Saturday, January 31, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN GREENVALE
We perform the show in Greenvale, NY (that's on Long Island which is pronounced with a hard 'g'.) for an oil painting of an audience. That is to say, they're like an audience, only silent. Now before you get to thinking that this is just tired-actor-sour-grapes, let me make it clear. Every single, sure-fire joke that gets at least a titter was met with tumble weeds and crickets. Every production number, no matter how lavish and exciting or how small and adorable was met with applause one might expect at a Sunday Afternoon fashion show of nurses uniforms. I've said it before and I'll keep saying it, audiences need to be reminded of the they are only part of the equation. We're all in the performance together. It's a conversation, and one sided conversations aren't interesting to anyone.
On top of "them", the show is crammed into another venue that doesn't have nearly enough space. All our back drops, except one, are cut because there is no fly gallery. The stair unit for the villa is cut, the basement stairs for the "Ruprecht" number are cut. The stage itself is shallow enough that the dancers are working hard to not dance on top of each other. Christy, the dance captain, promises that no one will receive any notes about tonight's performance given the space restrictions. Her advice? Do your best and don't get killed. In most cases, the tiny venues can be a nice change of pace, a chance to have a really personal relationship with an audience that isn't 50 feet away. Ah well.
I feel that we still gave a good show, especially given the mayhem and plethora of crew standing in the way backstage. Personally, I even enjoyed parts of the evening, but not even enjoyment in ones work seemed capable of permeating the wall of 'polite' applause and 'sympathetic' laughter.
The hotel is nice, even if it is the most expensive hotel we will ever stay at, only because hotel tax in New York State is through the roof. I decide that I'm not interested in re-living the show with everyone down at the bar. I spend $50 on wings and 2 glasses of wine from room service.
An all-day drive tomorrow to Harrisburg, PA.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN (COLD) UTICA
"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" on tour...Sometimes, to get the sweetest fruit, you have to go out on a limb. In this case, Utica would be the limb, The Stanley Theater, the fruit. This is, hands down, the most beautiful theatre we have played, or are likely to play. Somehow, it managed to escape the insult of being turned into a multi-cinema in the 70's, so the community was able to concentrate their money on upgrading and enlarging the backstage facilities. The pictures are not very good, but it's the best I could find (thanks to Flickr) and it will give you a sense of the scale and ornate-ness of the place.
There is a reception for us after the first night's performance during which the organizer asks the crowd to raise a glass and thank the cast of "The Drowsy Chaperon" for a fantastic show. Awkward pause. There is, however, plenty of beer, wine, hot and cold nibbles and live music. The music comes from an ancient square-style grand piano, circa 1840. At the keys is a tiny, hunch-backed woman, also circa 1840. Apparently, she can play anything you ask her to. She is put to the test as the alcohol continues to flow and the cast begins random performances. I leave before it gets too involved, though when Michael staggers into the hotel room 45 minutes later he is still giggling about doing a trio version of "Sentimental Journey" with Duff and Susan Johnson-Collins.
Through the night, most of the State is hit with a snow storm. Flights are delayed, schools are closed, streets are messy. The storm is supposed to go on through the night. The city of Utica declares a state of emergency. The weather channel is calling it DEADLY STORM. We, wondering what all the fuss is about, call it what we usually call six inches of snow........winter.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN AKRON
"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels - The Musical" ....on tour...
Well, it's official....Akron hated us. Oh, not the audiences. We had one crowd out of the three that was a bit stingy with the laughs and certainly didn't think that anything sexual was funny, but overall, the crowds were great. No, it was the city itself that opened it's maw to spew all over us. But let me begin at the beginning...
We are on a bus at the hotel in Sioux City by 7:30 a.m. to travel to Omaha NB so that we can fly to Chicago to make a connection for a flight to Cleveland where our usual bus and driver will meet us and drive us to Akron. There is nothing like starting your day by being violated by airport securitytheatre. It's funny how they manage to say, "Good morning, how are you, sir?", but make it sound, somehow, like they're saying, "I am well programmed cog in a wheel with too much power." By the time we arrive in Akron and check in to our hotel, it is 5 pm. The bus will pick us up again at 7 for and 8 pm show. We are already tired and a little cranky.
We are not reassured by the signs in the hotel elevator that say, "Money, jewellery and other valuables must be locked in the safe or we take no responsibility" and "You must swipe your room key to access guest floors after hours".
The situation only gets crankier as everyone discovers that there are no options for food in the area except for the hotel restaurant which seems uninterested in serving anyone. Those that order end up getting their food packaged to carry on to the bus as they grossly underestimate how slow the service is. (The food, thankfully, isn't bad). Mel, opting to try to find outside food or a convenience store, wanders a block or two down the street and enters a corner store. All conversation inside the store abruptly ceases and all heads turn to her, not in a welcoming way. She decides that this may not be what she's shopping for and leaves. Several of the store's denizens follow her down the street offering helpful suggestions like, "Yo, bitch" and, "Whore". Needless to say, we are a grumpy cast by the time we arrive at the theatre.
