Dirty Rotten London

We arrive in London in plenty of time to do a little life administration. I make use of the free time to find a haircut and visit the market.

On the bus, there has been much discussion as to whether our show is at 7:30 or 8:00. This uncertainty apparently arises from the fact that we still don't have a signed contract from this venue. While I can understand how this might account for the lack of information, I wonder aloud if anyone has thought of contacting the box office by phone or on line. I'm certain that the people who are purchasing tickets will have a time printed on them. This idea is met with a why-don't-you-go-be-a-smarty-pants-somewhere-else glare.

As it turns out, the showtime is 8:00, so we arrive at the "theatre" with time enough to have a meeting about the newest wrinkle in our lives. Canadian Actors' Equity, in it's infinite wisdom, has decided that, under the terms of The Canadian Theatre Agreement, it is illegal for us to do a spacing rehearsal and/or sound check before our half-hour call. They consider this a proper rehearsal which can only take place provided that there is a minimum of 90 minutes break before the half-hour call. It doesn't take a team from MENSA to figure out that this is virtually impossible with the kind of schedule we're working on. The spacing is not so much of a problem. The sound check is....but I'll get to that.

The reason "theatre" is in quotes is because we are playing the John Labatt centre. This is where people go to see hockey games and rock concerts. It's an area. An ice rink, not a theatre, in spite of the fact that they sell a "broadway series" out of this venue. Take one large hockey arena, add a portable, raised stage and a mountain of black masking draps. Section off one quarter of the arena at one of the round ends and place the stage on the ice that has been covered with a layer of insulation. The sectioned off 1/4 becomes the "theatre" and the remaining 3/4 of the arena becomes "backstage".

Given the "no sound check" rule, the first half of the show is a nightmare as mics explode with squeaks, pops, bangs, screeches and howls....that is, when they're working at all. The orchestra, as well as a significant portion of the audience, are freezing because, even though the ice has been covered, the cold still seeps up through the insulation into one's feet/legs. The temporary stage is hollow underneath so the sound of huge set pieces being rolled on and off is deafening. I start a rumour that Disney and Columbia Artists have begun negotiation for "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels On Ice", to do a tour of arenas around the country next year.

Still, the show goes well yet again. I am very surprised that when Christy sings the lyrics "Watch me blow the little fuckers heads right off" she gets a huge laugh. Not the kind of response one expects from uptight, middle class London.

We drink, knowing that we have to do it all over again for today's matinee before getting on a bus and traveling to a place called Gaylord, Michigan.

Dirty Rotten Hamilton - The Dirty Rotten Scoundrels National Tour

Ah yes......Hamilton. It's kind of a double edged sword to be here. We're happy to be back in Canada for a few days, but we're stuck here in polluted, piss-stained Hamilton until we leave for London on Saturday. Ah well, the theatre is nice and the shows are selling well.

Yesterday....
We wake in Roanoke VA and board our bus at 4:30 a.m. to begin the 3 hour drive to the airport in Charlotte NC. Most of us manage to sleep the whole way. It is THE MOST traveled day of they year (thanks to American Thanksgiving) and the airport is already swarming with people, but there is plenty of staff everywhere and things go very smoothly. Some of us are introduced to a new tool in America's on-going efforts to fool itself into a sense of security with it's security theatrics. It's a bit like a glaucoma test for your whole body. Little puffs or air are blown at you and any chemicals present on your body are lifted off and read by sensors as they float in the air. Only random people are subjected to this however so, ......security theatrics.

The flight is uneventful. We land in Toronto around 11:30 and clear customs without incident. We are notified at this point, however, that the crew bus and the trucks carrying the show have not crossed the border yet. We begin making plans to do a 'concert version' of the show. We check into the hotel in Hamilton and stumble onto the street among the crack-whores to try to find food. The hotel is right across the street from the theatre so we notice that the crew bus has arrived (1:30). This give us hope. Some food, some shopping, a cocktail, a nap, a shower and it's time to get to the theatre for the 6:30 call. We arrive to discover that the show is pretty much ready to go. The crew has performed a Herculean task by unloading and setting up two, fully loaded semi's in 4 hours. We are stunned.

This afternoon we, that is all of us who are understudying someone else, are called to do an understudy run of the show. Then another performance tonight. Then a well deserved day off tomorrow. Maybe we can join the unemployed and uninterested at the bingo palace down the street?

Also, as of this posting, I will start putting these entries on my blog so that anyone can read them.
www.actorinexile.blogspot.com

Drone Of Arc

I have been actively enjoying live theatre for more than twenty years. In that time I have walked out of 3 plays, the third being last night, Shaw's "St. Joan" at The Shaw Festival. I have always, always believed that even a bad play is better than what Hollywood thinks is a good movie, and can usually find some reason to stay in my seat. Why, I sat through four and a half hours of Shaw's "Heartbreak House", challenged, confused, bored at times, mystified at times, but the production fed me enough to keep me going. Last night's production fed me nothing and by intermission I was suffering severe malnutrition. Where have all the directors gone?

If an actor falls in the forest...

My posts have grown fewer and fewer over the past year or so. Symptomatic, I think, of my loss of interest in the business at large.

I recently made the decision to take a big step away from acting for an un-defined period of time. And these are the reasons why:

• I'm tired of the new acting style that everyone seems to be in love with, where there's a lot of raging around, 'dancing your pain' and chewing the scenery, but very little truth, subtlety or detail

I'm tired of seeing people who are far, far less talented than I get the roles because they are either in 'the circle' or because they have been tossed up the charts as the next big flavour of the month.

• I'm tired of charlatans and snake-oil salesmen getting hired as artistic directors. They seem very good at bamboozling a board and talking a good game but ultimately mis-lead and mis-represent the acting community and the public they're supposed to be serving.
• I'm tired of an apathetic public that would rather see 98% of their movie dollar go to America than see 99% of their live theatre dollar stay in Canada.
• I'm tired of the lack of interest from government.
• I'm tired of putting my dreams and plans on hold as I take the jobs that keep me on the road.

Let me assure you that, though all of this could be read with a heart-breaking symphony in the background and self-pitying vocal waver, that is not the case. I am simply tired of many aspects of it. As I've said to many friends, "I still really like my job, I'm just not finding that my job is liking me very much these days."

The point being, though I will leave Actor in Exile posted on the web, it's content may change as I begin to explore other areas of my life. After all....the journey IS the destination...right?

Hair Raising!

Considering that "Beauty & The Beast" is an enourmous show with a big cast, tons of props and costumes and numerous complex scene changes involving two different pieces of a moving stage, very little has actually gone wrong. Last night, however, was doozy.

At the top of Act II, Belle is running through the forest when the wolves set upon her and the Beast arrives to save her. During the wolf fight, one of the wolves accidentally pulled off the Beast's wig, leaving him with just the beast mask and the actor's very, very, short hair. There was nothing they could do but go on with the scene.

So, when Mrs. Potts, Lumiere and I enter, we were a bit stunned since we couldn't see what had occured. My first thought was, "Who's that guy with Belle?".

The Beast was a rock and was determined to continue to play the scene as though nothing was wrong until he had a moment to get offstage to have his hair replaced. Lumiere, on the other hand, could barely keep it together. Everytime I looked into his eyes, I could see that the slightest little thing might just send him into a giggle fit.

