Golf Ball Sized Hail/ The Show Must Go On/ We Never Age, Do We?
Yesterday was Lunatic.
Opening night of midsummer night's dream, a sizable audience, nice weather. The sky started looking a little grey and threatening halfway into act one but we thought we could stick it out. After intermission, there was loud thunder and visible lightning but we figured the rain might miss us. We started act two. Exactly five minutes later the entire cast and crew is sprinting through torrential downpour, running benches and costumes and electrical equiptment across the marsh like/martian terrain of lyon's park. It hailed. Hard. Ok, not golf ball sized hail, but definatly marble sized. Chaos, madness, rushing to take down the material from the trees and to cover the props, running blind, soaked to the bone within thirty seconds, in costume, stage makeup running...
UnF***ingBelievable.
Needless to say we did not finish the play last night. Today, it is still raining. We will be trying to pull this thing off inside the Girl Scout house, because everyone knows, the show must go on...
As far as the rest of the evening goes, it will go down in personal history as a surreal and pivitol night. It was just another clear example of how my relationships to the adults in my life are constantly changing. These days, and especially after last night, I'm starting to understand that no matter how old we get, no matter how mature, aging is a myth. There is no threshold into adulthood that I will eventually cross. I will always be myself, just me and my good intentions and my ideosyncracies, floating along with my developing wrinkles and my colorful coffee mugs. And when I get together with my friends, we will still do the same stupid things and make the same filthy jokes and drink far too much wine. And the kids will have no idea.
Off now, to sacrifice a goat to the gods of theatre...
Opening night of midsummer night's dream, a sizable audience, nice weather. The sky started looking a little grey and threatening halfway into act one but we thought we could stick it out. After intermission, there was loud thunder and visible lightning but we figured the rain might miss us. We started act two. Exactly five minutes later the entire cast and crew is sprinting through torrential downpour, running benches and costumes and electrical equiptment across the marsh like/martian terrain of lyon's park. It hailed. Hard. Ok, not golf ball sized hail, but definatly marble sized. Chaos, madness, rushing to take down the material from the trees and to cover the props, running blind, soaked to the bone within thirty seconds, in costume, stage makeup running...
UnF***ingBelievable.
Needless to say we did not finish the play last night. Today, it is still raining. We will be trying to pull this thing off inside the Girl Scout house, because everyone knows, the show must go on...
As far as the rest of the evening goes, it will go down in personal history as a surreal and pivitol night. It was just another clear example of how my relationships to the adults in my life are constantly changing. These days, and especially after last night, I'm starting to understand that no matter how old we get, no matter how mature, aging is a myth. There is no threshold into adulthood that I will eventually cross. I will always be myself, just me and my good intentions and my ideosyncracies, floating along with my developing wrinkles and my colorful coffee mugs. And when I get together with my friends, we will still do the same stupid things and make the same filthy jokes and drink far too much wine. And the kids will have no idea.
Off now, to sacrifice a goat to the gods of theatre...