PITTSBURGH: LIVING IN THE YACO-DOME

I have used the international website airbnb.com several times, and it has already given me some great places to stay since I joined The Gazelle Tour. This time, however, I've ended up living in a real gem of a place, sharing with Andrew, our new Zazu. 

We are living in the what is lovingly referred to as The Yaco-Dome, or The Igloo, designed and built by local legend Joseph Yacoboni.

I took this pic the day we arrived

That is a bee hive on the left, from which

we've already enjoyed some honey!

Joseph is a pretty amazing guy. He's still alive, living in Florida with his wife of 58 years.  He grew up right on this same site back when it was a six-acre property belonging to his family. When he got married, he built a home right across the road and lived there for many years. The home is still there.

Joe Yacoboni's original house

viewed from our patio

In 1969, he designed and built his first dome-home, the one we are living in now. It was originally intended as a show home and his office. The place isn't big, three bedrooms in fact, but doesn't feel cramped at all. The high, domed ceiling helps this but also there is actually more usable square footage than there would be in a square-cornered home of the same relative size.

Open kitchen/dining/living area

 My room

 Our patio surrounded by forest

Plenty of peace and quiet

Here's a link to a short piece about Joseph on YouTube

JOSEPH YACOBONI ON YOUTUBE

Joseph Yacoboni, architect, gardener, nature-lover, dreamer. 

Visit his official website for pics, articles, and biographical info. on this fascinating guy. 

Thanks for the great digs, Joseph !!

CHARLOTTE, NC

I will miss this little city of Charlotte, NC. I like it here. One of my favourite things about it is the fact that it has a lively downtown that doesn't roll up it's sidewalks at 6:00 p.m., something not seen much anymore. On top of that, it's pretty, the weather is certainly agreeable (well, hot and humid, but I like that) and the people are so dang friendly! Let's hear it for that 'southern hospitality. 

And how about that great old southern-twang-accent? Love it. I often exchange pleasantries with one of the security guards at the theatre. She's a super-friendly and has a wicked sense of humour.   The other day, we were talking about clean-freak-disorder and the ridiculousness of the anti-bacterial craze. She said, (and you have to read this out loud with a deep southern drawl/twang), "My grandmother lived to 94 and she was the dirtiest ol' lady I ever met in my life!". 

I laughed so hard I darn near swallered my gum.

I found a great place to live here in 'The Queen City'. A beautiful old apartment building from the 1920's, lovingly restored and on the National Registry of Historic Places. 

Though I prefer to have a place of my own whenever possible, I am just renting a room in this place and my host, JD, is charming, very easy-going and hardly ever home. 

As it turns out, I'm in a great neighborhood. Grocery store, post office, excellent massage therapist, yoga studio all within walking distance along with the big, gay underwear store, the site of my financial de-pantsing. The store gave me an "Underwear Club" card....every 9th pair is free. I told them they might as well have shoved a crack-pipe in my mouth.

And the food,....omg the food. Across the street from the yoga studio is, FERN, a veg/vegan place that's perfect for a really yummy and healthy post-yoga lunch. Then there's MIDWOOD SMOKEHOUSE, home of some truly fine Eastern-style BBQ. It took my poor mostly-vegan-except-on-Monday digestive system 4 days to recover from the meat-fest I indulged in there. And there's BISTRO La BON where three of us indulgently ordered and shared the cheese plate, the charcuterie plate, every 'small plate' on the menu, three desserts and 3 different bottles of pinot noir. A most excellent evening.

And speaking of food...

Did I mention that this company KNOWS how to travel?

Pumbaa and Zazu man the 'company grill' between Sunday shows.

I'm still figuring out how to stream-line and organize myself for travel days. Travelling with a trunk is nice, but it does take a little thought and advance planning. Trunks are picked up on the last Friday in each city and delivered the following Friday in the next city. So you have to decide what you can live without for a week. Since we usually have an 'opening night' function the first Thursday in every city, this means deciding what you're going to wear a week in advance. And then there's all little, daily things that, when you're at home, you take for granted. What will the weather be like for the coming week? What shoes/clothes etc. will I need to cope with the climate at our destination? 

I hope I made all the right decisions this time, though it's moot now anyway. They came and picked up my trunk this morning. Which is the sure sign that it's getting to be time to move on. Five shows in three days and we'll be off to Pittsburgh!

SOME RANDOM PICS

My politically-incorrect-once-a-week-charcoal-face-mask.

Standard company issue.

All the new company members in Cleveland at the celebration of

Gazelle Tour's 100th engagement.

Nia (Nala), Me, Andrew (Zazu), L. Steven (Mufasa), and Tshidi (Rafiki)

GOODBYE TULSA, HELLO CLEVELAND

The final performance in Tulsa was definitely high-octane. Not only was the audience pumped, but it was the final performance for a number of the cast so the show had a palpable emotional charge. There were cheers and hoots. There were subtle on-stage tributes. Backstage there was cake, gifts, hugs, tears and goodbyes and then those leaving the Pridelands were released back into the wild.

