So far I've spent most of my Labor Day weekend at home, relaxing and reading after a long (but great) first week back at work.
I find myself going back to a certain day from this summer: June 29th, to be specific. It's been burned into my head for a lot of reasons, one being that it was my friend Eric's birthday, which I forgot, too wrapped up with Limelight and the constant toll it takes on my ability to pay attention to the outside world.
A lot of other things happened that day, but, like I mentioned in an earlier post, I find it very difficult to write about them. Some very profound things happened to me that day, but I just can't put them into words. The few people that were there that day may understand, to an extent, what happened. But it doesn't seem right to turn them into a little story. Every day the impact of what happened seems to reveal itself to me more and more, and I feel like I need to keep it close to me, to try and figure out what it all means.
It basically boils down to a couple of very difficult goodbyes I had to make that day. It's interesting to see how people deal with farewells: some want to pretend that it isn't happening, others want to have that "moment," in order to put a proper end to an event. Some maybe want to quietly slip away, knowing that it isn't really a goodbye, it's just the start of something different.
All I know is that goodbyes are important to me; I like endings, at least for the fact that they allow you to have perspective on something. I don't know what would be running through my head now, if that day had gone different, if the goodbyes had been something other than what they were. All I know is that after that day, I am now a very different person.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Duder and Swannie
I just spent several days up in Door County, which is in Northern Wisconsin. For those not from this area. Door County, and Wisconsin in general, is a place where Illinoisans travel when they want to get away for a weekend.
We are generally referred to as FIBs, or "Fucking Illinois Bastards." Still, we pump a lot of money into Wisconsin's economy, so they need us just like we need them. Like sharks and them little fish that tag along.
Anyway, here's an interesting story from the Door County trip. There is a theatre company up there called the Peninsula Players, a place where a lot of the Chicago and New York talent go to get away from the cities and work with different people.
A long-time Limelight member has been doing an internship up there all summer, and had hoped I could make it up there to see the place and to catch one of the shows. It was an extremely busy summer for me, but luckily the Duders wanted to go up to the cabin before summer ended.
I can't get any cell reception at the cabin, so it was a bit tricky trying to track Eric down. But (different) Eric and I found him eating lunch in the mess hall. He jumped up and gave me a big hug and proceeded to give us a tour of the place, all while carrying his plate of food with him.
We saw the new 700-seat theatre, the scene shop, got an up-close look at the set, and then he took us to his barracks. Yes, barracks. I think that's the right term.
The directors and the Equity actors get fairly plush accommodations up the hill, but the interns get a more rustic cabin at the edge of the lake. The view is gorgeous, and you get to fall asleep every night to the sound of the water lapping against the shore. A nice gig for someone who's spent the last two years living in the south Loop.
"Yeah, but we had to cover the ceiling with tarp, otherwise we'd wake up covered in bat shit every morning."
I don't know how that reads, but if you hear Eric Swanson say it, it's hilarious. He has a rather unique voice, usually peppered with plenty of profanity, and can make a phrase like, 'How's that meat taste?" into something legendary.
Eric (i.e. Duder) and I caught the show that night, and it was good. A fairly-obscure romantic comedy about witches and sin and death. We had great seats and got to hang with Swanson and most of the players after the show, drinking dark beer by a big bonfire.
We were talking to Tom Mula, who played Scrooge for a number of years at the Goodman's annual production of A Christmas Carol, when Eric/Duder said, "Hey, I'm just a meathead, and I really enjoyed the show!" Tom quickly turned to Greg Vinkler, the director of the show (and Artistic Director of the Peninsula Players), and said, "Here, you need to hear this."
Tom asked Eric to repeat what he had said, word for word, and it seemed to make Vinkler the happiest man there. I guess the show hadn't been as well-received as the others, but if a "meathead" like Duder enjoyed it, well...it's nice to hear these things.
Talked to Mula and Vinkler for a while (Vinkler is known for his legendary performances of Falstaff in the Chicago area), and then it was time to pack it in. Eric (Swanson) walked us back to the van, and I marveled at the changes that have come over him in the past two years. He was confident, mature, and spoke about acting, and theatre, with a deeper insight than I had ever given him. The boy's growed up good, and I'm incredibly proud of him.
We are generally referred to as FIBs, or "Fucking Illinois Bastards." Still, we pump a lot of money into Wisconsin's economy, so they need us just like we need them. Like sharks and them little fish that tag along.
Anyway, here's an interesting story from the Door County trip. There is a theatre company up there called the Peninsula Players, a place where a lot of the Chicago and New York talent go to get away from the cities and work with different people.
A long-time Limelight member has been doing an internship up there all summer, and had hoped I could make it up there to see the place and to catch one of the shows. It was an extremely busy summer for me, but luckily the Duders wanted to go up to the cabin before summer ended.
I can't get any cell reception at the cabin, so it was a bit tricky trying to track Eric down. But (different) Eric and I found him eating lunch in the mess hall. He jumped up and gave me a big hug and proceeded to give us a tour of the place, all while carrying his plate of food with him.
We saw the new 700-seat theatre, the scene shop, got an up-close look at the set, and then he took us to his barracks. Yes, barracks. I think that's the right term.
The directors and the Equity actors get fairly plush accommodations up the hill, but the interns get a more rustic cabin at the edge of the lake. The view is gorgeous, and you get to fall asleep every night to the sound of the water lapping against the shore. A nice gig for someone who's spent the last two years living in the south Loop.
"Yeah, but we had to cover the ceiling with tarp, otherwise we'd wake up covered in bat shit every morning."
I don't know how that reads, but if you hear Eric Swanson say it, it's hilarious. He has a rather unique voice, usually peppered with plenty of profanity, and can make a phrase like, 'How's that meat taste?" into something legendary.