This torture dragged on for a good 10 minutes until the Beast, finally, managed to quickly run off stage during a scene and get re-haired. Then, however, I had the unenviable task of singing the lyrics, "Perhaps there's something there that wasn't there before", at which point I though Lumiere was going to explode. And Mrs. Potts had to repeat those lyrics ..... TWICE!!!

We couldn't wait to get off stage and break loose.

The magic of live theatre.

Attack of the snow

OH MY GAWD! The city of London Ontario is under seige....by the elements. When I left for the theatre tonight, around 6 p.m., there was already some serious snowfall underway...traffic down to a crawl, very low visability, that sort of thing. But when I left the theatre a mere 4 hours later I had to clean one foot of snow off my car! A foot of snow in 4 hours.

There were these two ladies parked behind me, who were at the show I'm sure, who begged me for help. They were convinced that they would'nt get their car out onto what is current passing for road because the snow was up past the tires. So, I drove their car out for them and they said (in the best Slavic accent you can muster) "Oh, thanks you. What we would have done without you. God Bless You."

Now, a BIIIG glass of wine

More notes to MP's

And my friend Jason sends a note to his MP on the same-sex marriage issue:

Dear Mr. Keddy:

As a new constituent in your riding, I wanted to write and express my support for you in voting against re-opening the debate on equal marriage legislation. I understand that Prime Minister Harper intends to introduce a motion this December that could revisit an issue that has already been decided in Parliament (Bill C-38, which I applaud you for voting for).

While I understand that MP’s have an obligation to represent their constituents in Parliament, I believe that reopening this issue would be remembered in years to come as a failure to protect the rights of *every* Canadian regardless of colour or creed. I wholly support your strength on this matter, and look forward to writing you again in December to congratulate you on sticking to your guns.

Perhaps you could remind those who oppose “same sex” marriage, that marriage, in and of itself, is the perfect way to *stop* sex. When you think about it, it’s actually a fantastic way to support the views of those who oppose the idea.

Regards,

SPEAK NOW

With the Canadian government forced into a voting on the issue of same-sex marriage by Steven Harper and his immoral majority, I've been doing my best to spread the word to everyone I know that this time to speak is now. Here (reprinted with her permission) is what a friend of mine sent to her MP.

"Please reconsider your stance on this matter. I am a woman who has enjoyed a 37 year traditional marriage but also a woman who has spent 46 years in the theatrical industry. Consequently, I have a good understanding of the gay community and all they ask is to be treated as first class citizens of our country as set out by our constitution. The matrimonial home will not be destroyed by this. In fact it will show we truly are a country of tolerance and diversity. We tout this so proudly when it's convenient. But how can I honestly speak of our county with pride knowing so many of our fine and productive citizens are considered lesser human beings simply because they were born with untraditional emotions. I might have been born with a different colour skin. Would I have been denied this. Never and nor should I have been. Please don't rob us of our tolerance or our pride!"

Because the churches have been organizing letter-writing and phone campaigns (the new century version of saber rattling) we need to send a clear message to the government that this issue has already been decided and that we are well aware of the fact that it is a convenient tool for them to use while distracting us from larger issues that should be dealt with.

Please have your say....and soon.

Don't know who your MP is? Click HERE to find out.

The evil people are showing their true colors, are you showing yours?

DAY OFF

What a hellishly long and tiring week. There were 25 (or so) really tired, brainless people pulling a matinee out of their asses today. Lumiere blanked completely in "Be Our Guest", I could barely focus on putting one foot in front of the other, and most of the company was hanging on by a thread. Earlier this week in the green room, we were talking about toothbrushing (isn't backstage conversation stimulating) and the director admitted that she was so tired that she sat down while brushing her teeth and almost fell asleep with the toothbrush still in her mouth.
For now, I have a blissfull 48 hours (well, almost) where I do not have to channel my inner clock. I will rest and do my best to begin the therapy for my tortured neck muscles. I should buy stock in Deep Cold and Motrin.

THE DUCK

OH MY GOD. I am so out of practice with telling theatre stories that I totally forgot to make an entry about THE DUCK.
In the opening number, "Belle", Gaston shoots a duck out of the sky and Le Fou comes racing into the market place yelling, "I got it. I got it." He then does a skid/dive across the stage and the duck falls from the sky, landing several feet away from him. The rest of the company responds with an loud, long, "Eeew", and leaves the stage.
The duck that they've created for our production probably only weighs a few pounds, but at the height its falling from it sounds like 70 pounds when it hits the stage.
During a tech run, something in the timing didn't quite work and the duck fell directly onto Le Fou's back. We couldn't have done it more perfectly if we'd tried. The company, horrified, made an audible gasp, then, seeing that the actor playing Le Fou wasn't dead, recovered enough to leave the stage making something like the "Eeew" sound like they normally do.

Beauty & The Beast Tech Week

There were times during our technical rehearsals this week when all of us felt that we might never get to the end of the show. But, we made it, and even managed to make it through an invited dress rehearsal without having to stop.

This is not to say that it's perfect by any means. Most of the work to still be done involves costumes. Many pieces aren't finished yet or need to be revamped to make them more usable.

I'm sorry to say that my headpiece is causing me some severe neck pain and I think I'm going to have to ask that some changes be made. They've worked very hard and created something really great, but I can't live like this for 6 weeks.

Pictures soon.

Closing in on opening

End of the second week of rehearsal and, boy oh boy, are we ready to get on the stage. The show really has a heart and soul of it's own at this point. And, my usual rehearsal-exhaustion is kicking in , right on time. Could barely focus for more than 5 mintues at a time today....and I wasn't the only one.

Stopped in to the theatre on my way out of the building to see how the set was looking. Even in it's half-completed state IT'S HUGE !!!!! My God !!! Can't wait to start playing on it.

Noticed today that the kid that's playing our teacup spends an awful lot of time cuddling with all the boys in the cast (he's 12) and virtually no time with the girls. Hmmmmm....wondering if the writing is on the wall. He spent the better part of this afternoon's rehearsal either using Jason's back for a pillow or sitting on my lap. And yet...while I watch his actions with a knowing curiosity, I love the fact that he's still young enough to seek and demand affection from whomever he likes. What a delightful age, to not be too 'grown up' to hold hands, to approach basic, comforting human contact with pure innocence.

Visitors for A Run THru

Did another run-thru of the show today after working lots of little details all week. The cast of the current show that's playing, "Mums the Word", came to watch. They laughed and cried in all the appropriate places and said that, even though they'd all seen the show before, they didn't realize how much of a love story it was. They also said that our production was already 10 times better (in the rehearsal hall) than the production they'd seen in Vancouver....at the end of it's run !!!

Seems we're heading in the right direction, no?

BOOTY & THE BEEF

We've spent the last two days doing lots of detail work, tearing the scenes apart to see what we can discover about them. Exhausting, but sooo informative. And, we've spent much of the time laughing. Everyone in this company is a master of the one-liner or the off-handed remark.