Monday morning was a travel day, starting with a 7:30 a.m. airport pick-up. I'm not at my most sparkly at that hour of the morning, but my eyes were suddenly a little less bleary when I boarded the deluxe limo-bus. I was assured that this was simply a happy accident and we do not usually travel this way.

Andrew is wondering why his champagne glass is empty

In spite of being delayed on the ground in Tulsa, and our connecting flight being delayed in Chicago, we arrived in Cleveland only slightly later than scheduled. Which meant that I arrived at my accommodation pretty close to the time that I said I would be there.

My home-away-from-home in Cleveland is a private-entrance, upstairs two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of a century-old home. It's quiet and very cozy. My hostess/landlady, Denise, clearly loves her home and loves taking care of people. She makes a point of partially stocking the kitchen so that there is food and drink available for at least the first night/morning. 

Note cupboard full of stuff!

The real bonus, however, is the little 'extras' I found tucked away in the fridge.

Home baking and fresh eggs? How great is that!!

The fridge has also been stocked with a selection of fruits that I can take to rehearsal for our very long first day in the theatre. And, Denise has kindly offered to drive me to the theatre for our 10 a.m. company meeting since, in her words, I haven't had time to 'orient' myself yet.

Cozy little living room. Excellent napping couches.

Time to get moving.
 Are you ready, Cleveland? The new kids are in town!

TULSA AND I WORK IT OUT

So, Tulsa, we've had a fair amount of time alone together, you and I. I thought it was time that we had a relationship review. I'll go first.

You know, in many ways, you remind me of Lethbridge, or at least the Lethbridge I remember from my childhood. Not much to look at, but a good heart and a willingness to please. I'm not saying that you're ugly, and I certainly appreciate the steps you're taking to spruce yourself up with a hip, new look. I'm just saying that you're a work in progress and I applaud every step that you're taking. 

You'll have to forgive me if it's taken me some time to get used to your pace. Remember, I just came out of a relationship with New York City and the two of you are very, very different. For example, when I make a purchase in NYC and I say, "Thank you", the normal, expected response is, "NEXT CUSTOMER!". When I make a purchase here and I say, "Thank you", I'm still a little surprised when the response is, "Uh huh, you're welcome, hun. You enjoy the rest of your day now." Truth is, you're never in too much of a hurry to get anywhere or do anything, Tulsa, and while that's not always a bad thing, it does take some getting used to.

It's become clear that you have a love for the arts, and that makes me happy. Your symphony, your ballet, your varied theatre options. This is one of the surprising things about you, Tulsa, in a good way. 

My only major complaint about you, really, is that I find you a bit, well, empty at your core. There is something lacking at your center. This has been a problem with many of the cities I've had relationships with, of course, so perhaps I need to ask myself why I keep coming back to cities like you, but that's another discussion. 

To sum up, I adore your big sky and wide open spaces, your sparkling new arts performance and education facilities, your parks, your sense of history and your honest, down-home friendliness. And, while I'm glad I met you, I don't think we could ever have anything more than a short-term relationship. Maybe that's my problem and not yours, but this isn't really about blame. It's about what's right for both of us. Let's do our best to enjoy each other while we can, knowing that both of us will move on.

And one more thing, I know it's not really your fault, but your oppressive heat can be a little hard to take sometimes. 

THE JUNK IN MY (MISSING) TRUNK

Tulsa, OK....the saga continues...

Since our Company Manager is still unwell, our new Assistant Company Manager, Emily, agrees to take me to (finally) pick up my trunk. This involves two stops:1) US Customs & Border Protection to have it cleared, 2) Forward Air, the actually transport company.

So this morning, before rehearsal, off we go to the CBP office near the airport. I hand in my paperwork, explain the situation and then, we wait. At one point, an officer sticks his head through the door and asks, and I quote, "What's in this shit?". I explain that it's personal belongings and give him a copy of the packing list. He disappears. We wait. Eventually, he hands the paperwork back and says that the trunk is cleared and we can go pick it up from Forward Air.

We arrive at the Forward Air warehouse, hand over the paperwork to the lady who says, "Oh yes, is this the Hazmat?". I explain that it's personal belongings. She points to a skid of blue cylinders wrapped in shrink-wrap and says, "That's what this I.D. number matches. Looks like they sent us the wrong cargo." We begin to understand why the CBP officer may have been slightly confused.

Thankfully, Emily is with me and she begins to take charge since she has more background information than I. Phone calls are made, phone calls come in, messages are sent and received. We are eventually told that no one knows where the trunk is but that all of their facilities have video monitoring so they will now have to go through the recording archive to find the trunk and see where it went. No one know just how long this will take, so we leave.

I am remarkably calm through this entire episode. Surprisingly calm, though suddenly feeling the need for a big fuckin' drink. 

And so, we wait.