That night, a group of hoodlums (you know, rapscallions, unsavories) try to break into the crew bus. The crew are all sleeping at the hotel, but the bus driver, Phil, is sleeping on the bus. He gets up, chases one of the group down and tackles him while William, who drives one of our trucks, chases down another one. The police are called. The rumours are proven true: You DO NOT fuck with Phil's bus. (sidebar...Phil has been a tour bus driver for 15 years and lived through the" Jackass" boys.)
The next morning, Saturday, the search for food other than from the hotel continues, but with little success. It's downtown and it's Saturday, there are few options. I decide to take a cab to the nearest liquor store. It is a journey to Sketchville. The signs outside boldly advertise that this is a "State approved" liquor store, but the inside looks more like a pawn shop. The only booze that one can actually touch is the beer and wine, everything else is behind the long cash counter or locked behind glass. A woman at the cash is paying for a bottle of something with the last dregs of change from her wallet. As she scrounges up the final twenty-six cents, as though she was at a tent revival meeting, she shouts out, "THANK YOU JEZUS!"
When we return to the hotel at the end of our two show day, exhausted and desperate for a drink, we discover that the hotel is full of prepubescent cheer leaders. They are busy riding the elevators so it takes us much longer to get to our rooms than it should, our eardrums bleeding from them shrieking at each other in triple-digit decibels. The only balm that soothes us, is the fact that the hotel bar stays open for us after the shows and the bartender pours like it's the end of the world. The wine glasses are full to the brim, the scotch is not 2 fingers but 4 and the martini glasses are over flowing.
Is it any wonder that actors drink?
Well, it's official....Akron hated us. Oh, not the audiences. We had one crowd out of the three that was a bit stingy with the laughs and certainly didn't think that anything sexual was funny, but overall, the crowds were great. No, it was the city itself that opened it's maw to spew all over us. But let me begin at the beginning...
We are on a bus at the hotel in Sioux City by 7:30 a.m. to travel to Omaha NB so that we can fly to Chicago to make a connection for a flight to Cleveland where our usual bus and driver will meet us and drive us to Akron. There is nothing like starting your day by being violated by airport securitytheatre. It's funny how they manage to say, "Good morning, how are you, sir?", but make it sound, somehow, like they're saying, "I am well programmed cog in a wheel with too much power." By the time we arrive in Akron and check in to our hotel, it is 5 pm. The bus will pick us up again at 7 for and 8 pm show. We are already tired and a little cranky.
We are not reassured by the signs in the hotel elevator that say, "Money, jewellery and other valuables must be locked in the safe or we take no responsibility" and "You must swipe your room key to access guest floors after hours".
The situation only gets crankier as everyone discovers that there are no options for food in the area except for the hotel restaurant which seems uninterested in serving anyone. Those that order end up getting their food packaged to carry on to the bus as they grossly underestimate how slow the service is. (The food, thankfully, isn't bad). Mel, opting to try to find outside food or a convenience store, wanders a block or two down the street and enters a corner store. All conversation inside the store abruptly ceases and all heads turn to her, not in a welcoming way. She decides that this may not be what she's shopping for and leaves. Several of the store's denizens follow her down the street offering helpful suggestions like, "Yo, bitch" and, "Whore". Needless to say, we are a grumpy cast by the time we arrive at the theatre.
That night, a group of hoodlums (you know, rapscallions, unsavories) try to break into the crew bus. The crew are all sleeping at the hotel, but the bus driver, Phil, is sleeping on the bus. He gets up, chases one of the group down and tackles him while William, who drives one of our trucks, chases down another one. The police are called. The rumours are proven true: You DO NOT fuck with Phil's bus. (sidebar...Phil has been a tour bus driver for 15 years and lived through the" Jackass" boys.)
The next morning, Saturday, the search for food other than from the hotel continues, but with little success. It's downtown and it's Saturday, there are few options. I decide to take a cab to the nearest liquor store. It is a journey to Sketchville. The signs outside boldly advertise that this is a "State approved" liquor store, but the inside looks more like a pawn shop. The only booze that one can actually touch is the beer and wine, everything else is behind the long cash counter or locked behind glass. A woman at the cash is paying for a bottle of something with the last dregs of change from her wallet. As she scrounges up the final twenty-six cents, as though she was at a tent revival meeting, she shouts out, "THANK YOU JEZUS!"
When we return to the hotel at the end of our two show day, exhausted and desperate for a drink, we discover that the hotel is full of prepubescent cheer leaders. They are busy riding the elevators so it takes us much longer to get to our rooms than it should, our eardrums bleeding from them shrieking at each other in triple-digit decibels. The only balm that soothes us, is the fact that the hotel bar stays open for us after the shows and the bartender pours like it's the end of the world. The wine glasses are full to the brim, the scotch is not 2 fingers but 4 and the martini glasses are over flowing.
Is it any wonder that actors drink?
Friday, January 23, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN SIOUX CITY
The Orpheum Theater in Sioux City is one of those grand old 1920's theatre's that fell to the rise of Hollywood and movies, was converted into a movie house, then into a double-cinema in the 70's, then restored to it's original glory by a dedicated citizens and philanthropists in the 90's. Lot's of red velvet seats & crystal chandeliers. The audience for our show is large (probably 1200 or so) and friendly. The backstage space virtually non-existent and we are, once again, cutting set pieces from the show.