Babette (the feather duster) embarrassed the hell out of Lumiere today. She came running in to the scene, calling his name like she is supposed to, but she added a little butt-wiggle. Lumiere was so focused on her perfect, tiny, little dancer's ass bouncing up and down that he forgot his next line.

I had a fitting this morning since wardrobe had reached stage where most of my costume and clockworks are tacked together. The head gear is going to take some getting used to since I can't move my head, and because I have clock-arm pointers on my hands, I don't really have any dexterity either. The whole thing looks great though, and the wizards in the wardrobe department are making much of it up as they go along. I'll try to post some photos.

BOOTY & THE BEEF

End of the 2nd week of rehearsals for "Booty & The Beef" and things are moving along as they should. I begin to fret when we launch into long discussions that we don't need to have simply because when we're actually on the set, everything will make sense. i.e...."Yes, I know I'm walking through a wall. When it IS a wall, instead of a tape line on the floor, I won't walk through it." (Thank you Liz Gilroy). Still, the show already has a sense of purpose behind it even if the details are still quite ragged. It's an odd process since 1/3rd of us have done the show together before, and only last year. So the "new" people seem left to the task of 'catching up', when really they all deserve a medal for absorbing as much as they have in 2 weeks. (It's a HUGE show, and everyone seems to continually forget that.)

Since I didn't get home last weekend because I was moving, I'm enjoying some couch time along with Michael (it's our 6 year anniversary), our adorable little cat, tuxedo, and our foster cat, Big-Fat-Alice. A mere 40 or so hours at home. Funny how it becomes a luxury so quickly, isn't it?

End of the first week of rehearsals in London and I spent the day off moving. There was a shortage of housing and I had to wait for "The Graduate" to close so that I could move into the place where I will now live until Dec. 30. My new home is a marked improvement from my last one where there was no stove/oven, no bed (only a futon which doubled as the couch) and there wasn't really a bathroom to speak of, only a sink, toilet and shower installed in the laundry room. So, when you sit on the toilet, you not only have you knees under the sink, you are also sitting next to the furnace. This is what $100.00 a week gets you. My new place has an actual bed in it's own room, an actual bathroom with a spacious shower and a lovely kitchen that I share with the homeowner. And....there is a GoodLife gym 3 blocks away and an Irish pub with free wireless internet about 5 blocks away (this is a minor miracle since London seems completely uninterested in wireless internet connections in it's public spaces).

B & B RIDES AGAIN

Rehearsals have started for The Grand's production of "Beauty & The Beast" in London. The show is going to look amazing. The set and costume designers (Judith Bowden and John Dinning) have allowed themselves to be inspired by the great illustrators Maxfield Parrish and Edmond Dulac. Everything is very, very rich, colorful, detailed, lush , textured and full of fairy-tale touches.

DISNEY STRIKES AGAIN

I leave for London tomorrow to start rehearsals for "Beauty & The Beast" at The Grand on Tuesday. Once again into the fray of Disney-fied happiness. Though I am hoping that because this theatre company understands the value of rehearsal time and takes it's art and it's performers seriously, there may actually be a more meaningful show the ends up being unearthed this time. Oh, and did I mention a director that knows how to direct?

Bodyworlds

Went to see the BODYWORLDS exhibit at the Vancouver Science Centre today. I admit that I did have some brief, minor moments of squeemishness when I remembered that these were actual bodies that I was looking at. Overall, however, what I took away from the exhibit was two things: One, that we are really very small creatures when you look at us in a purely physical sense, and fairly fragile too. And two, without an energizing force in the body, animating it, giving it reason and context in it's environment, it is only a body, a lump of protein and water that might just as easily be a bowl of pudding. So......what IS that energizing force? When will they be able to plastinate a soul?

Full Circle

I'm feeling a sort of 'full-circle-ness' from being in Vancouver. Not two blocks from where I'm staying is the old Tivoli theatre (it's coffee place now, like every piece of prime real estate in Vancouver) but it's also the place where I saw "The Rocky Horror Show" when it first came out in the late 70's when I was living here. ....and now I've played the lead on stage. Also, I had lunch today with an old friend with whom I did a production of "Bent" years ago in Calgary. (I mean...many years ago...probably 1986 or 87). So here's the question I ponder.....if you are re-visiting things from so long ago, does this mean you have come full circle and its time to move on, or is it time to learn the things you didn't learn the first time around?

SHORTBUS

I just saw John Cameron Mitchell's new film, "SHORTBUS" and I'm totally impressed. I think he's really broken new ground and created something quite extraordinary. Though the film has been sensationalized for it's graphic sex that IS NOT simulated, what the characters end up revealing is far more interesting. And what the actors end up revealing is much much more than their physical parts. For me, the intense honesty of some of the scenes, the total openess of the performers was far more humbling and even more uncomfortable than the release of some fluids on screen.

This film is a brilliant study of our search for intimacy & acceptance and our own realization that it never comes from anyone but ourselves.

ROLLERBLADING BY THE SEA

I made a realization today as I was rollerblading the sea-wall around Stanley Park. Even though I grew up land-locked, I have always loved being near or, better yet, in the ocean. Today, however, I realized that its more than just wanting to be near it, I only feel complete when I'm near it. Its as though I have an extra limb that can only survive in the salt water and it waits for me to return to it again and again so that the final piece of me can be re-attatched once more.

I'M WITH STUPID

Ok. So, I have a new favourite stupid question:
"Do you have anything else...like....other than what's on the menu?"
This question was asked AFTER I had told them about the daily specials.

Here are my two possible answers:
1) "If we had anything else, don't ya think we'd have put it ON the menu?"
2) "Yes. Yes we do have other things. But not for you."

As the signature on my email reads now:
"It's not that I think stupidity should be punishable by death, I just think we should take the warning labels off of everything and let the problem work itself out."

IDIOTS WITH PASSPORTS

I have a week and a half left at the restaurant, the weather is cooler, the week-day tourists seem to be fewer, but the general level of stupidity remains at a constant high. I could barely restrain myself the other day when someone said to me, "Sir, are these menu prices in American or Canadian?" Through gritted teeth, I replied, "Funnily enough, when you crossed the border, EVERYTHING became Canadian!!" Also still getting our fair share of French, German and Dutch tourists who seem to be able to read enough english to navigate the menu but can't quite figure out what GRATUITY NOT INCLUDED means.

GIFT CARDS

I just saw an article about the government of ontario planning to legislate the expiration of gift cards. See, most of them expire about 18 months after their purchase date and it would seem that there are soooooo many lazy, empty, stupid, shiftless idiots out there that just can't seem to find the time to spend that money in a mere YEAR AND A HALF !!!!!!!!! JeZuz Bouncy-Balls-Christe people!!! Can't we do ANYTHING without having to have it LEGISTLATED? Get a grip! Someone gives you a gift card, you go redeem the fucker. Live a little. This has nothing to do with consumer protection or anyone's RIGHTS. It has everything to do with turning off the fucking television and going out into the world to actually buy the thing instead of just staying at home and watching pictures of it.

MAKIN' THE DOUGH

I have three weeks left at the restaurant and, due to the fact that tourism has been in the crapper all year, I have to make a WHACK of money in the time I have left. I have set a goal of making $1,000.00 this week...

