that other part sits and wishes that he was riding a train through green hills, or raising a glass with faraway friends.

What a strange summer I have had...

When I was in my late teens I used to get these horrible stomach aches. I basically wouldn't be able to move for 7-10 hours because the pain was so bad. While I was in college I was admitted to the hospital twice, but both times the doctors never really came to any real conclusion. I just chalked it up to stress.

I haven't had any pains like those until last night, when my stomach started tightening up around 2 AM. It never got as bad as it used to be, but throughout the night the aches became worse and I never fell asleep for more than ten minutes at a time. Around 5:30 AM I drove around trying to find some magic pill but in the end wound up with some ineffective Pepto.

The pain refused to go away, and so I called my doctor who was able to get me in right away. Gave me something called a GI Cocktail to help relax the spasms or something, and told me to get some serious GI work done. (I had also been in there last week about recurring acid reflux, and I've had some other digestive issues over the past couple of years.)

What really scared me was when she said it was probably an ulcer. A fucking ulcer. Now, I don't think it is, because to me it just seems like a bad stomach ache, reminicent of the old ones. It's gone away now, and I feel okay, albeit a little sore and tired. But I could be wrong, and I shouldn't be taking chances at my age.

So yeah. One more goddamn thing.

I now call upon all of the beautiful fair folk of the world to descend upon my home and help nurse this poor fool back to health.

Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;

Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;

Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,

With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;

The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,

And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs

And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,

To have my love to bed and to arise;

And pluck the wings from Painted butterflies

To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes:

Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.

Yeah, that sounds pretty good right about now.

Theatre is done, and so it's time to switch into Travel Mode.

The Itinerary:

August 1: Fly from O'Hare to Dublin, by way of a brief stopover in Philly (the ticket was cheaper that way).

August 2, Morning: Arrive in Dublin, waste half of the day for a connecting flight to Bristol, England. Bristol is supposed to be a pretty decent city, and I'm mulling over the idea of walking from Bristol to Bath by using this route. It's quite an undertaking, and I don't know if I'm in good enough shape to hike 13 miles with 20 pounds of crap on my back. But the hobbit in me loves walking through the English countryside, and I'm not getting many opportunities to do that on this trip.

August 4: Travel by rail to London, passing through the West Country and arriving at London Paddington in the early afternoon. After reading Edward Rutherford's London I am eager to investigate the city again. And well, it is London after all.

August 6: At this point I was going to travel north to Leeds, as part of the whole "Let's check out possible cities to live in" plan. I'm not really into that right now, and would rather just enjoy travel for travel's sake. So I'm boarding the Eurostar shortly before lunch and will be in Paris three hours later.

Why Paris? Well, it's a sort of "fuck you" to everyone who thinks that the French have nothing good to offer any more. Politics and inability to win against the Germans aside, it is still a marvelous city, and I do wish to be on the continent a bit again.

This might be a good opportunity to stop and discuss why in the hell I haven't explored much of the non-island portions of Europe. For starters, they speak different languages there, you know, and as a solo traveler there is a bit of comfort to be found in wandering places where English is the primary language. Plus, I just happen to really like Ireland and the UK, and since I have been unable to actually live there, I like going back to familiar places. A bit of "home" on the other side of the Atlantic.

Really, though, it's because I always saw myself exploring much of the world with someone. It's hard enough going back to Paris without a darling companion, as I had always planned. And so I'm off again on my own, but I seem to like it that way, or else I wouldn't keep doing this.

After Paris I try the low-budget carrier Ryanair, which takes me to Shannon Airport and the southwest of Ireland. I'll give you Week Two tomorrow.

The Life Theatric

Yesterday was the day where I could finally state that Limelight was officially done for the summer. We put the last of the furniture into storage, the thank-yous are all written, and my house is now scattered with posters, scripts, notebooks, and leftover t-shirts.

And so this week I've been spending most evenings out with friends, catching up after seven weeks of doing nothing but theatre. Time and again I had to say "no" or duck out early on various get-togethers, because there was always work to be done.

I think most people tend to think Limelight is just some fun little diversion for myself and the others, something to spend a few hours of your day at, working with kids and being creative. I think the evidence of that is this: those not in Limelight always ask how the plays are going. I don't think I've ever heard any of the Limelight staff, cast, crew, or even parents refer to what we do as "plays." This is hard work, and we all take it very, very seriously. Every day was a 10-12 hour day for me, and I probably had a total of two full days off all summer where I could just relax and not worry about Limelight.

And to be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way. For me, this is work worth doing. Sure, it's certainly not Steppenwolf, and we're still very much under the community radar, but it's still an opportunity for a variety of different people to come in and work as a team, be creative, and move towards a common goal: producing the best show that we can.

