Weird.

The summer is almost over! This is our second-to-last weekend of shows. While this has undoubtedly been a valuable experience I am looking forward to getting back to school. With any luck the coming year will be as jam-packed full of productions as this summer has been.

For Your Benefit:

I've written this entry in dialogue format. Read it with a friend.

The Internet: (Amiably) Hey Jeff! What have you been up to the last couple of weeks?

Jeff: Well, all five of our shows have officially opened, and that allows us a lot more free time. Because all five sets have been constructed there's nothing left to do but act. And clean. Lots of cleaning.

The Internet: Sounds cool. Hey, wanna look at some por-

Jeff: (Crossing stage left) Because our regular show days are Thursday through Sunday we get Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off. These days can, however, be booked for "special performances", meaning a large group of people can pay a set amount to see any show of their choice, assuming their choice is one of the five shows we perform regularly. There have been quite a few of these special performances booked but we've still managed to have three days off already, despite the fact that we've only been working for two months!

The Internet: Sweet. Hey listen, there's this site where you can see two chicks-

Jeff: On days that we only have a night performance we don't have to go to the theater until 1:00 P.M!

The Internet: Yeah right, the theater, that's great. Don't you think that you've written enough for one entry? I mean, you haven't updated your Facebook in minutes!

Jeff: (Puzzled) Internet, it's starting to seem like you don't even care about my summer. Every time I try to update you with pertinent information you bombard me with distractions until something catches my eye!

The Internet: (Apologetically) No, I do! I want to hear about all your boring crap, I really do! It's just that there's SO MANY pictures of cute kittens with funny captions out there!

Jeff: (Irate) WELL THAT MAY BE, but nonetheless I-... Did you say kittens?

!

I just cooked a thing that had ten individual ingredients! I combined ten things into one delicious thing. Pretty sure that was the climax of my life.

Choose Your Own Nebraskadventure!

*Before you get involved here I will warn you that this game is like Jumanji, if you start and then stop halfway through giant plants will fuck up your living room.

1. In early April you receive a phone call from an enthusiastic old man who calls himself 'Doc'. Doc offers you a summer job at a small theater in Nebraska. He tells you that you'll be acting in three different shows and serving as the theater's house manager. You consider Doc's offer, and then respond:

A.) "No, thanks. I don't value money or onstage experience." (Continue to number 12.)

B.) "Yes, thanks! Although I have reasonable apprehensions, I'll accept your offer!" (Continue to number 2.)

2. Having accepted Doc's offer, you receive an official contract in the mail and sign it. Weeks later some scripts and your role assignments arrive. You read the scripts. Although you don't actually COUNT your lines, it's clear that you have fewer lines than any of the other male company members. You briefly meet an alum of the theater whose first reaction to hearing you'll be the house manager is to hug you and apologize. Your apprehensions grow. You:

A.) Back out of your contract. Maybe you aren't meant to be an actor. You reconsider your career path. (Continue to number 11.)

B.) Remain resolute in your conviction to have a productive and educational summer. (Continue to number 3.)

3. The school year ends. You enjoy three weeks with your friends and family before you leave for Nebraska. On the night before your scheduled departure your friend Scott confesses to you that he's loved you for eight years. Resisting Scott's overt sexual advances you:

A.) Graciously refuse his offer of uncompromising commitment and redouble your efforts to pack your belongings for the long summer ahead. (Continue to number 4.)

B.) Ungraciously refuse his offer of uncompromising commitment and redouble your efforts to pack your belongings for the long summer ahead. (Continue to number 9.)

C.) Accept his offer of uncompromising commitment. (Continue to number 10.)

4. You leave for Nebraska. About halfway there it becomes apparent that your car will soon require more gasoline in order to continue functioning. You stop at a gas station. You fill your car with gas and head inside the station to exchange currency for the good you've received, as is expected of you. On your way to the counter your eye is caught and held by a display of impulse buy items. Reaching into your pocket you discover that you have only two dollars in cash. You decide to spend this two dollars on novelty items and pay for the gasoline with your credit card. You purchase:

A.) A lighter shaped like a handgun. (Continue to number 6.)

B.) A lighter shaped like a baseball bat. (Continue to number 6.)

C.) A lighter shaped like a fishing pole. (Continue to number 6.)

D.) A lighter shaped like a lighter. (Continue to number 6.)

E.) Something that's not a lighter. (Continue to number 5.)

5. You get back on the road and arrive at the theater at around noon. The company meets for the first time at one, so you decide to head up to the company residence to settle in for an hour before the meeting. Arriving at the residence you meet the other members of the company. They greet you enthusiastically, and you:

A.) Meet their enthusiasm in kind, talking extensively and animatedly with them about yourself, your aspirations and your interests. (Continue to number 7.)

B.) Respond quietly and unenthusiastically. You sit in the background while they get to know each other. (Continue to number 8.)

6. You get back on the road and arrive at the theater at around noon with a lighter in your pocket. The company meets for the first time at one, so you decide to head up to the company residence to settle in for an hour before the meeting. Arriving at the residence you meet the other members of the company. They greet you enthusiastically, and you:

A.) Meet their enthusiasm in kind, talking extensively and animatedly with them about yourself, your aspirations and your interests. (Continue to number 7.)

B.) Respond quietly and unenthusiastically. You sit in the background while they get to know each other. (Continue to number 8.)