Also, I've been thinking a lot about our wedding since, for some reason, as the anniversary date approached, the universe conspired to send many bell-laden, horse-drawn wedding carriages down the street in front of the restaurant. Mostly, when I think of that day one year ago, I remember all of the people who came to celebrate with us. It's a memory I'll use, like a warm blanket, for many years.

HALLOWEEN CRAP

I was in the Dollarama today, buying cheap dish cloths, and was sickened by all the cheap Halloween crap. Whole walls and entire aisles have been devoted to plastic buckets, wall hangings, streamers, 'centre pieces', candles, candle holders, bags, and on and on and on.....AND ALL OF IT WILL GET USED ONCE AND THEN GET THROWN AWAY.

Where is the value in any of it? Where is the meaning? What is the reason to have any of it?

We have all been programed by the holiday marketing companies.
"That's it, goood little consumers. Keep buying, now throw it out, now buy some more, now throw it out.....good consumers."

GOD HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT

I'm doing a coaching promotion at the local CURVES fitness centre for women. One of the staff members told me that a woman mentioned that she was interested in coaching but didn't feel right about pursuing it because she felt that it was un-christian. UNCHRISTIAN!!!! Her reasoning? Because god has a plan for us and we should let his plan unfold for us rather than trying to live the life we want. How fucking sad is that??? Somebody sold this woman a whole wagon load of snake oil and she bought it all. What I'd really like to explain to her is that radical Muslims who think it's OK to kill her because she's an infidel think that THEIR god has a plan for them too.

WOW. NICE PEOPLE. WHO KNEW?

I haven't made an entry for quite some time, and so this seems, somehow, like a fitting entry to make. Especially since I've been so busy at the restaurant.

I know I complain a lot about the ignorance, rudeness and shear stupidity of people, and for the most part, it's like that every day. But I worked a private function tonight, a wedding rehearsal dinner, and I have to say they were delightful. They were plain folk, mind. Lamb curry scared them and most of them had never seen a chicken crepe, but they were the happiest, most thankful, most polite bunch of people. They made the evening pretty stress-free for my colleague and I. And, the mother of the groom left a super-sized tip!!!!!

I hope they have a fantastic wedding day tomorrow....

and I hope that the rest of the usual suspects that I deal with on a day to day basis continue to be plagued with car trouble and mysterious skin ailments.

NO, PLEASE EAT SOME MORE

I know that I may have mentioned the incredible book "Hungry Planet" that I've been reading. I'm still really enjoying it (and, oddly enough, tend to read it most when I'm eating). However, I just read an essay in it that started my one good foot to steppin' up on my soapbox. The woman who wrote it a professor at USC and heads the Center for Diabetes and Endocrinology at Children's Hospital Los Angeles. She states that "...60 per cent of adults - and 30 per cent of children - are overweight or obese." in the United States. No arguement from me, because I've been throwing swill down in front of them all summer.

However, she then goes on to say, "They are the victimes of a society that does not seem to care, of an economic structure that makes it cheaper to eat fries than fruit, of the food industry and the mass media luring them to consume what they shouldn't." Well.....here's where I have a BIG!!!!!!! problem. Oh dear, poor fat things don't know that one litre of soda a day (average for many people) is making them fat. BULL SHIT!! Which is better for you, an apple or a Big Mac? I refuse to believe that people don't honestly know the answer to that question. THey are not victims of some faceless, nameless society, they are victims of their own laziness and lack of responsibility. They are the same people that sued MacDonalds because the coffee was too hot. You wanted maybe a cold coffee ya dumb, greedy, lazy, fuck? Oh poor you, your diabetes is out of control. Perhaps it's because you haven't eaten anything that was alive since 1964.

I suppose it's good in a way. We don't have to worry about anybody trying to start a war on American soil. We just have to stand quietly by while they eat themselves to death.

Bored of mis-spent money

Took advantage of the $35.00 Equity special and went to see "Lord of The Rings" ("Bored of The Rings?") in Toronto yesterday. Wow. And I say that with all the irony I can load it with. Let me be plain...it's incredibly creative and eye-popping from a technological and design stand-point. Truely stunning and innovative. But less than 30minutes into the show, I already knew that I didn't care about a single, solitary character on the stage. Michael put it most succinctly, "What I'll take away is the amazing technology. I won't remember anything about the show."

And just for contrast, later in the evening, we went to see "An Intimate Evening With Cancer", a one-man show by our friends Bruce & Rebecca. So in a matter of hours we went from a 30 million dollar show to a 300 hundred dollar show, and which one do you think had the most emotional impact for us? The cheaper one, of course.

Fascinating, isn't it?

Sue Me

So I didn't complete my census form in a 'timely' fashion and now I get a letter from the census people THREATENING ME WITH FINES AND IMPRISONMENT. What fucking country is this that we're living in again. Someone please remind me.

Somewhere, waaaaaaayyyyy down on my list of things to do on any given day is an item called 'things to do for the government'. My life and all the things in it have always been and will always be more important than your numbers, programs, policies and demands.

I'LL TAKE

I made an interesting observation today. When ordering food, Americans are mostly prone to saying, "I'll take...." as in, "I'll take a salad" or "I'll take the burger." Interesting that it's not a request, as in, "May I have the burger, please" or even, "I'd like a coffee." They're not so much asking you if you would bring them something, they're telling you what it is that will be theirs.

grammar is fascinating, isn't it?

I'LL TAKE

I made an interesting observation today. When ordering food, Americans are mostly prone to saying, "I'll take...." as in, "I'll take a salad" or "I'll take the burger." Interesting that it's not a request, as in, "May I have the burger, please" or even, "I'd like a coffee." They're not so much asking you if you would bring them something, they're telling you what it is that will be theirs.

grammar is fascinating, isn't it?

ALL NUMBERS ARE AMERICAN

Ok, it's gotten to the point where I can't even be mad at the poor, simple, self-absorbed, ego-centric idiots any more. Now, I just feel sorry for them, for how small their worlds are. Time and time again, when I present the bill to a table, I am asked, "Is this in American?"

"Yes. Yes it is. I immediately sensed, when you walked in, the you were from the greatest and most prominent of all nations. Perhaps it was your carriage, maybe your style, or the quiet grace with which you conduct yourself and possibly the dignity and respect you channel when dealing with others. I sensed all of this and knew that, from that point on, all my dealings with you would simply HAVE to be in a foreign currency. Because, you see, even though you have left your country and entered another, we know where you're from and want you to feel as though nothing has changed. When I presented the bill to the French people who were at this table moments ago, I presented it in French Francs. When I presented the bill to the Japanese family, I presented it already calculated into Yen. Of course, they were surprised and grateful for this automatic conversion because they are not used to ALL numbers being converted into AMERICAN like you are. How great it must be to be you."

Um...................

So......um........ya....................day off.......................................didn't do much...............bought some fabric to make a bathrobe..................picked up my laptop ........................ya.......................drank.............................alcohol I mean.....................watched a movie with Michael.............sigh..............work tomorrow

LISTEN UP, POLLUTERS

Ok people, sit up and pay attention. It's a simple idea. You are in charge of keeping your room tidy. You are in charge of keeping your yard safe and tidy. You are in charge of keeping the planet safe and tidy. Easy, no?

