There are days you just feel old...

And last night was a roller coaster of feeling that way then not feeling that way. We had our first full run-thru yesterday, and it did (as expected) kick all of our asses. This show is an energy-sucking black hole when you first start putting it on its feet, and since it was also the end of the week, most (if not all) of us were also dealing with mental and physical exhaustion from trying to throw this thing up in about half the time it usually is thrown up. (Or as I like to say, upchucked.) But the run went pretty well, especially for the fact it was the first, and we were complimented on being as far along as we were. And Tell-Tale Heart didn't suck big donkey balls yesterday as it apparently did the day before, so I felt better about myself as a human being. (It really is a lot easier when you just give in to the fact you do everything the way they've done it before and remove the attempt to bring anything new to the character) So it was with a mix of exhaustion and celebration that Bob, Ted, Alice, Flo and myself headed across the street to Dublin House for drinks after rehearsal. Carol couldn't join us as her boyfriend had just gotten into town and she had other important things to attend to. We had quite a spirited time (and no, that wasn't a pun, no matter how much you all may think it was. I promise) particularly since the place was completely empty when we got there, save for one older black man who I believe works a day job as a Wal-Mart greeter. I say this because he  came over to our table multiple times, encouraging us to eat and drink as much as possible, informing us that not only did 999 BILLION people live in Dorchester, but all were well over 500 pounds, so we had a lot of catching up to do. We also discovered he was the owner and operator of an airline company--New Low Airlines, the selling point of which was not only low prices (we'll fly you anywhere for $2) and unique locomotion methods (It's just like the Flintstones. EVeryone picks up the plane and runs really fast. No non-stop flights) but also the forward-thinking plane design (All our planes FLOAT! Just like the one in the Hudson!) Thankfully he remained jovial throughout our stay and didn't do the  switch from fun-and-happy-hale-fellow-well-met drunk to bitter-and-argumentative-give-me=some-money drunk. Despite (or perhaps because--I do not underestimate the bonding powers of crazy drunken strangers on a group of almost-strangers themselves) his presence, we had a laugh-filled evening discussing topics from how to tell a true board-game nerd (Apparently if you know the company Avalon Hill you rate) to how long one must know Alice before she reveals whether or not she can tie a cherry stem in a knot with her tongue; from the fact Jack Lemmon kicked everybody's ass in Glenngary Glen Ross to the fact Ted likes to surgically devour eggs and suck chicken wings clean of any trace of meat. So all in all, a typical two-hour conversation for a group of actors sitting around imbibing very good whiskey at very reasonable prices. ($4 for Jameson!!!) After about 2-2 1/2 hours of this, it was appearing as if the group was going to break up and head our separate ways, save that Alice and Flo decided they wanted to find a karaoke bar. This was the first moment I started feeling old, because my first reaction was--I need to go home and go to bed, or a least just relax and not do anything. But, thank whatever force looks out for mid-30's karaoke whores with an inherent need to make a fool of themselves in front of strangers, I decided to say the hell wit it and join them in their search. This of course, made me feel decidedly NOT old, which lifted my spirit-soaked spirits. I knew of a place that I had found near Boston Common the last time I was here, so I suggested we try that. Bob and Ted declined to join us, and so the three of us shivered our way downtown to find some place to blow off a little Chamber-induced steam.

The place I had seen did exist, and was open. It's called Limelite, and besides having a large room with a stage where you can gather with strangers to perform for each other, it also rents out private karaoke rooms. The place is very popular, because it was only 8:30 or so and it was packed. We paid the cover (yeah, a cover at a karaoke bar. Boston ain't right) and bought some drinks (NOT reasonably priced) and found a table right between the blare of the speakers and the whoosh of the cold air coming down the steps whenever someone opened the door. It was filled with college kids who were already well in the bag by 9 p.m. and all dressed like they were in some ultra-hip music video. I marveled at the female of the species' ability to withstand all manner of discomfort for looking good (way too many short skirts and fuck me pumps for the weather we had, but they seemed fine with it) and chuckled that they could do that, but killing insects was still beyond them. The KJ (yes, that's a technical term) was playing music in between the karaoke songs (in between every single one of them, which i found a little odd) and it was of the dance club hip-hop "oh wait, there are lyrics to this thing?" type, which brought BACK the feeling of being old. Luckily, I've been dealing with THAT feeling sine I was about 16, so it wasn't too bad. So the three of us signed up, and it was at that moment that I discovered that this tour is going to be a lot easier than the last, if only in the music department, because both Alice and Flo are nuts about old music--to the point where the music the KJ was assaulting us with was on their "I really can't handle this" list. I mean, Alice, who is the youngest person in the tour at 22 was up singing Patsy Cline and the Drifters. (I know that sounds like one group, but ti isn't) and Flo sang janis Joplin, Frank Sinatra and Linda Rondstat. There was a little moment of panic when Alice had a couple of drunk Solid Gold Dancers on stage with her and the fella in the couple decided to leave his partner (who was so far gone by then, I doubt she noticed) and see if he could get close enough to Alice to learn what she could do with a cherry stem, but she soldiered on and all was well. I of course opened with Viva Las Vegas, which was received decently, sparking another round of "Jesus am I old" thoughts, but when I switched to Joe Cocker I got better response. Of course by then all the under 21s had to leave, so I was performing to a somewhat older crowd. Thankfully both Alice and Flo are the type who feel they've been 40 since they were 6, so all in all, we were all sharing an equal feeling of being slightly out of place. 

We hung out singing and imbibing until about 11:30 or so, when we realized we had to get going since in Boston the subways stop running around midnight. May I just say--WTF??? I found this out last time I was here and I still can't wrap my head around it. What is the point of having mass transit that can get you anywhere n the city and outlying neighborhoods if it stops running before the bars close? And almost all the bus line stop before the subways! I don't get it. But we made our way back and parted company around 12:30 when I got off the subway to walk (yes, walk--n freaking buses) back to where I was staying and they stayed on the subway to get dropped off two seconds from their house. Lucky them. The nice thing was that despite the milieu we found ourselves in for most of the evening, the feeling old was only faint and vague, and I spent most of the night having a very good time, and patting myself on the back (figuratively--otherwise I'd throw out a shoulder, I just know it) for NOT being an old fuddy-duddy and going out to have a good time. It's little things like this that make my day at this point in my life. Chances are we'll go back again before we hit the road, because it was a lot of fun, and the stage and everything was actually quite nice. They need to learn how to better the balance between the music and the microphones, but most places have that problem. It was funny because when I got back home, I was actually still wired from being out and didn't get to bed until about 3:30 in the morning. Now there's something I haven't done since I was young. I also find it interesting that while I do make a point of joking about the fact I am usually more advanced in years than most of the people I work with in kid's theatre, I don't usually feel that way (save for when I make a point of making a joke about it) I've reconnected with 14 of the other 15 people I attended the Burt Reynolds Insitute for Theatre Training with via Facebook, and I find it funny that I look at the pictures they have posted of us back then and even though that was 13 years ago (dear god) I still feel most of the time like it was just a couple years. I don't feel that much different than i did back then. Maybe that means I'm hopelessly immature and incapable of being a fully functional adult (sorry hon.) but I don't know. I just like to think it means I'm not going to become boring. And let's face it, that's WAY more important than being a responsible adult...(again, sorry hon...)