Friends are family

I have long been meaning to talk about how much fun I have been having on The Odd Couple, and since I am finally moved in with Dr. Dexter and Catpants, I have the time.

This show has been....well, its everything I wanted it to be. A whole lot of fun, and something I could do that really made me feel confident as an actor. Oh, I dont plan on not being terrified of an audition anytime soon, and I hope to say that I wont go bragging about my "chops" at any point. But I can honestly say that Ive worked hard for this show, and I feel, for the first time, like it shows.

We had a terrific opening weekend, and every performance was fun. My buddy David J. (linked to the left) and I have decided that we are the only two people who can make each other crack up onstage. Going out, after the show, I really felt like we are a comedy team. Not only did people come up to us after the show to ask when we got from Spain (Im not making this up), one person (who had apparently not preused the program) asked me how lucky I felt to be working with my brother, playing brothers. Very lucky, I told her. In fact...

• I feel very lucky to be working with such a talented cast and crew. They truly make every performance POP, and they make backstage as much fun.
• I feel very lucky to be excited about every performance, and sad that I wont see these people again until Thursday.
• I feel lucky to be into theatre at all, because this show is why people STAY in theatre.

The only way I DONT feel lucky is that this show is closing after Saturday.

I could go into a long diatribe about my friends in the show, but I will keep it short and say that they are my family. When I am down (and boy, I have been) they have picked me up and shown me the way. I can't...there are not enough words yet.

Come see the show. Its funny, its smart, and its the best thing I have had a part of in the past year.

The one story you have to read today.

http://kutv.com/topstories/topstories_story_054093634.html

This is a story about Jason McElwain, a high school student with autism who was the basketball team manager. The coach wanted to give him a treat, so he added him to the roster and gave him a jersey. When it reached the last few minutes of the game, their team was up by double digits, so the coach gave him some floor time, in the hopes that the student would get kind of a thrill.

Jason scored 20 points in three minutes.

You know, Ive been thinking about the mentally handicapped a lot lately. One of my uncles (the one Mom is about to move in with) has a stepson with Down's Syndrome. He's only three, and "smart as a whip", I am told. Its strange to think of the mentally handicapped as being bright, but its true. Hmm.

I dont really have a point here; Im just saying that when I read this story, I was nearly brought to tears. Not to get mushier, but sometimes the world throws people down, and they seriously get up again and again to enrich everyone's lives. It helps, a lot I think, to have the people around like this kid's coach, or my Uncle and his wife, and even every single member of the basketball team who make these kids feel welcome and loved. Despite all of my opinions about God, about fate, or the state of the world at large, you can still find pure, unexploited beauty every single day. Sometimes you have to look for it. I think its great when it surprises you.

If you check out the link, make sure to watch the video. Its amazing.

Tim

For those of you who don't know, my uncle passed away last Thursday morning after a long battle with heart problems. Now, we didn't talk much, mostly because of his wife, who....Im not going to split hairs here: plain white trash. Seriously. When I met her, she was banging some dude for drugs. I met her 7 years and two kids into their marriage. We'll talk more about her in a bit.

Anyway, I could not go to the funeral for a myriad of reasons (show opening, work, money, work, lack of proper girls to hook up with at family engagements, plus the fact that I've never been hip on family) so I said goodbye in my own way, and Tim would have been fine with that. He and I always got along, as men. (He's one of the many reasons I am the way I am; he and my uncle Richie were the guys who taught me my brand of humor AND my protectiveness of my true friends and family.)

My mom went, of course, and she gave me the skinny on the dramas and goings on of our lovely family. (A quick note about my family: they are kinda judgemental at times. For me, after some of our experiences with them, I decided I would make my own family out of friends and never be bothered with people I actually HAD to care about, if you follow me.When we found out Tim had passed, it was funny to step back and see the black sheep of our family all get together to decide how to say goodbye. Mom had not seen most of these people in years, her father in decades. I think she was just as much exhausted from that as she was the funeral.)

Anyways, initially it was like any normal family gathering I did not attend. Everyone asked about me, Mom got a few offers to come see my show, many offers for she and I to come visit, blah blah, family stuff. The bad thing was that Tim's wife was there.