So start thinking about what you buy. No, I mean. THINK!!! Is it over packaged? Then don't buy it! Do you use it once and throw it away? Then don't buy it!. Where do you think all of that stuff goes? INTO SOMEONE ELSES BACK YARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Stop pretending it doesn't matter. IT DOES MATTER. Stop using your busy life as an excuse. It doesn't matter how busy your life is, you still have a responsibility to clean up after yourself. If you don't think that's true then try this simple exercise:
Every morning, go and take a giant shit in the middle of your living room and then don't clean it up. It's amazing how you'll suddenly start to see waste, pollution and personal responsibility in a whole new light. You could also try this variation: take a giant shit in the bedroom of your children, because that's really what you're doing when you make choices without considering the long term effects they have on the planet.

Got it?

PRIDE.....or not

I spent yesterday afternoon on the rooftop of a Toronto apartment building with friends (and strangers) enjoying the celebration that is The Pride Parade. Turns out I actually know people who have an apartment on Yonge Street. Who knew? Michael and I have never been to Pride together since one of us is usually working somewhere, so this was a great opportunity to hang with fun people and get a great view from a 3rd story roof.

In spite of the fact that the parade itself is just a big party, many of us on the rooftop felt that it started off with a powerful and profound message. One of the very first groups to appear carried a banner which read, “We march for those who can’t.” All the marchers in this group had black gags around their mouths and some carried signs detailing the number of known brutalities committed (often by the government) against people who’s lifestyle was deemed unacceptable in many countries of the world. These brutalities ranged anywhere from loss of civil freedoms to public floggings or executions.

As we stood on that sunny rooftop, sharing jokes, dancing, drinking, eating and shouting our joy, someone, somewhere in the world was suffering simply because of who they are.
Isn’t it staggering that we’re still not done with that idea? The idea that if you’re not like me there’s something wrong with you.

And it's not just "those" people in "those" countries that are responsible for that kind of one-dimensional, small-minded thinking. I'll just be that there's someone very close to you right now who is thinking in exactly the same way.

What are YOU gonna do about it?

WHAT AM I UP TO?

I got an email this morning asking what I was up to, AND I was looking for a way to post some photos of our yard since my mother and I have been emailing about gardening. So....here are some happy summer pictures of just what I've been up to.

Here's Michael on the front porch at sunset in the new chairs he got for his birthday.



Back deck at sunset. Michael's basil & tomatoes on the right, wild flowers and greenery on the left.


Back deck in the morning. My favorite place to do coaching calls.


Fleurs.

I live in an area that is desperate to have visitors.....well, ok, tourists. All the marketing is about getting the tourists. Now, I don't always have particularly nice things to say about tourists when they come here, mostly because they tend to say and do really stupid things. On this occasion, however, they don't even need to come here for me to say mean things about them.

One of the things that gets marketed about this place is The War of 1812. I'd like to address all the would-be travelers who are staying home because the media warned them about possible terrorism and terrorist attacks. I think the next marketing campaign for my area should read...."Dear America....Nothing has blown up here since 1812...and at that point in history, it was YOUR bombs !!!"

Yes, I'd like to offer my personal guarantee that your chances of being injured in a terrorist attack in North America are still only slightly higher than your chances of being elected leader of your country.

In the words of Baz Luhrman..."A life lived in fear is a life half lived."

FATHER'S DAY

What does Dad want for Father’s Day? The traditional cheesy tie? Perhaps a fine bottle of scotch? Golf gear? The newspapers are full of suggestions for all kinds of things that you can buy for Dad. Now, my Dad, like many is difficult to buy for. What he wants, he buys for himself, what he doesn’t want or need, he doesn’t have. (A simple idea, really, that I wish more people would take to heart.)

So, instead of a ‘thing’, I’d just like to tell a story. I’d like to tell a story to let the whole world know what kind of a Dad I have.

I got married last September and, since we wrote our own vows, we decided that it was important to thank our parents for helping us to become the people that we’ve become. After the ‘thank-you’ portion of the vows, we presented each of our parents with a single rose as a symbol of out gratitude. There were a few tears as hugs were exchanged and as I embraced my father, he said to me, “You’re my hero.”

Depending on the dad, you might expect a few different things like a bit of wisdom or advice, maybe a gruff, monosyllabic utterance, or perhaps nothing at all. Out of all the things you might expect, “You’re my hero” is not one of them. Amazing words to hear. Words that make a pretty big impact. Words that demand, however, that I ask a couple of questions.

How can I be your hero when you taught me to build a fire, to drink a scotch, to complete a task? How can I be your hero when you laugh at all my jokes, when I get your unquestioning, unwavering support without ever asking for it? How can I be your hero when you’re my biggest fan?

Maybe we’ll just have to settle for being members of our own mutual admiration society.

I love you, Dad.

HAIR

So, we went to see "HAIR" at CanStage last night and were pretty disappointed. Well, actually Michael was really angry. First big problem, sound. It was terrible. Couldn't understand most of the lyrics half of the time and since the majority of the show is sung that means most of what you need to hear is missing. Second, the direction was so over-done that the pure simple message of the show had a hard time finding it's way through all the gak that got piled on top of it. Basically, over produced, over-directed and, because of the direction, over-acted. Lots of really talented people working waaaaay harder than they have to.

In spite of all this, the show, for me at least, still had some truly compelling moment which I think is a testament to the strength of the piece itself. Some of what it's original intent still survives IN SPITE of the director.

Can we just TELL THE STORY please??!?!?!? Shit! When will directors back off?

THERE'S NO CULTURE IN POP-CULTURE

I'm sure Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are very happy. HOWEVER, I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that the 'media' (and I use the term loosely and sarcastically) stop plastering every magazine cover on the planet with their pictures. And the magazines that do not feature either Brad or Angie, or both, are the ones that feature Jennifer Anniston because everyone wants to know how SHE feels about things !!!

Jezuz people, get a life of your own.

There must be something, some little thing in your life that is more interesting than rich people talking about themselves. Do you even know how many behind the scenes agents, publicists and press agents are working day and night to position people on those magazine covers? Do you think the magazines just phone up and say, "Hey, we'd like you on the cover." HELL NO. They have to be badgered into it by an army of staff paid for by the feature-ees themselves.

What is this modern disease of having to talk an event to death? We talk and talk and talk and talk and talk about a thing, and then we talk about the opinions that came out of the talking and start all over again. And NOTHING EVER COMES OF IT.....it's just talk.

This is what they call Pop-culture. Which is exactly the same thing as calling that orange paste in a jar "cheese".

LEARN TO TIP OR DIE

OK, listen up 'cause I'm only gonna say this once. Well, that's not actually true. I'm going to say it again and again and again and again until all the ill-bred, ill-mannered ingrates out there grab a little sense.

IF YOU CAN AFFORD TO EAT OUT YOU CAN AFFORD TO LEAVE A DECENT TIP!!!!

And can I just make the point here that I am looking in the direction of British people, and seniors right now. It's time somebody stood up and spoke the truth. Are you from England, Scotland, Wales????? Did you know that when you go into a restaurant the staff will do everything to NOT serve you as soon as they hear your accent? Why is this? Because 98 times out of 100 YOU WILL BE A LOUSY TIPPER!