The original request still stands...if you happen to see 6 pairs of shoes, 2 pairs of boots, 1 box of resume photos, 1 box of desk supplies, 1 ceramic mug, 1 coffee pot, 1 electric kettle, 1 clothes iron, 3 boxes of contact lenses, 1 ceramic kitchen knife, 2 outdoor jackets, 2 dinner jackets, 1 raincoat, 1 yoga mat, 4 scarves, 2 sweaters, 12 t-shirts, 2 pairs of shorts, 3 pairs of pants and a collapsible laundry hamper...they're mine. 

Oh, and, for the record, I will lose my shit if this doesn't get sorted soon.

THE JUNK IN MY TRUNK

N.B.* I delayed publishing this post because it didn't seem right to indulge in a petty rant when so many of my friends in Calgary were fighting to save their homes from the massive flooding. While the fight is still going on, the peak of the crisis has past and a little humour isn't a bad thing.
xxx

As I am about to start travelling again ( a lot!) with the national tour of The Lion King, it seemed like a good time to re-boot the blog with this tale of trying to get my personal belongings shipped to America.

The Lion King Gazelle Tour is what is known as a 'trunk tour'. This means that I am allowed to have a trunk full of things that won't (or can't) go into suitcases. The trunk gets picked up at my accommodation in each city, and delivered to my accommodation in the next city. Sounds like a great thing since one can pack things like boots, rain-coats, small kitchen appliances etc. However, getting it picked up in Canada and shipped across an international border was not a simple as it should have been.

First, the trunk....

The company recommends the Contico Pro Tuff Bin. They try to keep the trunks similar to make for ease of moving and packing on the trucks. So, off to Lowe's I go and am quickly the owner of a brand new trunk.

And so, for days, I took on the task of deciding what I might want to have on the road with me, and packing it into my shiny, new trunk.

Then the emails started...

I have yet to meet the company manager in person, but we have been exchanging a dozen emails a day for over a week. It's like a first date.

The condensed version of the story is that shipping personal belongs across the border is a lot more complicated now than when the company manager last did it, two years ago. Forms need to be completed, passports and drivers licenses copied, letters of 'intent' written. All of this dragged on through the week, even though the trunk was supposed to be picked up on Tuesday. When at last I had printed and filled out the forms, copied my personal documents and written the letter of intent, I went to the local convenience store to fax it all to the company manager. Why the convenience store? It's the country, and it was after 6:00 p.m., and one's options are limited. 

The fax...

ME: I need to send a fax.

DEAD-BEHIND-THE-EYES GIRL: K

(pause)

ME: Do you have a cover sheet?

DBTEG: A what? Uh...I don't think so. I just scan it in and it goes.

(pause)

ME: So....do you want me to write down the fax number or......?

DBTEG: K

(She tries to send it three times. No success)

DBTEG: Jathink it's a long distance number?

ME: Um....yes. It's a 212 area code. It's long distance.

DBTEG: So I should put a 1 in front of it?

ME: (grinding my teeth to dust) Uh-huh. Ya. You should. You should do that.

By the time the fax is finally sent, it is Thursday night. I am flying out on Monday. More emailing. I am assured that someone will be in touch to arrange a pick-up time for Friday.

The phone calls....

I pace the house most of the day on Friday, drinking. Shortly after noon, I receive a call from someone who asks if I have a parcel ready for pick-up. I explain that it is a trunk, not a parcel, and YES it is, indeed ready for pick-up. 

Do I know the dimensions?

I read them from the sticker still attached to the trunk.

Do I know the weight?

Heavier than a suitcase but lighter than me.

He says he will find someone who can do the job and call me back.

Hours pass...

The phone rings again, this time a woman from Toronto wonders if my parcel is ready for pick-up. Again, I explain that it is not a parcel, but a trunk and YEEEESSS it is ready for pick up.

Do I know the dimensions?

My head and eyes begin to spin in opposite directions as the conversation starts all over again.

Hours pass...

No one has called to arrange a pick-up time, as promised, but a man arrives in a big truck....looking for a parcel that's to be picked up. AGAIN, I explain that it is a trunk. A big, motha-fuckin-trunk, and NO I don't know how much it weighs!!

He calmly backs up the truck, loads the trunk, with my help, accepts my documents and drives off. No shipping label, no signature....nothing. 

So, somewhere, out there in the world, right now, are some things that belong to me. Lots of things. So, if you should happen to spot 6 pairs of shoes, 2 pairs of boots, 1 box of resume photos, 1 box of desk supplies, 1 ceramic mug, 1 coffee pot, 1 electric kettle, 1 clothes iron, 3 boxes of contact lenses, 1 ceramic kitchen knife, 2 outdoor jackets, 2 dinner jackets, 1 raincoat, 1 yoga mat, 4 scarves, 2 sweaters, 12 t-shirts, 2 pairs of shorts, 3 pairs of pants and a collapsible laundry hamper.....they're mine. Please forward them to Tulsa, Oklahoma as soon as possible.

*Update...My trunk has actually arrived in Tulsa but is imprisoned in Customs. I cannot pick it up without the Company Manager because he had it sent to him in case it got here before I did. We are working to find a time when we can go pick it up together. Sigh.