We have a day off in Sioux City. Trying to find something to do in downtown Sioux City is like trying to find something to do on your Grandparents' farm......in February.......when you're 14. There is nothing. Well, some buildings, some sports bars, the theatre where we played, but really,.......nothing. I run across several of the company doing exactly what I am doing, ....wandering the streets in the hope of finding some kind of diversion.....to no avail. There is a 14plex cinema a block from the hotel, but I am uninterested in most of what is playing. I end up going to see "Benjamin Button" because it's long and will eat up some time.
We have a day off in Sioux City. Trying to find something to do in downtown Sioux City is like trying to find something to do on your Grandparents' farm......in February.......when you're 14. There is nothing. Well, some buildings, some sports bars, the theatre where we played, but really,.......nothing. I run across several of the company doing exactly what I am doing, ....wandering the streets in the hope of finding some kind of diversion.....to no avail. There is a 14plex cinema a block from the hotel, but I am uninterested in most of what is playing. I end up going to see "Benjamin Button" because it's long and will eat up some time.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN LINCOLN
"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels - The Musical" On Tour...
I take back everything I ever said about Nebraska. Did I ever say anything about Nebraska? Oh, then never mind. If you've driven through Saskatchewan, you've driven through the American Midwest. I find myself raising my head from my book to be greeted with the exact same visuals I had looked at 30 minutes ago. This starts to feel like I am in a chase sequence from a cartoon with the same backdrop going past the screen over and over again. The effect it has is to momentarily give me the sense that I am floating in time and space, having no clue where in the country I might be and, worse, no idea where I'm going to. (I am reminded of a trip I took years ago to perform at an all-gay camping weekend in Ravenscrag, Saskatchewan with Stage-manager-extraordinaire Donna Sharpe. To entertain each other we would, at random intervals, shout out, "Look! Absolutely nothing!!")
My fears about The Cornholer....er, Cornhusker, prove unfounded. It is actually a Marriott and is a very nice hotel. I splurge on room service and order what turns out to be a $15.00 spinach salad, but it is a delicious creation with strawberries, oranges and almonds and worth every penny, especially given that I eat it in my robe without having to go outside and forage for food. There is a female basketball team staying at the hotel. Howard, our 6'6" drummer meets his female doppelganger who (at 6'5") turns out to be from Regina.
I take back everything I ever said about Nebraska. Did I ever say anything about Nebraska? Oh, then never mind. If you've driven through Saskatchewan, you've driven through the American Midwest. I find myself raising my head from my book to be greeted with the exact same visuals I had looked at 30 minutes ago. This starts to feel like I am in a chase sequence from a cartoon with the same backdrop going past the screen over and over again. The effect it has is to momentarily give me the sense that I am floating in time and space, having no clue where in the country I might be and, worse, no idea where I'm going to. (I am reminded of a trip I took years ago to perform at an all-gay camping weekend in Ravenscrag, Saskatchewan with Stage-manager-extraordinaire Donna Sharpe. To entertain each other we would, at random intervals, shout out, "Look! Absolutely nothing!!")
My fears about The Cornholer....er, Cornhusker, prove unfounded. It is actually a Marriott and is a very nice hotel. I splurge on room service and order what turns out to be a $15.00 spinach salad, but it is a delicious creation with strawberries, oranges and almonds and worth every penny, especially given that I eat it in my robe without having to go outside and forage for food. There is a female basketball team staying at the hotel. Howard, our 6'6" drummer meets his female doppelganger who (at 6'5") turns out to be from Regina.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN DENVER
"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels-The Musical" on tour...
We arrive in Denver as scheduled, 5:30 p.m. and check in to our sassy accommodation, The Curtis. Do visit the website, this place is a hoot, and extremely well run with every detail covered.
Turns out that Michael and the crew are in Denver as well, (though their bus is parked nearer the outskirts) so he is able to get a taxi downtown to join us for dinner. We meet up with Jillian for a martini in the hotel bar then totter around the corner to Rioja for some fantastic food and drink, including a delicious bottle of sparkling wine from Albuquerque....who knew?
Michael takes advantage of the sexy shower in my sassy hotel room before heading back to his bus, which will be departing by midnight or so to drive through the night. I find myself, once again, drunk and exhausted. Damned elevation.
I awaken at 3 a.m. and am unable to return to sleep, or so it seems, because I must have slept in order to have the bizarre dreams that are so vividly remembered. In one, I awaken to find the furniture in my hotel room moved around and my laptop smashed to bits. I catch the 3 culprits rummaging through the cupboards in my kitchen which,in awake-land is actually my bathroom. In another dream, I am an Irish terrorist transporting truckloads of nails and buckshot for bombs. We are pulled over by the police but saved from a search and arrest because a passing jet drops an engine onto the centre of town and all hell breaks loose. We turn over a picnic table and use it like a sled to get to the center of town which, fortunately, is downhill all the way.
Let this be a lesson to you kiddies.....eat early.
Today we drive to Lincoln Nebraska where we will be staying at ......wait for it......The Cornhusker. Is it just me or there an obvious play on words there waiting to be exploited?