Now, let's get one thing straight. I still believe that a tip as a gift for exemplary service. That is why I WORK MY ASS OFF with every table to be charming, efficient, informative,....what ever it takes. Also, the more special things you ask for, the more 'unique' demands you make, the higher your tip should be !!!!

And I don't want to hear any crap about not knowing or not understanding how it works over here! For starters, if you're a tourist, ASK SOMEONE!! Or read a bloody tourist book. If you live here, maybe it's time you stopped watching fucking East Enders and realized that 10% IS NOT the norm for a tip anymore.

And as for you seniors.....I understand that you are on a fixed income. I understand that tea and a sandwich is a HUGE lunch for you. BUT A SHINEY, NEW QUARTER DOESN'T BUY FUCK-ALL ANYMORE SO DON'T BOTHER LEAVING IT !!! It's not 1942 anymore and the war is over so you can stop saving your bacon fat.

Like I said before, if you can afford to eat out, you can afford to leave a proper tip. Think! Think about it. Think about what you're saying with your tip. Does your tip say, "Thank you for working hard to make my time here enjoyable", or does it say, "I understand that the person who brings me my food is a part of my dining experience and I know that they went that extra mile for me" or perhaps, "I wouldn't know the meaning of 'value' if it performed oral sex on me."

I could list any number of reasons for writing this post, but it was set off by a particular occurrence. I had a table of 8 tonight, Scottish I think but hard to say....could have been a mixed group. They were in a hurry. Fine. I got 8 people, including the one who arrived 15 minutes AFTER everyone else, fed and watered and out of the restaurant in around 35 minutes. The bill?........$110.00. The tip?......about 7%. Thank you. I hope you missed your bus, twisted your ankle rushing for it and lost your passport on the way. Welcome to Canada. Bite me.

THE BEST MOTHER'S DAY GIFT

I'm gonna offer a piece of advice here. Advice? Me? How unusual.
If you want to do something really, really nice for your mother on Mother's Day, may I suggest the following script:

"Mom, I love you and care about you enough that I would prefer not to take you out for brunch/lunch/dinner on Mother's Day. I love you enough not to expose you to the nere-do-well's, slackers and pond scum that inhabit the restaurants of the world on this one day of the year. I respect you enough to keep you away from the squabbling families that have dragged some poor old woman out of the "home" and sit at the table arguing about who has to take her to the bathroom, as though she were not present to hear them. I honor you enough to take you out for a meal once a month, every month, for the rest of the year, rather than put either of us through the hell of the common Mother's Day crowd."

Call me naive, but I didn't want to believe one of the other servers at the restaurant when she said the Mother's Day is the worst day of the year, but she was right. It is, quite possibly, the worst day of the year to be a server. Most of the people you will serve probably don't EVER go to restaurants, except on Mother's Day (at least not restaurants with cloth napkins). And on the day that they are forced by their own guilt to take the matriarch out, because Hallmark has sold them the idea hook, line & sinker, they are so crabby about it that no one is going to have a good time....least of all the guest of honor.....WHO USUALLY ENDS UP PAYING.'

I tell you, if I took my mother out for Mother's Day brunch, and expected her to pay, I'd never hear the end of it. But, apparently, there are plenty of mothers out there that are so desperate to spend time with their darling ones that they are willing to put up with the disrespect and abuse just to suffer through two hours of haggling over the price of a beer. My advice to them........cut the deadweight and ask for a gift certificate next year. Go out with some girl friends and get drunk.

MOVING FORWARD...REGARDLESS

I am constantly surprised by the number of people that applaud my decision to take the summer off from show business. In a way, I totally understand the people who are IN the business thinking that I am perhaps either very brave or very foolish, but commending me either way. It's the people who have no idea what it's like to be self-employed, let alone a self-employed-actor, that surprise me. Even they go on and on about what a great thing it is that I'm doing, how healthy and sensible.

What is ridiculous, of course, is the fact that I had to talk myself into it in the first place. And even sillier is the fact that I have lived from job to job, always on the hunt for the next one, for years (something that strikes terror into the hearts of any red-blooded-nine-to-fiver) but was TERRIFIED of turning down theatre contracts to take a day job. How stunned is that?

I am happy to say, however, that it all feels like it's working out like it's supposed to. The day job is making me enough money to pay my bills and launch the coaching business. And, as of very recently, I have accepted two theatre offers that are very timely. The restaurant will proably lay me off at the end of September so I accepted an offer to play Cogsworth again in "Beauty & The Beast" which would start near the end of October. I also intend to accept the offer for a play called "Bach at Leipzig", (a fantastical farce about organists competing for a Kappelmeister position) which will fall into the Jan/Feb slot.

What is it about learning to let go and not micro-manage every second of one's life that we have to learn over and over again. I tell my clients all the time, and yet here I am, re-learning it myself. *sigh* Then again, what is that saying.......something like...a fool knows what he knows but a blind man can't open his mouth and prove that the possibilities are endless? You know what I mean.

WORK WORK WORK

Ok, I admit it, I constantly over estimate how many hours there are in a day and how many of them I will actually be able to use. I also over estimate how tired I am/will be when I get home from the restaurant. At least you can't ever accuse me of not being optimistic. Even when faced with no time or energy, I STILL operate under the delusion that I'm going to be getting some things done.

The past few weeks have been a blur of working at the restaurant, often on double shifts from noon to 10 or 11 pm, and working at the computer. At the computer I will either be working on my coaching website, www.yourlifeyourway.org, working on being a better coach with my Coachstart Manual, OR doing research or exercises for myself, OR doing research to create projects/exercises for my clients, OR writing articles for my newly launched eZine, MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE (is this tiring yet?), OR creating advertising/marketing schemes......blah, blah, blah. It's actually got to the point where I looked around the house the other day and thought, "This place is a pig style!" I've been so absorbed that my usual routine of cleaning and tidying on a regular basis has all but disappeared.

Part of the plan, when I decided to stay home this summer, was to 'have a life'. Surprisingly, in spite of the fact that I spend so much time either tossing fish & chips at tourists or staring at the computer screen, I've also done a fair amount of entertaining. And I've been entertained. And even had a very relaxed and lovely social afternoon (with the long-lost and fabulously funny Rebecca Northan (www.northan.com) in Toronto after an audition one day. I think, however, that my ideal model might be a bit closer to the 'work hard, play hard' school of thought. So far, I've definitely been working harder than I've been playing......but the summer is young.

IDLE HANDS....DEVIL'S WORK?

I guess it's true what they say....I really have been too busy to do my demonic work (you know, hedonism, debauchery, lusting after young men). Between my fluctuating hours at the restaurant, studying my coaching program, streamlining and updating my coaching website (www.yourlifeyourway.org), actually coaching my clients (yes, I do have some) and trying to have a life that includes going to the gym, seeing other humans now and then and perhaps a little relaxation time....well, you get the picture. I admit that it feels odd not to have anything to rant about. I miss it. It's like not being able to pick that scab that took so looong to heal.

I needn't worry though. As I'm working with the general public, it won't be long before one of the poor, stupid things sets me off.

I'm going to rollerblade to work today. Since I am still carrying my winter-ass around with me, it may take longer than it should, so I should start preparing now.