7. The company quickly tires of you. You've ruined any chance of forming meaningful relationships in the first twenty minutes. You fall into a dangerous cycle of self-loathing and drug abuse. On your 23rd birthday, three years after your social meltdown, you overdose on Diet Mountain Dew and slip into an aspartame induced coma. (THE END.)

8. Once again everything you learned in middle school is disproved and being antisocial pays off. At the first meeting everyone quickly becomes aware that you're the most knowledgeable member of the company. In addition to your own duties you teach the set construction crew how to construct a set and the costume design crew how to sew. You teach a company member how to juggle. You become involved with most of the female members of the company, though none of them have knowledge of your relationships with the others. At the end of the summer president Obama approaches you and asks you for your help with the war overseas. You quickly and effortlessly win the war. World hunger sees how bad you beat up poverty and makes a run for it. You let him go. You sternly ask the sun to stop globally warming the planet and he's pretty cool about the whole thing. You write a blog making modest claims and underplaying how badass you really are. (THE END.)

9. Scott goes into a murderous rage and murders you with rage. (THE END.)

10. You and Scott live happily for about three months until his terrible taste in music and general lack of imagination drive a wedge in between you. You move on, he doesn't. (Continue to number 9.)

11. You become a doctor and make a lot of money. You're emotionally and artistically unfulfilled. Your world is a cold, sterile place. You die alone. (THE END.)

12. You spend the summer playing video games and crying. (THE END.)

Another Opening Weekend

This weekend marks our second of three opening weekends. I don't feel very creative. Here's some songs.

Philosophia

Two Points for Honesty

Fake Empire

Opening Weekend

We opened our first two shows this weekend, a farce and a romantic comedy. As we speak (or rather as I type) I'm sitting backstage during the official premier of our second show, not including a special, closed performance we did for a group this afternoon. So far (and I'll admit it's far too early to leap to conclusions about the season at large) we've had sizable but quiet audiences. Because I have small roles in these first two shows I've had a lot of down time at the theater. Fortunately Brownville is the used bookstore capital of Nemaha County, and I've managed to uncover a treasure trove of important plays at one book store in particular, 'The Antiquarium'. So far I've read Equus, Desire Under the Elms, and The Caucasian Chalk Circle. I started working on The Iceman Cometh but didn't get far. 250 pages! Pretty daunting. Still, it's nice to be able to relax with a light piece of drama after having rehearsed emotionally draining shows like Grand Prize and Home is Where Your Clothes Are for six days each. Tomorrow is a morning off so I'm gonna sleep until at least 10:30, which is an exciting prospect. I'm getting pretty worried; I don't know what I'm gonna do with all this work ethic once the school year starts again.

Song of the Hour: This Year

If My Life Was a Romance Novel:

Jeff emerged from the air-conditioned basement, squinting his eyes against the sun's harsh glare. Humidity struck him like an open hand and almost immediately glistening beads of sweat appeared on his arms and neck. Raising one hand in an attempt to ward off the golden miser's merciless assault, Jeff cursed under his breath. Could not the theatre's front porch could go another day without a coat of fresh paint? Would not the can of oil-based red enamel he firmly gripped keep another day in the cool, dark shop? A grim smile crept slowly across Jeff's face, splitting his typically stoic visage with an uncharacteristic show of emotion. Sure, the porch could wait. But could he? Upon first seeing the theatre's front porch Jeff had known he must paint it. He and the porch were tied together by the unwavering and irrevocable thread of fate. The hair on the back of his neck stood up every time he strode past it, and his heart skipped a beat every time he heard the familiar creak of its steps. Wiping the sweat from his brow and silently affirming his intentions, Jeff moved through the thick air towards the object of that intent. Three or four yards away from his ruby red mistress Jeff paused. He spoke aloud, his voice laden both with utmost respect and unmistakeable desire.

"You've waited long enough," he whispered, "and today will be the day we get you out of that old coat."

As he began his work the sun rose higher and higher in the blue sky above him. Jeff's shirt clung to him, his body drenched in sweat. The first task at hand was to gingerly remove the decaying layers of paint that gripped her sides. With the soft but firm hand of a master paint scraper, Jeff dived into the duty with ecstatic zeal. His fingers sought peeling enamel and found it with ease. Leaving only paint chips and cobwebs in his wake, Jeff disrobed the porch. Now it only remained to apply again the beauty and dignity that age had stripped away from her. Again and again his brush plunged and retreated, waxed and waned. Caught up in the delirious joy of the act Jeff lost himself, swept away in a flurry of wood and paint and tarp. With every stroke the porch beneath him found newfound life, newfound elegance. As he spread paint across its surface, delving into the deepest cracks and weariest knots, Jeff marveled at the object resting below him, the object that simultaneously served as his perch and his muse, his seat and his canvas.

As quickly as the task began it was finished. Pouring sweat and spattered with red paint Jeff dismounted. Was it already over? Must he return to the sterile cold of the theatre, separated from his beloved by unfeeling walls of stone and steel? Jeff, desperately panting for breath, was staggered by the prospect. Had he grown so close to the porch only to be untimely ripped away from it? Resigning himself to his fate, Jeff kneeled close to his mistress, whispering into a knot of wood that vaguely resembled an ear:

"I will return. Wait for me."

With these words Jeff strode swiftly away from the porch, daring not to look behind him. With every step he left a piece of his heart behind, a piece of his heart that would some day lead him back to the wooden lady that had shown him that neither age nor chipped paint can stand in the way of love.