We arrive in Denver as scheduled, 5:30 p.m. and check in to our sassy accommodation, The Curtis. Do visit the website, this place is a hoot, and extremely well run with every detail covered.
Turns out that Michael and the crew are in Denver as well, (though their bus is parked nearer the outskirts) so he is able to get a taxi downtown to join us for dinner. We meet up with Jillian for a martini in the hotel bar then totter around the corner to Rioja for some fantastic food and drink, including a delicious bottle of sparkling wine from Albuquerque....who knew?
Michael takes advantage of the sexy shower in my sassy hotel room before heading back to his bus, which will be departing by midnight or so to drive through the night. I find myself, once again, drunk and exhausted. Damned elevation.
I awaken at 3 a.m. and am unable to return to sleep, or so it seems, because I must have slept in order to have the bizarre dreams that are so vividly remembered. In one, I awaken to find the furniture in my hotel room moved around and my laptop smashed to bits. I catch the 3 culprits rummaging through the cupboards in my kitchen which,in awake-land is actually my bathroom. In another dream, I am an Irish terrorist transporting truckloads of nails and buckshot for bombs. We are pulled over by the police but saved from a search and arrest because a passing jet drops an engine onto the centre of town and all hell breaks loose. We turn over a picnic table and use it like a sled to get to the center of town which, fortunately, is downhill all the way.
Let this be a lesson to you kiddies.....eat early.
Today we drive to Lincoln Nebraska where we will be staying at ......wait for it......The Cornhusker. Is it just me or there an obvious play on words there waiting to be exploited?
Friday, January 16, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN FARMINGTON
"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels - The Musical" on tour...
Though we have done earlier load/leave times, the 9:30 a.m. departure seems harder than it should. Still, the mood on the bus is raucous as the kids re-live their evening out on the town of Colorado Springs. Eventually, things settle down as the sleep deprived nod off one by one and we are treated to hours of spectacular scenery as we climb to 9,400 feet to the mountain pass.
We stop for a meal break in some place that I can't remember, some blip on the highway. I have the following conversation with a perky local:
HER: Where y'all headed today?
ME: Farmington.
HER: Why?
ME: We are performing there tonight.
HER: WHERE?
ME: I'm not sure.
HER: Well, you won't find much there, hon. We only go to Farmington if we have to.
Back on the bus the Stage Manager and Choreographer stroll up and down the centre aisle giving people the changes that will have to be made for the show since we are in another tiny space with no fly tower and no wing space.....nothing we haven't faced before.
The crowd is small, well, tiny for what we're used to....I'd estimate 400 hundred people, but the space doesn't hold much more than that. They are a party audience and it's clear that they've come to have a good time....and they DO.
At one point during the show, Gabe asks one of our dressers how long the drive is to get to Albuquerque. The dresser stretches his arms up, clasps his fingers behind his head, languidly drawls,"That should take you about 4 hours', then nonchalantly, apologetically lets out a luxurious fart....and keeps talking. Gabe is dumb-struck. Galen flees from the room.
I believe many of the company are now in the sports bar downstairs because it's Karaoke night. I've said it before and I'll say it again, "I sing for a living, I'm certainly not doing it for free in a bar for a bunch of drunken yobs."
Though we have done earlier load/leave times, the 9:30 a.m. departure seems harder than it should. Still, the mood on the bus is raucous as the kids re-live their evening out on the town of Colorado Springs. Eventually, things settle down as the sleep deprived nod off one by one and we are treated to hours of spectacular scenery as we climb to 9,400 feet to the mountain pass.
We stop for a meal break in some place that I can't remember, some blip on the highway. I have the following conversation with a perky local:
HER: Where y'all headed today?
ME: Farmington.
HER: Why?
ME: We are performing there tonight.
HER: WHERE?
ME: I'm not sure.
HER: Well, you won't find much there, hon. We only go to Farmington if we have to.
Back on the bus the Stage Manager and Choreographer stroll up and down the centre aisle giving people the changes that will have to be made for the show since we are in another tiny space with no fly tower and no wing space.....nothing we haven't faced before.
The crowd is small, well, tiny for what we're used to....I'd estimate 400 hundred people, but the space doesn't hold much more than that. They are a party audience and it's clear that they've come to have a good time....and they DO.
At one point during the show, Gabe asks one of our dressers how long the drive is to get to Albuquerque. The dresser stretches his arms up, clasps his fingers behind his head, languidly drawls,"That should take you about 4 hours', then nonchalantly, apologetically lets out a luxurious fart....and keeps talking. Gabe is dumb-struck. Galen flees from the room.
I believe many of the company are now in the sports bar downstairs because it's Karaoke night. I've said it before and I'll say it again, "I sing for a living, I'm certainly not doing it for free in a bar for a bunch of drunken yobs."
Thursday, January 15, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN COLORADO SPRINGS
"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels - The Musical" on tour...
Practically the entire company spends the day off wandering around downtown Boise. There's little else to do but shop, poke through the galleries, drink, eat and see movies.