Pray that if you ever die (I dont plan to), you wont have this person come to your funeral. She brought the boyfriend she shacked up with the day Tim died. She had thrown out their oldest daughter and forbade her to come (she did, but only because my family stepped in; judgemental or no, my family knows whats right, for the most part). She got up, walked around, and TEXT MESSAGED during the Pastor's sermon (I hear he was so distracted that he didnt really know what to do). Several times, during the funeral and the procession, she stood up and argued with what was going on. When they finally arrived at the gravesite, she blasted the stereo from her car and literally danced with her boyfriend. Later on, I found out that before Tim had died, she had stopped taking care of him, and she had said "He just needs to hurry up and die, because Im getting a lot of money out of this." Her first words to the funeral director? "We need to make this as cheap as possible." I am not making any of this up.

Now, the reason I tell you all this is because it was amazing how much my family pulled together around my mother and her father, the two who probably were the most torn apart. They formed a protective wall around each other, and did their best to say goodbye to Tim in a way that would have made him feel happy and loved. And, because its MY family, they offered to kick Tim's wife's ass for my Mom (Damn straight).

Its always strange what family does to me. I haven't talked to these people in years, but they are ready immediately to step up and take care of us. I realize, now and again, that I have a great family, we just get pulled apart by the world and our amassed problems.
I dont know what tomorrow may bring, as the old saw goes, but I feel better knowing that Mom always has a place to go if she needs it. And I see that perhaps I was wrong, and I dont want to have no family after all.

My favorite part of the funeral story was a true Tim moment, and I want to share that with you before I go back to bitching about work and money and chicks.

Tim had told me many, many times, from a hospital bed, was that he would not be missed, and would not be loved, and that no one would come to his funeral. I always told him all I could, that I loved him, and Mom would practically carry the casket herself. He would smile sadly, and go back to being in pain, or asking about me.

During the processional, Mom was in the car following the hearse. When she looked back, she saw a line of cars miles long, full of people who loved and miss Tim, and who all wanted to pay their respects to someone who deserved it. She said it was amazing, and Tim would have been so thrilled. When the processional reached the gravesite, the hearse missed the turn, and they had to go around the long way.

My uncle Richie laughed and said, "Oh geez, I can hear Tim now: 'Look at all those people here for me! Let's take another spin around the block so everyone can see!'"

The Odd Couple

Here are a few photo's from Friday's rehearsal, taken by yours truly. Ah, Dave. The best bro in the whole wide world.
These are our two leads, Sheila and Shannon. Sheila and her fiance Kenneth have become the best new friends I have made on this production.
Shannon plays the girl I want to sleep with in the show, and fits the role nicely, as she and Sheila both are drop-dead gorgeous. I begged Victoria not to make this face. She insisted.

She is also gorgeous, although you cant really tell from here.

Remember to check out www.lakesidetheatre.org for details.

You know, I'm not one to be all blowhard-y, least of all on people who exercise their right to freedom of speech. I think its one of the most important amendments, the First, because its the one most commonly threatened. And I think we should stand up for ourselves when our rights are fucked with. But...

I've been reading a lot lately (lately=in the past few years) about kids in high school standing up for their rights WAY too much. Some kid wore this, some kid wants to wear make up, some guy wants to dress as a girl, some girl wants to wear a lip ring, and each and every one of them are horribly offended and GOD KNOWS what will happen if they aren't allowed to wear/do whatever they want. And all of the stories contain the words "The community has rallied against the school board" or "The community is in an uproar" or "the child's parents have showed unconditional support.

I can honestly remember in high school several times when I wanted to wear something that was against the rules. You know what I did? I DIDN'T WEAR IT. And if I really really wanted to, guess what else? THE COMMUNITY DIDN'T RALLY BEHIND ME. Now, I don't mean to say that this is a personal, me-type issue. I just mean that school KIDS might want to stick to school WORK. Maybe then they pass their goddamn school TESTS and be able to GRADUATE without being 24.

The other issue, in my mind, is the fact that, guess what, you aren't allowed to wear whatever you want in a job-type environment. If I came in tomorrow in a corona shirt, wearing makeup, with vaginas hanging from my ears, I would get a talking to, and probably a firing. And HR and the community and Jesse-Fuckin-Jackson would be fine with it.

I guess my real point here is that I'm sick of so many of our rights and problems being overlooked while some kid wanting to wear a kilt gets national attention.

