Never again

Oh my dear god. The double show day today was insane! We ended up at a middle school where, I shit you not gentle readers, our set could not fit into the room. Now, I don't mean it was tight and made some of the blocking difficult, or the stage was barely big enough to fit our set, or that we ended up having to hang all of our costumes on set pieces stored in what passed for wings. I mean the set did not fit in the room! We cut the proscenium because the ceilings were too low for them to fit. Hell, the doorframe was almost too high to fit. What this meant, of course, was that the Headless horseman had no scrims to hide his entrance, we had to cut half of the wing extensions since they attach to the legs of the prosceniums, causing us to lose 50% of our backstage area, and all the costumes and props had to be placed in rooms adjacent to the stage since there was no room to put them onstage. Oh, and did I mention the deadlift of everything up onto the stage? And the fact that Schneider had somehow managed to wreck his back overnight so he was unable to lift anything, meaning I had to unload the truck with Ted, who is game for anything, but doesn't know how everything goes. Flo helped me load the truck back up after the show, and while she did less jumping ahead in order, she isn't as able to lift things as Ted. And let us not forget this as in Naples, FL, so it was WARM. VERY warm. I was NOT a happy camper, and spent much of my time during setup telling myself I would never do this job ever again because there is no excuse for bringing this show into a space that is so unable to handle it that most of it gets cut and even what we do keep doesn't fit well at all. I swear to GOD, if they insist on continuing to take any booking at any dinky space, regardless of the measurements and dimensions, then they HAVE to put together some sort of backup system that utilizes fewer set pieces, fewer lights, and is just plain easier to deal with. The actors should not be running around until 15 minutes before curtain putting things together because there's no realistic way to make all the pieces fit. ARGH!

Our crew was a mixed blessing. They were all very enthusiastic about the concept of theatre and of being actors, but they were a little weak on the practical skill of being a stagehand. There was a lot of standing around. But when they did help (and in fairness, it's not like they know what to do until someone tells them something) they certainly got into it. The reason we did two shows today is because since we were using their cafeteria, they had to keep half of it set up for lunch, so they could only fit half the eighth grade in the room at a time. Surprisingly enough, the two shows we did today were, I think the best so far in terms of performance. Technically, they were what they were, and I make no complaints considering the dumbass situation we found ourselves in. But amazingly, I think all the stories had their strongest performances. Perhaps it was because the audience was very into the show and very vocal about their appreciation. I mean hooting and cheering at the ends of stories. That's always a wonderful thing to have happen, especially after such a tough load-in. It wasn't quite as bad as I was making it out to be in my head during setup--I think I was just tired and not happy about any of the situation. I mean hell, the space we were in would have given the other two local touring programs I've worked with, either in FL or IL, trouble. And then Levitt gives us notes in between shows. Really? considering it's lucky that we even got a show up in the first place, and all of your actors are dealing with the fact that not only is all their blocking different since we couldn't put up any of the prop shelves that put things within easy reach, but all the wigs and facial hair are coming unglued because it's so damn HOT. But I do have to admit, when you end up performing for a group of kids that are so taken with what you do, then it does kind of make it worth it. But only KIND OF.

In between shows, before we ate lunch, we did a Q&A session with the students taught by the teacher who had written the grant that got us there. That's always fun. I know a lot of actors dread talkbacks, but I really enjoy them. I like getting a chance to talk to the kids who have just seen the show, and also in helping them learn more about what they've seen. I don't understand some of the approaches to it though. For example, some kid asked us how much money we made. Now, that's a perfectly understandable question for an eighth grader who may be planing on breaking his mother's heart and becoming an actor. And as far as I'm concerned, I have no problem answering it. But Levitt jumped on it right away, saying, "That's something we don't discuss." Now I understand not getting into specifics of each person, since I believe we are all being paid different things, but I see no reason why it's a problem to say, "The job typically pays $500/wk." Where's the harm in that? Thankfully, we were able to talk around it, reminding all of them that they really shouldn't think about the money if they want to be an actor, but I don't understand what the hell we were guarding against. That's an annoying habit of adults--knee-jerk denial instead of taking half a second to figure out a way to answer a question that may have a delicate nature. But the kids seemed happy with how it went, and like I said, the second show also went very well. Load out was a little slow, partially because we had to shift the stuff that had stayed on the truck around to get the other stuff back in, and partially because we had to wait for levitt to get the stuff we needed out in the right order. Unfortunately, she sends it out in the order she chooses, regardless of what we ask for. In fact, when I sent someone back in to ask for the wig boxes and makeup cases prior to the platforms (like I've done every day for the past two weeks) they came back out and said she snapped at them. Now part of it seems to be personal issues with her on-another-tour-than-her husband, but even so. But it was all forgotten once we had gotten into the van. We had a mere two hour drive, and that was lovely--until we all wanted to stop for beverages (I'm not kidding about the dehydration--I believe I sweated more today than I have in the past 6 years!) and Levitt wanted to stop for food. So we all stopped for beverages, then drove her across the street to get food. She then got pissed no-one else came in, even though we all had told her none of us were hungry. So she got a salad to go and was apparently all pissy. AND I get to be stuck in a truck with her tomorrow for 500 miles. Why did I do this again? Oh right--no other jobs.

It wasn't all bad. Bob, Ted, Flo and I went out to dinner and after following Bob around until he found food more to his liking than the gay dive bar we stopped at, we went back to the gay dive bar where the three of us got food and drinks and Bob got to experience the sight we all had of Ted dancing. I am trying to get pics of that night, but it seems everyone who had a camera that night either has a busted computer or no computer at all. I shall continue the fight, though, and hopefully there will be photographic evidence of the night in Savannah. That's what I'm willing to do for you, gentle readers. I'd say I was willing to undergo deep personal embarrassment, but we all know that precious little, if anything, embarrasses me. I mean, hell, I deal with a rubber chicken every day and work with a guy dressed up like a frog. What the hell could embarrass me? But now I am tired and ready for bed. The two show day and all the other stuff has wiped me out, so I am going to crawl into bed and sleep until I have to be in the truck tomorrow. These people are so lucky I like them....