I take myself to see "Slumdog Millionaire" at what is possibly the greatest movie theatre ever. A little privately run art-house place with a patio for outdoor snacks in the summer. There are 4 cinemas, a video rental store and the snack counter. Forget everything you know about snack counters. Here is an overheard order from The Flicks snack counter...."I'll have the popcorn with butter, a bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale and .....oh....um....the tuna burger." Wines available by the glass, sandwiches of every description......and I can only wonder why this little place can give me an experience like this, and mega-corps like cineplex are still charging me $12.00 for greasy popcorn. Oh, and the admission price.....$6.50.
The morning comes too early. There is much crustiness as we are faced with another early morning airport. Sarah admits to a full-on rage attack when charged $15.00 for checking a bag. We fly to Denver and make a connection to Colorado Springs. Denver and Colorado Springs are so close together that we are in the air for 16 minutes. The landing is interesting. As the wheels are about to touch the ground, the plane suddenly takes off into the air again. The pilot voice nonchalantly explains that there was another plane blocking the runway, but everything is fine now, so we'll try again.
The hotel in Colorado Springs is less than desirable but the mountains are at our doorstep so we grin and bear it. Half way through the first act, none of us can figure out why we are so out of breath on stage until someone points out that we are over 6,000 feet above sea level. We soldier on, still out of breath but not feeling as old. The audience doesn't seem to notice. They are amazing and raucous throughout the show. I go out for a drink with my friend Jillian who has come from Denver to see the show. I have 2 martinis and am completely plastered. Michael has one and feels the effects as well. The next night the altitude has taken it's toll on us and we are all exhausted. Several of us avail ourselves of the oxygen tank and by intermission we are all feeling great.
Practically the entire company spends the day off wandering around downtown Boise. There's little else to do but shop, poke through the galleries, drink, eat and see movies.
I take myself to see "Slumdog Millionaire" at what is possibly the greatest movie theatre ever. A little privately run art-house place with a patio for outdoor snacks in the summer. There are 4 cinemas, a video rental store and the snack counter. Forget everything you know about snack counters. Here is an overheard order from The Flicks snack counter...."I'll have the popcorn with butter, a bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale and .....oh....um....the tuna burger." Wines available by the glass, sandwiches of every description......and I can only wonder why this little place can give me an experience like this, and mega-corps like cineplex are still charging me $12.00 for greasy popcorn. Oh, and the admission price.....$6.50.
The morning comes too early. There is much crustiness as we are faced with another early morning airport. Sarah admits to a full-on rage attack when charged $15.00 for checking a bag. We fly to Denver and make a connection to Colorado Springs. Denver and Colorado Springs are so close together that we are in the air for 16 minutes. The landing is interesting. As the wheels are about to touch the ground, the plane suddenly takes off into the air again. The pilot voice nonchalantly explains that there was another plane blocking the runway, but everything is fine now, so we'll try again.
The hotel in Colorado Springs is less than desirable but the mountains are at our doorstep so we grin and bear it. Half way through the first act, none of us can figure out why we are so out of breath on stage until someone points out that we are over 6,000 feet above sea level. We soldier on, still out of breath but not feeling as old. The audience doesn't seem to notice. They are amazing and raucous throughout the show. I go out for a drink with my friend Jillian who has come from Denver to see the show. I have 2 martinis and am completely plastered. Michael has one and feels the effects as well. The next night the altitude has taken it's toll on us and we are all exhausted. Several of us avail ourselves of the oxygen tank and by intermission we are all feeling great.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN BOISE
The "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" National Tour 2008/2009
There is no shortage of "hurry" as we are all more than happy to see Lovelock fading in the distance behind us. The drive through the mountains of Nevada for the next few hours is amazing and beautiful. Endless vistas of tumbleweeds trapped against barbed wire fences with snow capped mountains lining the route on either side of the highway. The odd farm or pasture dotted with cattle. We stop in a little sparrow-fart on the map called Jordan Valley. Most everything is closed, for sale or rent. At one time it may have been a lively place because of the goldrush, but now it is almost a ghost town, kept alive by ranchers. I walk into the "hardware" store (which has a poster in the window advertising $1,000.00 reward for cattle rustlers.....no fooling) and the old girls at the counter don't even look up from the afternoon gossip as I pass by. It is clear that this is more than just hardware, this is the local mercantile. There are a few non-perishable groceries, giagantic supplies of dog food, horse shoes of all sizes, bridles and halters, used paperback novels and some very interesting cowhide and leather throw cushions made by someone named Polly. I almost buy one for the kitch value.
Our arrival in Boise is uneventful, as are our three performances here. The audiences are nice, and so are we. Boise has a kind of relaxed, anti-hustle/bustle feel to it and the downtown area is quite beautiful. Our hotel is an amazing construct, a new concept by Marriott called Towne Place Suites. Each of our rooms is a bit like a bachelor apartment. King size bed, sofa, easy chair, work area with internet and office chair, flat screen tv, and a full kitchen. This is not your usual give-them-a-microwave-and-call-it-a-kitchen kitchen. There is a full size fridge, a dishwasher, microwave, coffee pot, toaster, a set of dishes and cutlery, pots and pans, the works. What I love about the place is that someone actually thought about how it's going to be used and really covered the details. In the large closet in the bathroom, there is a laundry basket since they have a laundrymat on site downstairs. The office/work area has corner shelves for organization. In the kitchen they've even thought of details like pot holders, corkscrew and colander. Colour me impressed.