Now that the curtain has fallen on the 2006 season, you'll hear the same thing over and over again from most of the company: I'm bored. I'm having Limelight withdrawal.

Some may snicker and roll their eyes at what we do, but this is important to us, and it's the life we have chosen. Theatre tends to attract the eccentrics, the oddballs, those that just can't seem to figure out how to operate in what is supposed to be the "traditional" way of doing things.

For all my fretting about being lost and frustrated in my life, I never feel that way when I'm working on a stage, organizing a prop room, or coming up with new ways to photograph the actors for the cast photos. I feel at home.

I write all of this as a sort of explanation to why I don't seem to be very sociable during the summer theatre season. As Captain Limelight, I have a lot of responsibility, one of which is to set an example of hard work and dedication to the others. And to hopefully teach them that this is about being a part of something, something that draws in lost souls and free spirits alike. This is about stepping onto a stage and telling a story and making parents and friends think, "I didn't know they could do that!"

This is an adventure.

So. The people have spoken, and the vox populi seems to think that I should keep this thing going.

Before I get any further, I have to say thank you, again, to all of the words of support and whatnot from everyone. One reason I took down the comments was because I just didn't want to turn it into a situation where everyone was bucking me up and sending out inspirational quotes from hither and yon. We went through this a year or so ago, and I just didn't want to repeat it. It's a fight I just want to fight and finish myself, but Asshole X doesn't seem to have the guts to sign his/her real name to anything, and instead has retreated into obscurity once again.

But thank you, seriously. I probably sound very despondent and near-suicidal, but it really isn't the case. I tend to let the extremes of my emotions come out on this thing, so that I don't have to be so whiny and moody in public.

Which leads me to my next thing: public persona vs. private persona. When I started this blog back a few years ago, I had no problem using my real name because no one knew about it and no one knew what the hell a blog was.

Now, though, things have changed. As you have noticed from the comments, several former students (now high school-age Limelighters) have discovered this blog, and most of them are bloggers themselves. In the beginning, it was just a couple of people whose families I knew very well, but now it's gotten to a point where I'm feeling a bit uneasy. Who should really be reading this? This is certainly not something that young kids should be reading, but is it okay for a 17-year old? I don't really know the answer to that. But being a teacher makes it extra-tricky.

Blogging is one of those "controversial" topics at board meetings and PTA's where they worry (rightly so)about kids on myspace who post death threats to principals or who post too-private information on a public space (a note to young bloggers: don't, don't, don't post your phone number online. Seriously. Think about it.)

We also have teachers who blog here and there, but in another few years the myspace and facebook generation will be in the workforce, and what is said on blogs will become a greater and more alarming issue as employers and school administrators attempt to use statements made on blogs as evidence for possible disciplinary action. I don't agree with that, and someday there may be a big court case that determines what free speech rights bloggers have, but for right now, it's a dangerous and volatile situation.

So maybe being "Brian XXXXX, blogger" isn't such a great idea right now.

Trouble is, I like blogging, and would like to continue. But if I do so, certain things are going to need a little bit of a makeover. The name of Baggins is no longer safe, but since "Mr. Underhill" is already taken by another blogger, I will have to find myself a more anonymous blog moniker. (Any suggestions?)

You all can help by not linking me as "Fauth" or "Brian Fauth" or "Fauthy" anymore. Best to just leave it as "Brian" or whatever silly name I eventually create for myself.

I will keep this thing going for the next few weeks as I once again travel overseas to parts known and unknown. I enjoy reporting from different places, and writing about the travel experience gives me a particular joy.

I'll tinker with a new blog, perhaps, or refine this one to a point where I'm happy with my public persona. (Part of me wants to start over because I screwed up the archives a while back, and now the paragraph settings are all dicked up.)

Unfortunately, I will continue to moderate comments, so when you post something, you'll have to wait for me to check it. I don't really feel like giving You-Know-Who the ability to leave any more petty slams. They need to just grow up and deal with me one-on-one.

So that's that. What a week. Oh, and while I know you've done your best to raise my spirits and convince me that life is good, one incident occurred during the final performance of Beauty and the Beast that makes me think that yes, my life is cursed:

Some bastard nicked my camera from its poorly-chosen hiding place. Lots of great pics on there, gone forever. Damn, damn, damn. (Silver lining: I just had to go get a new camera...!)

Please Pull up a Chairry

I just got done watching Pee-Wee's Playhouse on Adult Swim, and damn, it's good to have ole Pee-Wee back.

Yes, it was twenty years ago that the show premiered on CBS as part of their Saturday morning lineup. Everyone was already well-acquainted with Pee-Wee due mostly to the masterpiece that is Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, but I was lucky enough to know him from this bizarre live special that I used to watch obsessively on HBO.