So, here's my official statement:

If you are in high school, and are not making straight a's, and are not in a club or committee of some sort dedicated to saving the world, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

And you know what else, if you are the parent of a kid in high school, and you have a problem with how your child is being treated, TRY A PTA MEETING. The media is not here for your amusement. If you tried being interested in your child BEFORE their "rights were violated", maybe your kid wouldn't be attempting to look like a character from the opera Faust.

Valentine's Day For My Ass

So, as you might expect, I'm going to rant about Valentine's Day. Not because I forgot it, and not because it's stupid, but because some people make a stupid deal of it.

Today, everyone in my office went around and made sure everyone was wearing red. What the fuck!? It isn't St. Patrick's Day! If Im not wearing red, what, do I have to fuck you? IM NOT READY FOR THAT KIND OF CELEBRATION COMMITMENT. I can assure you though, if the thing about wearing red was true, I would not be wearing red. That's just the kind of Cool Hand Luke type I am.

Now that all of that is off of my chest, I hope you all have a good time planned. I will be home alone, packing to move out of my house before we are evicted. Fuck you all!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Man, it was dark outside when I got to work. Its all rainy, and nice. I wish it wouldn't make me so sleepy, but I can deal. Mostly, it just makes me think of how much I will miss these mornings when we move.

Now, I realize that Seattle has its fair share of rain. But there is something about a day in Texas when the weather is as moody as the women. I guess it will always feel like home.

(Home meaning the old-school, where I come from home.)

Why I Fail

So, I'm not going to be too detailed in my blog today, but I will let you guys in on a little secret.

I will be moving out of my mother's house and staying with friends very soon. Its not because I want to, or because I am abused there, but because my mother has not had a job for almost 6 months, and I cannot afford to support her or all of our possessions anymore. The only way for me to be able to live, much less for me to be able to have any sort of financial future, is to leave mom pretty much in the dust. I hear her plan is to wait for 6 weeks and then move with a friend to Indianapolis, so her friend can help her get back on her feet. (I dont know how she will last for 6 months, though.)

At this point, I am not angry anymore about any of the details of this entire saga. I had been since the beginning (this whole thing was Mom's fault, with no question, and she basically ruined us), but now its worn off into sheer sadness and regret.

So last night, I finally came out and confirmed to my mother that I was leaving, and soon. She never takes these kinds of things well (the last time I mentioned it, she wept and said I was giving up on her). It went alright, though, at least to me. I made it clear it had nothing to do with me being angry, or wanting out. Its just a thing I literally HAVE to do. I also made it a point not to put any blame on her during the conversation. I was talking about this with my closest friends, Catpants and Dr Dex last night. Catpants was astonished that I would not try to get through to her in any fashion, even if its yelling and screaming. I understood, but I told her that she did not have my Mom.

So many times, I have tried to "stand up" to her, and she never actually listens. It all goes into her ear as suggestion and, by the time it reaches her brain, it has turned into preachiness or a personal attack. Nothing ever changes except for the fact that she walks around crying, and I feel like a complete asshole for a week. It seems Ive found the worst way of giving up on someone, but one that is necessary from time to time, I feel: to not make any more arguments, because nothing will change. I'm already leaving, why go through that in the bargain? And it occurred to me that this is a thing I have.

While we were talking last night, we delved deeply into the argument of whether to stand up and fight with someone because of their problems, or just to get used to them. I told Catpants and Dr Dex a true fact, and one that kinda explains my philosophy on relationships (at least part of it).

Catpants and the Doc are my closest friends now, and the only ones CLOSE to them are a couple girls from high school (they read this blog, and know who they are and how much I miss them). Growing up, I HAD no close friends. If some shit went down with someone, whether it be my own or theirs, it would pretty much be the end of that relationship. When I was young, I probably went through more friends than anyone else because none of them were close enough to stay friends through the shit.

So, nowadays, I have about two speeds of friendship: Full On, or Full Stop. (There are exceptions to this rule, but they are very rare and are the result of hard work on my part). If I am Full on with somebody, I will live with their good and bad qualities, and work around them. If I am Full Stop...well, there's no contact whatsoever.

So, I now get ready to leave the person who was most important to me for most of my life, and hope vaguely she can make it without me. I know its not normal, I know its not fair to me, but I still feel like I have failed somewhere along the way. But perhaps that just my Mom in me.