It's Gabriel's birthday this weekend. The children went to a club somewhere last night and are planning on going to play paintball this afternoon. Just for the entertainment, I may go down to the lobby to see how many of them actually drag their hung-over asses out of bed for the paintball excursion.
Two full days off here in Boise before we fly out to Colorado on Tuesday morning.
There is no shortage of "hurry" as we are all more than happy to see Lovelock fading in the distance behind us. The drive through the mountains of Nevada for the next few hours is amazing and beautiful. Endless vistas of tumbleweeds trapped against barbed wire fences with snow capped mountains lining the route on either side of the highway. The odd farm or pasture dotted with cattle. We stop in a little sparrow-fart on the map called Jordan Valley. Most everything is closed, for sale or rent. At one time it may have been a lively place because of the goldrush, but now it is almost a ghost town, kept alive by ranchers. I walk into the "hardware" store (which has a poster in the window advertising $1,000.00 reward for cattle rustlers.....no fooling) and the old girls at the counter don't even look up from the afternoon gossip as I pass by. It is clear that this is more than just hardware, this is the local mercantile. There are a few non-perishable groceries, giagantic supplies of dog food, horse shoes of all sizes, bridles and halters, used paperback novels and some very interesting cowhide and leather throw cushions made by someone named Polly. I almost buy one for the kitch value.
Our arrival in Boise is uneventful, as are our three performances here. The audiences are nice, and so are we. Boise has a kind of relaxed, anti-hustle/bustle feel to it and the downtown area is quite beautiful. Our hotel is an amazing construct, a new concept by Marriott called Towne Place Suites. Each of our rooms is a bit like a bachelor apartment. King size bed, sofa, easy chair, work area with internet and office chair, flat screen tv, and a full kitchen. This is not your usual give-them-a-microwave-and-call-it-a-kitchen kitchen. There is a full size fridge, a dishwasher, microwave, coffee pot, toaster, a set of dishes and cutlery, pots and pans, the works. What I love about the place is that someone actually thought about how it's going to be used and really covered the details. In the large closet in the bathroom, there is a laundry basket since they have a laundrymat on site downstairs. The office/work area has corner shelves for organization. In the kitchen they've even thought of details like pot holders, corkscrew and colander. Colour me impressed.
It's Gabriel's birthday this weekend. The children went to a club somewhere last night and are planning on going to play paintball this afternoon. Just for the entertainment, I may go down to the lobby to see how many of them actually drag their hung-over asses out of bed for the paintball excursion.
Two full days off here in Boise before we fly out to Colorado on Tuesday morning.
Friday, January 09, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN LOVELOCK
The national tour of "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels"
It's true that Fresno was cold. It's true that downtown was a desolate, post-nuclear waste land. It's true that we were warned not to walk alone at night. But all of that is forgiven in light of the fact that Fresno provided us with two of the best audiences we've had on the tour yet. After our first show, we didn't think there was any way that our second night audience could compare, but we were wrong. They laughed. They hooted. They broke into spontaneous applause and they leapt to their feet. It was an auspicious beginning for our second leg, especially when you consider that we had an understudy on in a lead role for both shows.
The morning brings us the first glimmer of sunshine we've seen in California. It is a weak, coppery sun that offers no warmth, but we drink it in. Except, of course, for those that stayed up waaay too late and drank waaay to much with our director last night. Those vampire-like creatures stumble onto the bus, reeking of alcohol, eyes shielded from the light, skin glowing an un-natural yellow.
Our company manager lets us know that we will be going through the famous Donner Pass on our journey today (Yes, it's named after the wagon-train party that got stranded there and ate each other). He speaks excitedly about the extraordinary elevations we'll be reaching, forgetting that we are Canadian. When you grow up skiing Lake Louise in the Canadian Rockies all you can think about The Donner Pass is....."It's LIKE a mountain, only smaller". Still, the scenery is beautiful. We stop in a place called Carfax for lunch. The air is crisp and fresh. All is peaceful, green and serene. It reminds me of Canmore.
We quickly descend into the Nevada side of the mountains and the sunset is stunning. We arrive at our destination, our lodging for the evening, Sturgeon's Motel and Casino in Lovelock, Nevada. Lovelock, a drop of arm-pit sweat in the middle of nowhere. The scrolling sign outside the hotel proclaims, "WELCOME HUNTERS". We are in another world.
The casino is virtually empty. I order an Absolut on the rocks and am hardly surprised by my first taste. I drink enough vodka to know that it isn't really Absolut, or that it has been watered down. There are two poker tables, but no dealers. There are plenty of slot machines and video poker, but they are all penny or nickel machines.....hardly gambling. You know how some people say that gambling is just throwing away your money? Well, I've ACTUALLY thrown away more money than I could lose playing penny slots! I decide to retreat to my room and vegetate.
Clearly, we have become a group spoiled by Doubletree and Radisson as we all cringe upon entering our rooms. In reality, this is exactly the kind of place that most of us would stay in to save money. As I kneel at the bathroom sink to brush my teeth, I'm impressed at how considerate they were to build the counters low enough for people in wheel chairs. The next morning, I hear that very few people had any hot water for showers and Sarah tells me that, when the train went by in the night, her bed shook.