Eric (i.e. Duder) and I caught the show that night, and it was good. A fairly-obscure romantic comedy about witches and sin and death. We had great seats and got to hang with Swanson and most of the players after the show, drinking dark beer by a big bonfire.
We were talking to Tom Mula, who played Scrooge for a number of years at the Goodman's annual production of A Christmas Carol, when Eric/Duder said, "Hey, I'm just a meathead, and I really enjoyed the show!" Tom quickly turned to Greg Vinkler, the director of the show (and Artistic Director of the Peninsula Players), and said, "Here, you need to hear this."
Tom asked Eric to repeat what he had said, word for word, and it seemed to make Vinkler the happiest man there. I guess the show hadn't been as well-received as the others, but if a "meathead" like Duder enjoyed it, well...it's nice to hear these things.
Talked to Mula and Vinkler for a while (Vinkler is known for his legendary performances of Falstaff in the Chicago area), and then it was time to pack it in. Eric (Swanson) walked us back to the van, and I marveled at the changes that have come over him in the past two years. He was confident, mature, and spoke about acting, and theatre, with a deeper insight than I had ever given him. The boy's growed up good, and I'm incredibly proud of him.
Monday, August 04, 2008
The Merry Drives of Windsor
From the Motor City you can take either a bridge or a tunnel to cross over into Windsor, Canada.
I took the tunnel, because it was there.
After I arrived at my hotel Friday night I puzzled over what to do with my day in Detroit. Visit that one place that has all the stuff Henry Ford collected? Motown museum? Do they have one?
But when you have Canada a mere five minutes away, well my friend: you go to Canada.
I'm sure the Canada I saw isn't the best possible representation of Canada. I'm figuring Windsor is...well, the Detroit of Canada. And that's not saying much.
I'll be honest: one major reason I wanted to go to Canada is so I could go here:
This is the historic district of Sandwich, part of greater Windsor.
In case you didn't know, I'm from Sandwich, Illinois, so this is kind of like meeting a long-lost twin brother.
The signs were about the most interesting thing going on in Sandwich, to be honest. So that's all you get.
Well, and this guy riding a little scooter down the main street.After touring the historic district of Sandwich, I was feeling a bit peckish, so I drove around Windsor for a while until I found a decent place to eat.
Since I wasn't able to travel overseas to Ireland this summer, (the first time since 2003), I figured I had to recreate the experience as much as possible.
Passport and U.S. Customs? Check. Bags packed with all necessary electronics and reading materials? Check.
Irish pub that serves good beer? Check.
After a buffalo chicken wrap that only the Canadian Irish could make, I headed back to the states. Now, the drive to Canada took five minutes. On the way back, it took an hour. Apparently the Canadians were invading our shores to catch the Kenny Chesney concert.
So then there was the wedding itself. It took place at the Grosse Pointe Unitarian Church, which was a pretty cool structure, I have to say. Like being inside a cornucopia.
The reception was held at The Guardian Building, in downtown Detroit. A gorgeous Art Deco building from the 1920s that had been restored to its former glory. Walking around in it, you couldn't help but feel like you had been transported back to another time.
There was also this bow-tie wearing fellow, which helped add the the ambiance. He was one of my favorite guys there. I think he came free with the rental of the building.
Thankfully this building kept me mesmerized for most of the festivities. It was a wonderful reception, really; but ever been to a wedding where the only two people you know are the bride and groom? They don't have a lot of time for socializing, you know.
I could have skipped the wedding, but Jane really wanted me there. She and I used to teach next door to each other, and we both held each other up a bit while realizing we didn't want to be doing the jobs we were doing. And Vic was always there to be another miserable guy at parties full of giggly elementary school teachers.
She and Vic are now in Seattle, and I'm in a better place as well. Hopefully I make it out there one of these days to visit them, so we can catch up properly.
Lots more pictures of Canada and of the Guardian building can be found here.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Detroit City
So......Detroit.
Got here shortly after sundown. Drove along the downtown riverfront a bit until I found my hotel, tucked away in a small corner that took me a few minutes to locate.
The hotel is nice, although the bar was empty (more or less) when I went in to grab a beer and a late snack. So now I'm stuffed with potato skins, Heinekin, and Jameson. A modified McNulty diet.
The good news is there's no smoking ban in Michigan. So I enjoyed one of life's beautiful treats: sitting at a bar and having a smoke. They took it away from me in Ireland and Illinois, but I was able to enjoy this fading pastime.
Not that I smoke regularly. Usually when I'm working on a show I find myself having a cig or two, but I'll have to give up the fags here in the next week or so. No need to stay on that horse too long.
Now I have to figure out what to do with my day tomorrow. The wedding isn't until six, so I have all day. I'd like to get a good hike in somewhere, but I'm pretty unfamiliar with the place.
And then there's Canada. It's right across the river. I could go to Canada.
And then there's this girl. She got married last weekend. Part of the greater Limelight family, my assistant director last year on Julius Caesar, and one crazy-ass girl.
Wedding was a fun time. Got to see some of the other members of the theatrical community I've gotten myself mixed up with. Got to eat some pork. Got to hang with Kate a bit. Got to hear a lot of Beatles music.
So anyway....I'm in Detroit. And I'm in the Eastern time zone. So I'll probably be up until 4 am or something. Because I'm on one messed-up sleep schedule right now. This is what happens when your work schedule shifts to the evenings.
Time to see what trouble I can get myself into. Maybe wander my hotel a bit. I'm pretty much the only white guy here, so this could be real fun. I really hope I'm able to get myself invited to one of the many room parties that are going on around the hotel. I'll be sure to take many pictures of me hanging with real live African Americans. Mos def.
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