The Day that NOTHING happened

OK, I don't know how many people log onto the Sympatico/MSN webpage in a day, but I think we need to talk about what qualifies as NEWS !!!! Now, I don't think news should be a part of anyone's daily life to begin with, certainly not the news as we know it today. However, when two of the top 5 stories on MSN are Nick Lachey (who?) being grumpy because he didn't make the cover of Rolling Stone, and somebody suing J Lo over some television thing, clearly the entire world must have come to a stand still. OBVIOUSLY, NOTHING that actually matters happened in the world today, because surely, if there had been anything of even moderate importance, it would have taken precedence over Nick & Jenny. No? Am I wrong? Does anyone else see this as a problem?

THE pope NEEDS A LIFE

I just read an article explaining that the pope has decreed that a 'lack of love' is responsible for the decline in births around the world. He says that this 'eclipse of love' is caused by the turbulent era we are living in and that this keeps couples from choosing marriage...Because EVERYONE knows that ONLY married couples who are in LOVE have children, right? And regardless of how poor you or your country may be, a child is an expression of that love, right?
Maybe Mr. Pope-ala needs to get a job at a 7-11 and try putting two kids through elementary school !! (We don't want to terrify him with university right off the bat). Or maybe his Holyselflessness should live in a corrugated tin shack...in a country that is trying to cope with civil war....with a family that has 8 kids to feed.
Or how about this........
Maybe his starched, laundered, bleached, pressed, refreshed and ironed, pampered ass should get out of his little fucking kingdom, or take a walk away from his little glass motorcar, out into the real world. The world where people live and die, fight and fuck, sing and swear, struggle and succeed or fail. The REAL world where everyone is busy trying to decide what works and what doesn't. The REAL world where there are many, many people who are spending a ridiculous amount of time trying to develop a personal relationship with 'god' and don't need some stuffy old poop interfering.
I mean, you'd think that with all the money the Catholic church has, they could afford to send his largeness to a resort once a year where he could at least have a rum & coke and see the beach from the same vantage point as the rest of us. What are they worried about, paparazzi? Are you telling me that YOU could recognize him without his big hat and dress?

Cold = Cheap ?

Ah yes, my days of working in hotels and restaurants are flooding back to me. To be honest, I know that people, generally speaking, are stupid. Tourists, generally speaking, are stupidest of all and usually inconsiderate to boot. Working in a restaurant is simply a daily reminder of these facts. Perhaps it was so noticeable simply because it was so incredibly slow today. When the place is at it's usual frantic buzz, there's no time to really notice the idiocy around you.

When I arrived at noon today, the two staff that had opened at 11 were already bored. With the cold weather, no one was on the streets, so that means no one was coming in for lunch. We stood, staring at the door, taking each prospective customer in turns, out of fairness. Problem with cold days? Too many people looking for 'just a cup of tea'. Great. Tea. The most labour intensive beverage in the business. When a table asks for two teas, you end up carrying out more crap than you do for a table of four having a full meal. And what do you get for it? The satisfaction of a job well done and, if you're lucky, a shiny quarter.

Among my motley collection of tables today I had:
A group of four American teen girls. I knew I was in trouble when they asked to share fish and chips but wondered if they could get fries instead of chips!!!

A group of four elderly Brits. They all had a main course and coffees to follow. Total bill, $60.00. Total tip, .20 cents. Now if I had been a total prick to these people, I could understand the tip, but since the place was dead slow, they got top-notch service. So why even bother leaving the .20 cents. Do you think I'm desperate for change for my parking meter? Or were you hoping I'd throw it at your cheap ass so that you could sue the restaurant? It's interesting that no one wanted to appear cheap enough to pocket the .20 cents, but everyone was perfectly fine to appear cheap enough to leave it as the tip.

Then there was the Japanese couple that only wanted 2 coffees. They spoke no English at all, but had a little tourist book to help them work through the basics. I saw them working out the money, which they managed just fine, but apparently a 3% tip is the norm in Japan. Again, why bother leaving anything at all.

Dominican Republic - final chapter

I'll let these photos be my entry for the last two days of our trip since we didn't really do much other than swim, snooze, drink, eat and lie in the sun. *sigh*

The view from our beach chairs.

 

Rep. Dom. - Day 5

It has rained heavily through the night. We wake early because the bus for our excursion it to pick us up at 7:50 a.m. Today we are going to a place called Altos de Chavon, a replica Tuscan village, built into a hillside by a rich industrialist as a birthday present for his daughter. Then we'll be touring some caves to see 5,000 year old pictoglyphs left by the Taino, the original people of this island.
We make it to the lobby by 7:45, still bleary eyed. We wait. And we wait. We begin to wonder if we missed the bus. Then we remember 'island time'. Even for island time though, the bus is late. We finally as one of the other tour operators if he knows anything. He tells us that the excursion is cancelled because if the rain which makes the caves unsafe. While we are mildly disappointed by this, we immediately decide to sit and drink coffee for a few hours and read while we decide what time we should go to the beach. Though the early part of the day is cloudy, it ends up being a glorious day for the beach, which is where we spend most of the day.

Republica Dominicana - Day 4

Last night, during our dinner in the "Japanese" restaurant (they did try, and the decor was nice) it rained like one expects is should in the tropics. Walls of water crashing down from the sky in opaque sheets. Legions of maids and groundsmen manning battle stations to mop floors, and clear standing water into drains. Because there are no real walls anywhere, all the tile floors become skating rinks.
We wake to a dark grey sky that seems to be trying to punch a hole in it's own cloud cover and let the sun through, but cannot. Though it is cloudy, it is still quite warm and very humid.
We spend the morning sitting in El Capitan bar, sipping cappucino and reading.
At 1:30 we are picked up for our excursion to the Marinarium where we will be snorkeling with nurse sharks and sting rays.
When we arrive at the launch point, our crew leader gives his opening speech and rules in English, Spanish, French & German. He has a devilish sparkle in his eye and a wickedly dry sense of humor.
We snorkel the reef for 30 minutes or so, our guide swimming ahead of us slightly, releasing bread down near the bottom to attract fish. We are caressed by needle fish as they swim past our masks, curious about our presence. We are surrounded by schools of jackfish, tetras in huge clouds, sergeant majors and all manner of wildly coloured fish. We see huge brain corrals, fan coral and finger coral of all size and colour. There are sea urchins, tiny to gigantic, red, black and lavender. There are also anemonies of all colours hidden in every reef pocket.
We are led to the fenced off area where the sharks and rays live. True, it is a cage, but it is a large natural habitat in the actual ocean, not a cement pool in Kentucky. I am in awe as a ray with a wing span of 12 or 15 feet swims past me. As I am paddling along, a large, very large shadow begins to swim below me. It is a nurse shark, docile, but powerful and still un-nerving.
After snorkeling we are taken to a beautiful little cove to hang out and party in the water. There is a floating bar....... a guy with a tray of drinks on a life preserver making the rounds.Though it is still grey and rainy, and we are wet and cold, we are happy and still stunned at the natural beauty of the place.
After dinner, we are asleep by 10.