It's true that Fresno was cold. It's true that downtown was a desolate, post-nuclear waste land. It's true that we were warned not to walk alone at night. But all of that is forgiven in light of the fact that Fresno provided us with two of the best audiences we've had on the tour yet. After our first show, we didn't think there was any way that our second night audience could compare, but we were wrong. They laughed. They hooted. They broke into spontaneous applause and they leapt to their feet. It was an auspicious beginning for our second leg, especially when you consider that we had an understudy on in a lead role for both shows.
The morning brings us the first glimmer of sunshine we've seen in California. It is a weak, coppery sun that offers no warmth, but we drink it in. Except, of course, for those that stayed up waaay too late and drank waaay to much with our director last night. Those vampire-like creatures stumble onto the bus, reeking of alcohol, eyes shielded from the light, skin glowing an un-natural yellow.
Our company manager lets us know that we will be going through the famous Donner Pass on our journey today (Yes, it's named after the wagon-train party that got stranded there and ate each other). He speaks excitedly about the extraordinary elevations we'll be reaching, forgetting that we are Canadian. When you grow up skiing Lake Louise in the Canadian Rockies all you can think about The Donner Pass is....."It's LIKE a mountain, only smaller". Still, the scenery is beautiful. We stop in a place called Carfax for lunch. The air is crisp and fresh. All is peaceful, green and serene. It reminds me of Canmore.
We quickly descend into the Nevada side of the mountains and the sunset is stunning. We arrive at our destination, our lodging for the evening, Sturgeon's Motel and Casino in Lovelock, Nevada. Lovelock, a drop of arm-pit sweat in the middle of nowhere. The scrolling sign outside the hotel proclaims, "WELCOME HUNTERS". We are in another world.
The casino is virtually empty. I order an Absolut on the rocks and am hardly surprised by my first taste. I drink enough vodka to know that it isn't really Absolut, or that it has been watered down. There are two poker tables, but no dealers. There are plenty of slot machines and video poker, but they are all penny or nickel machines.....hardly gambling. You know how some people say that gambling is just throwing away your money? Well, I've ACTUALLY thrown away more money than I could lose playing penny slots! I decide to retreat to my room and vegetate.
Clearly, we have become a group spoiled by Doubletree and Radisson as we all cringe upon entering our rooms. In reality, this is exactly the kind of place that most of us would stay in to save money. As I kneel at the bathroom sink to brush my teeth, I'm impressed at how considerate they were to build the counters low enough for people in wheel chairs. The next morning, I hear that very few people had any hot water for showers and Sarah tells me that, when the train went by in the night, her bed shook.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN FRESNO
The hotel we are staying at is one of those multi-storied, open atrium affairs. Think of the scene in Mel Brook's "High Anxiety", shot in the San Francisco Hyatt Regency and you'll get the picture. There is currently a convention of bee keepers staying at the hotel (though officially they are The Honey Producers of America). I strike up a conversation with one of them while waiting for a cab. I mention that I'm a big supporter of local honey and have good access to it living in Southern Ontario. He assumes I am from Australia. Must be my accent.
The theatre is right across the street from the hotel...the only reason I can think of to be staying in downtown Fresno. (Three nice things I can say about downtown Fresno: There are palm trees. The Radisson has good beds. There are palm trees.) Though the auditorium itself is a bit lacking in personality, the dressing rooms are deluxe and the green room has two super-duper-deluxe massage chairs that the cast keeps fighting over. These are not your 'as seen on TV' crap chairs that they demonstrate at home fairs. These are gigantic black leather affairs worth thousands of dollars that squeeze your arms and legs, kneed and pound every part of your back and thighs and talk to you via the giant control panel that allows you to customize your massage experience.
Keely does indeed end up going on for Heather (one of the lead roles) and does a really terrific job. The audience is probably one of the best we've ever had and is right there with us from the very first syllable. It is a great way to start this next leg of the tour and the lobby lounge is full of noise and celebration after the show. I suspect that several of the boys continued their celebrating well into the morning by joining the poker at the 'card room' around the corner from the hotel.
Oh, and just in case you are experiencing any jealously at all that we are in California, let it go. True, there is no snow, but I have yet to take my coat off and I could see my breath as we left the theatre last night. It is grey, wet and cold.
The theatre is right across the street from the hotel...the only reason I can think of to be staying in downtown Fresno. (Three nice things I can say about downtown Fresno: There are palm trees. The Radisson has good beds. There are palm trees.) Though the auditorium itself is a bit lacking in personality, the dressing rooms are deluxe and the green room has two super-duper-deluxe massage chairs that the cast keeps fighting over. These are not your 'as seen on TV' crap chairs that they demonstrate at home fairs. These are gigantic black leather affairs worth thousands of dollars that squeeze your arms and legs, kneed and pound every part of your back and thighs and talk to you via the giant control panel that allows you to customize your massage experience.
