A Sad Ending to a Very Sad Story

Okay, not really. Well, sorta; I’m sad that this little slice of heaven is coming to a close. It’s a line from the show. I’m on the plane now, flying to Atlanta for a three plus hour layover before taking a final flight to Chicago’s Midway. (I’m continuing to write this as I sit in our Atlanta gate waiting to get out of here to go home. I reeeeallly want my own bed and to use it right now!) We arrive @ about midnight. Nice. Tomorrow will undoubtedly be spent sleeping, sleeping and sleeping some more. There wasn’t a whole lot of sleeping going on during the trip; at least not by most of my cohorts. Sleep is super important to me, and I knew the moment that sleep received less face time would be the moment sickness would settle in. By the end of the shows today, the majority of us was ready for a return to normalcy. Our own beds, our own showers, and our regular diets (not that I don’t eat out most of the time anyway.) Lots of stuff to talk about, so forgive the possible jumbled outcome of my final thoughts on the tour.

It went a great deal faster than I would ever have anticipated. Oh how I loved this entire experience. It makes me love the fact that I found such a thing as theatre (or did it find me?) There were moments of sheer joy over the past 5 days. A lot of panic as well. The joy included those first moments as we entered the venue and saw where it was we would be performing. Wow. The Van Wezel (not pronounced like “weasel”; which they made clear on signs in the dressing rooms) was a beautiful place to perform; even though we had the “surly” union folks putting up our set pieces. “Union guys; so surly and lazy” comes from The Simpsons; just so you know. We ran our first number w/ our mikes (a giant pain in the ass) and the space (which holds about 2000 people) made for a goose pimple-inducing couple of moments. All of us out there, singing our hearts out, and seeing that vast space before us. I had that moment of being on a massive stage; hundreds of seats and insignificant little me in the middle of it all. It was pretty great. I think this is the largest venue I’ve ever played in. And since the Chicago theatres I’ve been a part of are usually about 100 seats or so, this was quite a change. I believe the mainstage theatre in college seated about 800. Sleeping Ugly was listed on the marquee going north on the main drag in Sarasota. I failed to get a photo, but what the hell! I LIVED it. Tee hee!

One of the things that I find most appetizing about getting to know all of the cast and crew so personally; is that when we begin our Chicago run, we’ll already have an incredible, deep history together; even if it only has been a month of rehearsals and the several days of 24-7 exposure. It’ll just serve to make our interactions in our full run that much richer and comfortable. I’ve completely enjoyed everyone; and feel lucky to have become part of this circle. Everyone’s very cool and there was very little drama for the past several days. Kudos!

A few of the notable catchphrases of the tour:

“My Goddamn (pronounced mah-gottamn!) At one point on the road; Leah tried moving her seat in the van, to make herself more comfortable. She stated, “I can’t move my Goddamn chair back.” Thus, these special words were born. For future use, it can be implemented in almost any situation. For instance, “Where are my Goddamn shoes?” or “Why is my Goddamn kid crying?” or “My Goddamn watch stopped working”. Oh so many places that it would be appropriate. However, let me reiterate that it must be, “Mah Gottamn!” Lesson completed.

“See…” The talk on the town while we were cavorting about FL was the type of dramatic language you might hear in an old 30’s or 40’s gangster flick. Matt was particularly adept @ this. While he took it to an artistic, transcendent level, the rest of us were able to incorporate the word, “See” in to most conversations; and that’s about it. An example, “We’re gonna be late for our entrance, see”, or “I don’t eat that kind of seafood garbage, see.”

“Damp meadow” One of the many nasty new terms we discovered for genitalia. This of course, refers to the woman’s personal areas. There was much more talk about all things nasty and forbidden, but I’ll spare the younger members of my audience (of which there are none).

“Who wants to bury me?” While we were lying on the beach on the second day, all was quiet and relaxed. For no reason at all, I offered, “Who wants to bury me?” Everyone else was tickled by this question, and thus it was repeated ad nauseum for the remainder of our journey.

As is common in the world that I live in (no one else seems to get it), I quoted Mommie Dearest whenever the mood struck me; which quite honestly, was every half hour or so. Leah and Colleen have never experienced this Faye Dunaway classic and are now jonesin’ to take a gander. The most oft-repeated phrase from the film; over the past several days was, “Look at me Tina!” It just works.

“Coffee” pronounced “Cyaw-fee”; Jill’s rendition of some woman from her past. It is meant to sound like a southern woman w/ emphesyma and still looking for additional smokes at all times of the day and night. Use this as needed when entering a Starbucks or other coffee establishment.

I quickly became known as the “Van Mother”, for I was the one to most often complain or tell the others to knock off their childish behavior or to figure out when it was time to eat; generally all the time.

Heard on stage:

The correct line: “My father is the king, my mother is the queen.”
How it was actually delivered: “My father is the queen, my mother is the queen.”
(fyi, I am the “father”.)

More tour details later...