A Dawg in Hog Country
When I dreamed my little dreams of touring the country with a Tony award-winning broadway show, Fayetteville, Arkansas was not one of the cities I invisioned with neon lights screaming “Drew Simpson with BLAST!” (hey, they’re MY dreams). Nevertheless, here in the pride of Northwestern Ar-Kansas is where I find myself to begin this wild little ride.
Fayetteville is similar to Athens in a lot of ways; I mean, it’s a southern college town.....ya know, they have alcohol and other things. The difference, from what I’ve been able to gather, is that Fayetteville would not cease to exist if the University of Arkansas moved elsewhere, whereas Athens would become a very bad place to be- a very bad, smelly place- if UGA up and relocated.
Suprisingly, I have really enjoyed my time here, and it’s not just because we opened the show here and started to get the rock-star vibe healthily flowing through our veins. All the local people have been nothing but hospitable (with the exception of one laudromat attendent that was clearlly NOT a local and will receive his own entry), and the crowds have been soooo amazing. Seriously, this is some caraaayzeee stuff. After the shows we sign programs, posters, and drumsticks; in addition, I’ve taken pictures with some girls, given many sweaty hugs to many sweet old ladies, tried to carry on a couple of conversations with dumbfounded 5-8 year olds, and been told by one of the 70 year old ushers ladies that she had crush on me. Not exactly the kinds of things you brag to the fellas about over a bronson, but that’s not really the point (well, Drew, what IS the point?! DO tell!).
The point is that the frickin’ sweetest part of this gig (or any performance gig) is clear to me now: if you put it out, you get it back. I haven’t played a technically perfect show yet. Now for a perfectionist such as myself, that’s something very hard to deal with ( for those of you that have performed with me before, there have been plenty of running-into-bathrooms-and-screaming-obsenities-at-the-top-of-my-lungs episodes due to relatively minor mistakes in the show). However, at no point have a let those mistakes take my energy level down for the show, and that’s what everyone talks about when the show’s over. “I just loved watching you. You have such energy.” NOT “Hey, you pretty much screwed the pooch on that 16th run at the end of Green 2, huh? (ooooooo, that goddam run (raises fist to the sky)). I will have a technically perfect show very soon, and I hope that once I do, I make a regular habit out of it. However, I don’t want to lose sight of what’s important to all of those people: the energy. LAVIT LAVIT LAVIT!!! I’M FIFTY! FIFTY YEARS OLD! Thank you Fayetteville, goodnight.
Fayetteville is similar to Athens in a lot of ways; I mean, it’s a southern college town.....ya know, they have alcohol and other things. The difference, from what I’ve been able to gather, is that Fayetteville would not cease to exist if the University of Arkansas moved elsewhere, whereas Athens would become a very bad place to be- a very bad, smelly place- if UGA up and relocated.
Suprisingly, I have really enjoyed my time here, and it’s not just because we opened the show here and started to get the rock-star vibe healthily flowing through our veins. All the local people have been nothing but hospitable (with the exception of one laudromat attendent that was clearlly NOT a local and will receive his own entry), and the crowds have been soooo amazing. Seriously, this is some caraaayzeee stuff. After the shows we sign programs, posters, and drumsticks; in addition, I’ve taken pictures with some girls, given many sweaty hugs to many sweet old ladies, tried to carry on a couple of conversations with dumbfounded 5-8 year olds, and been told by one of the 70 year old ushers ladies that she had crush on me. Not exactly the kinds of things you brag to the fellas about over a bronson, but that’s not really the point (well, Drew, what IS the point?! DO tell!).
The point is that the frickin’ sweetest part of this gig (or any performance gig) is clear to me now: if you put it out, you get it back. I haven’t played a technically perfect show yet. Now for a perfectionist such as myself, that’s something very hard to deal with ( for those of you that have performed with me before, there have been plenty of running-into-bathrooms-and-screaming-obsenities-at-the-top-of-my-lungs episodes due to relatively minor mistakes in the show). However, at no point have a let those mistakes take my energy level down for the show, and that’s what everyone talks about when the show’s over. “I just loved watching you. You have such energy.” NOT “Hey, you pretty much screwed the pooch on that 16th run at the end of Green 2, huh? (ooooooo, that goddam run (raises fist to the sky)). I will have a technically perfect show very soon, and I hope that once I do, I make a regular habit out of it. However, I don’t want to lose sight of what’s important to all of those people: the energy. LAVIT LAVIT LAVIT!!! I’M FIFTY! FIFTY YEARS OLD! Thank you Fayetteville, goodnight.