Keely does indeed end up going on for Heather (one of the lead roles) and does a really terrific job. The audience is probably one of the best we've ever had and is right there with us from the very first syllable. It is a great way to start this next leg of the tour and the lobby lounge is full of noise and celebration after the show. I suspect that several of the boys continued their celebrating well into the morning by joining the poker at the 'card room' around the corner from the hotel.
Oh, and just in case you are experiencing any jealously at all that we are in California, let it go. True, there is no snow, but I have yet to take my coat off and I could see my breath as we left the theatre last night. It is grey, wet and cold.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
DIRTY ROTTEN FIRST DAY BACK
Michael and I spend the night in Toronto for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being that it is actually cheaper for us to get a hotel and airport direct transport than it is to get both of us to the airport from Niagara at crack-of-my-ass-o'clock in the morning.
The airport, at 5:30 a.m. is a 3 ring circus. Although our flights (Michael is on a different one that me) are through United Airlines, the plane is an Air Canada flight....bottom line is we get the run-around from both companies because no one knows where we should check in. (This lack of communication and direction eventually causes two of the cast members to miss their flight completely and end up spending the night in Las Vegas).
Michael heads off to his gate. I do the same (after much negotiation with airline personnel). The cast starts to dribble in. Because we are going to a very small airport in Fresno, we are all split onto 5 or 6 different flights, leaving at different times during the day and connecting through different cities. The rest of the cast on my flight begins to arrive. We find out that we are delayed by 60 minutes....it is only 8:30 a.m. and I have been up for 4 hours.
We finally leave Toronto on what is, apparently, the "Family Day" flight. Anyone who thinks that we're in a recession should take a flight somewhere. How short of money can you be if you can travel with your 3 or 4 children in tow. There are at least 10 families, all of them large, on the plane. Few of us are able to sleep.
Our connection is through Las Vegas. As we are an hour behind schedule, we have to hustle to get to the other terminal at Vegas airport, only to find that our departure from that gate is also delayed. When our plane does arrive, I am forced to point and laugh. It is a twin prop. tuna can with wings, holding perhaps 20 people. Our Stage Manager pales.
Regardless of how you feel about flying in small planes, (Heather kept clutching me arm every time we banked) there is no better way to view the beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountains. We are stunned at the spectacular views.
We arrive at Fresno and are forced to endure another delay, this one spent filling our forms because none of our luggage made it on to the plane and is still in Las Vegas. By the time we arrive at the hotel, I have been awake and travelling for 12 hours and proceed directly to the lobby lounge without even going to my room. Of course, there's no need to go to the room when one has no luggage. We hear several rumours about possible arrival times for our bags, none of them true. They finally arrive around 10 a.m. the next morning. The hotel doesn't bother to call anyone to let them know, they just stow the bags with the bellman and wait for us to call, one by one.
We hear that Heather has put her neck out at some point during the night and won't be doing the show, so we are in understudy mode. Fortunately, there is a 4 hour rehearsal call that was already scheduled simply because we've had 3 weeks off.
I guess you could say we're back on the road.....with a vengeance.
The adventure continues.
The airport, at 5:30 a.m. is a 3 ring circus. Although our flights (Michael is on a different one that me) are through United Airlines, the plane is an Air Canada flight....bottom line is we get the run-around from both companies because no one knows where we should check in. (This lack of communication and direction eventually causes two of the cast members to miss their flight completely and end up spending the night in Las Vegas).
Michael heads off to his gate. I do the same (after much negotiation with airline personnel). The cast starts to dribble in. Because we are going to a very small airport in Fresno, we are all split onto 5 or 6 different flights, leaving at different times during the day and connecting through different cities. The rest of the cast on my flight begins to arrive. We find out that we are delayed by 60 minutes....it is only 8:30 a.m. and I have been up for 4 hours.
We finally leave Toronto on what is, apparently, the "Family Day" flight. Anyone who thinks that we're in a recession should take a flight somewhere. How short of money can you be if you can travel with your 3 or 4 children in tow. There are at least 10 families, all of them large, on the plane. Few of us are able to sleep.
Our connection is through Las Vegas. As we are an hour behind schedule, we have to hustle to get to the other terminal at Vegas airport, only to find that our departure from that gate is also delayed. When our plane does arrive, I am forced to point and laugh. It is a twin prop. tuna can with wings, holding perhaps 20 people. Our Stage Manager pales.
Regardless of how you feel about flying in small planes, (Heather kept clutching me arm every time we banked) there is no better way to view the beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountains. We are stunned at the spectacular views.
We arrive at Fresno and are forced to endure another delay, this one spent filling our forms because none of our luggage made it on to the plane and is still in Las Vegas. By the time we arrive at the hotel, I have been awake and travelling for 12 hours and proceed directly to the lobby lounge without even going to my room. Of course, there's no need to go to the room when one has no luggage. We hear several rumours about possible arrival times for our bags, none of them true. They finally arrive around 10 a.m. the next morning. The hotel doesn't bother to call anyone to let them know, they just stow the bags with the bellman and wait for us to call, one by one.
We hear that Heather has put her neck out at some point during the night and won't be doing the show, so we are in understudy mode. Fortunately, there is a 4 hour rehearsal call that was already scheduled simply because we've had 3 weeks off.
I guess you could say we're back on the road.....with a vengeance.
The adventure continues.
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