Much racier and adult than the movies or the kids' show, it was awesome. Pee-Wee hypnotizes this really attractive woman into stripping into this black silky underthing, and it was one of those times that I realized, Hmm, women are pretty hot.

But enough of my first steps into puberty. Pee-Wee's Playhouse is as cool now as it was back when my whole family would tape it if we were gone on Saturday mornings. (My mom was a big fan, if I remember correctly.)

You got ole Morpheus as Cowboy Curtis, Phil Hartman as Captain Carl (who was also on the live special), and this fucked-up mish-mash of cartoons from the '30s, swinging '60s go-go dancers, loads of claymation, and of course, The Secret Word.

So to all of you youngsters out there that are getting sick of Family Guy reruns on Comedy Central (aren't we all?), start watching this gem of a show, just to remember how fucked-up and cool it can be sometimes to be a kid who's a little different than everyone else.

I just dumped about a third of my wardrobe into bags to be donated to Goodwill. I also cleaned out my storage closet and alphabetized my DVD collection.

That felt good.

My blogging has become more and more infrequent.

Not sure why. It's not as if I have grown tired of it, or run out of things to say.

Mostly I'm just busy and by the time I get home I don't feel the need to expound on every little thing and to make sure the whole damn world knows my opinion of the new Camera Obscura album (it's pretty good, by the way.) I have found that it's better to keep your mouth shut more often than not.

Weird state of things in my life right now. Not sure where to turn next, you see. Old with wandering, but the fire's still in my head. Caught sight of the glimmering girl, but I've lost her amongst the trees and fields and buildings.

Purpose and direction, that's what I need. Work worth doing.

The Theatre of Frustration, Compromise, and Joy

We finished Pride and Prejudice on Saturday night to a small but highly entertained audience.

And a very proud director.

I worried throughout the rehearsal process that the show wasn't going to come together. I worried that the cast wouldn't be ready, due to focus problems and the fact that we were attempting to produce a show that ran well over a hundred pages in a very limited amount of time. The read-through was June 7th and opening night was June 29th.

22 days.

22 days for a bunch of actors whose ages ran from 11 to 19 to wrap their heads around lengthy, 19th century English dialogue; 22 days for our outstanding costume director to create 20+ outfits while simultaneously working towards getting even more costumes ready for Beauty and the Beast.

22 days for props to be gathered, sets to be built, and publicity for the show to be carried out. 22 days, with a new company of players and without my usual assistant directors there by my side. Some of the gang who have been with us since the beginning are off to bigger and better things now, like college or working to earn money for college. The small group of junior high kids I started with have grown up and are moving on to that next phase of their life.

Rehearsals took place on two different stages as we spent our final week in the performing arts center of the new high school, a space I am still learning how to use properly, considering that all I have worked with are small "cafetorium"-style stages.

Opening night was okay, but had some flaws and kinks to be worked out. Sadly, that night was our largest audience, and they missed the chance to see what the show really turned out to be. By the time Saturday night rolled around, the show had developed into a beautiful thing, and the actors learned how to not just stand under the lights and recite their lines, but to tell the story.

The audience laughed at all the right lines, the actors gaining confidence and energy as the laughs and the applause grew greater with each successive scene.

By the time the actors (and the best damn tech crew I have ever had) took their bows, Limelight had quietly turned out one of their best shows ever, and I am extremely proud of what we did.

Too bad no one really saw it.

In spite of all my promotions and hopeful spirits, it was still just a small crowd of family and friends that came to see the show.

And it's mostly my fault. I have the horrible habit of picking shows that don't really appeal to large audiences, and I had to do the show over the Fourth of July weekend so that we would have enough time to get the musical ready.

And the musical is an important show now, probably the most important show of Limelight now. We finally are getting older actors involved (for a while it was tagged as the "kiddie" show), and there is a huge amount of talent involved in this year's show. Everyone wants to be Belle this year, and Beauty and the Beast will do a wonderful job of getting us noticed by the community and will undoubtedly brand Limelight as a theatre company that does quality work that can be enjoyed by all.

It's just frustrating that the stuff I pick isn't bringing in the crowds. The audience for a youth theatre company is pretty limited to begin with, and I can't bring myself to select a show based simply on anticipated audience reaction. Doing Pride and Prejudice was compromise enough; it was witty and intelligent and yet had a recognition factor (and a large fan base) that I hoped to draw from.

Aside from that, it was a great show, and I could start another one tomorrow. In spite of everything else in my life falling to pieces, Limelight is my rock, the thing that I look forward to every single day. I worked late into the night every day of the week and woke up the next morning ready to get back at it.

In spite of the actors sometimes seeming too concerned about their social lives than their characters, in spite of the small crowds, and in spite of the fact that my crack team of directors and parent volunteers may not all be around next summer, I only have one thought in my head:

What's next?