Republica Dominican - tercer dia

It has rained heavily through the night.
It is still raining when I thow open our balcony, a wall of windows in our 3rd floor room which, when fully open, makes the entire wall virtually disappear.
The clouds look as though they may stay around, but we could care less.
We drink bad coffee and amazing smoothies.
We wander over to the little bar we have discoverd where they make the good coffee and indulge in cafe au lait.
At9:30 or 10 we decide to head for the beach.
The wind is high and there is much cloud off and on, but the day is warm.
We spend the day reading, snoozing, drinking, swimming and watching eye candy.
We are thrilled that this is not primarily an American resort. It´s so nice to rarely hear English. Mostly, we hear Spanish, French, German and Italian.
Tomorrow we are going snorkeling with nurse sharks and sting rays.
Just before we leave the beach, I am returning to my beach chair and a French woman asks me how the water is.
I reply, ¨Perfection¨¨
She says, ¨Does perfection exist in this world¨
I say, "It´s a state of mind"....I am unemployed, in love, on my honeymoon (for lack of a better word), in one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen and meeting some of the most charming people the world has to offer.....perfection?

Republica Dominican - segundo dia

We wake early again and drink the world´s worst coffee.
To make up for the coffee, however, there is a smoothie bar at the breakfast buffet, where you can have your choice of 4 different drinks, all made with fresh tropical fruits, some of which are unrecognizable, all of which send your mouth into a happy dance.
After breakfast, we lounge beside one of the many pools, deciding which excursions might interest us.
Once we decide, Michael goes to make the bookings, flirting with our tour rep. the whole time.
We are picked up at 1:30 for the horse back riding that we booked on a whim in the morning.
We drive far out into the country side, away from all the big resorts, past real farms populated with cows, horses, burros and real people living their lives.
We are introduced to our caballeros. By a fluke, it will be just Michael and I and our two guides on this trip.
In the high heat of a Dominican afternoon, we saunter past farm houses (which are really just 2 room shacks since everyone lives outside most of the time), we wind through the country side, down narrow trails that take us through many bananna and papaya plantations.
Eventually, we come to Macao Beach, one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen. A looong curving expanse of white sand. Framed on one side by spectacular sand cliffs, and on the other by a sand point covered with marching coconut palms that dissapear into the horizon, a perfect artist´s study in perspective.
We leave the horses and thow ourselves in the water which is, somehow, even clearer than before and possibly even warmer.
We are surrounded by Dominican families. We do not hear a word of English. The sun is relentless.
Neither of us can stop sighing.....almost weeping at the sheer, unspeakable beauty of it all.
There is nothing more to say about this day. Anything else that we did after returning to the hotel pales in comparison to Macao beach.

Republica Dominican - First full day

We wake at 7 a.m. because of the back-up beeper on the grader working not far from our room. I am hung over but don´t care.
One of the several buffet options where we can eat (all inclusive) is right in front of the block of rooms we are in. We stumble in, looking for coffee. It is some of the worst coffee I have ever tasted in my life. And they even grow it here.
The food is exactly what you expect from a buffet, some ok, some actually good, mostly it all just tastes bland....kind of like eating every meal at Stage West.
We park by the pool, waiting to talk to our tour rep. and ask questions because we had NO intention of attending the 9 a.m. orientation meeting.
We meet our rep., Martin, a very cute little French Canadian boy. We get the info we need. By this time it is near lunch. We have had several drinks. We decide to eat and head to the beach.
The water in D.R. is the colour of emeralds. It is so crystal clear that it looks fake. It seems unreasonable that when you are in 6 or 7 feet of water that you can still see the bottom perfectly.
The rest of the day passes in a blur.

AND I'M LEAVING THE COUNTRY TOO !

I find it quite funny, and strangely synchronistic, that my decision regarding my job and our final decision on a vacation (togetherness break) destination almost coincided. In both cases, there is a noticable difference in the weight carried on my well-sculpted shoulders.

Alas, we had to give up on our plans for Venice. Because we're working with the money that people gave us for our wedding, our budget is set in stone, and we simply do not have enough to make Venice worth it. We could probably get there, and stay there, but we'd have nothing left to "DO" anything with, and where's the fun in that? And believe me, we tried every possible angle. At one point, we were even considering (thanks to Traudie's suggestion) flying to Frankfurt, renting a car and making the 12 hour drive to Venice through the mountains.

So, true to our word, we called the Flight Centre ans asked them to send us anywhere we could afford. They seemed a little freaked out by our total lack of requests or issues. We told them that we really didn't care what country it was or where we'd be staying as long as it fit our dates and budget. We'll be leaving April 8 for a week in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic.

I QUIT !

Well, I've done it. I've committed the unthinkable. The original, theatrical, self-employed sin. I've turned down work. Yes indeed. And not one, not two, but three, yes THREE contracts that would have employed me from mid-June to labor Day, and for the month of October. At a time when virtually no one is working in Canadian theatre, I turned up my perfect, aristocratic little nose at three gigs. Has it finally happened? Have I finally lost my booze-soaked-ego-drenched little mind? One might think so. But hear my logic before you pass sentence.

I've been fighting a certain amount of disillusionment about the business lately. I'm tired of trying to do my best for paying customers that treat me as though I were just expensive television; tired of producers who only know how to be cheap as opposed to actually knowing how to manage a budget; tired of Artistic Directors who know very little about art and even less about directing. So I sat myself down and had a talk with myself...actually several talks....over many weeks. I realized that part of this disillusionment has a lot to do with being really, REALLY tired of fretting over money and not having or doing the things I want. For a lark, I sat down one day and did the math to figure out just how much money I make when I work out of town. The results horrified me. I discovered that after the various mandatory deductions, paying my agent, paying for my out of town accommodation, putting money away for taxes and paying for gas to go home once a week, I was actually only making between five or six hundred dollars per week, depending on the contract. How many people do you know that have been doing the same job for 22 years, are making less than $600 a week? And remember, that 600 still has to pay all the bills at home. And God forbid you should afford to go out for a drink once or twice a week, or maybe even put a little money away for when you don't have work.....like, say, in a month! Or what about, say, a trip?? Which brings up another point...... I'm a financial genius to be able to live the lifestyle I do on the money I make !!!!!!!!

So I thought to myself, "That's shit! And I am simply not willing to accept it any longer !!!!"

[As a side note, it occurs to me at this point that the title of my blog seems somewhat prophetic.]

Now, it's one thing to wave your moral outrage around, and another thing entirely to actually decide how you're going to proceed. It became clear very quickly that, if I were going to take a step back from the business for a bit, take a break from my job until it starts liking me again, I was going to need some source of income. Thankfully, I happen to live in a region that has perfected the art of separating tourists from their money and, having worked at The Chamber of Commerce, I am more than just a little connected to the local business community.

Long story short, I pumped some connections, made some inquires, turned on my special brand of charm and will now be spending the summer waiting tables at one of Niagara's busiest restaurants. Now, I don't want Revenue Canada coming down on anyone who has worked there before, so I won't mention the name of the place, nor will I mention exact dollar amounts. However.....THIS is the kind of money daddy needs to be makin' !!!!

Not only that, but I will get to sleep in my own bed for more than 3 weeks at a time. It will be worth it to actually plant something in the garden because I'll actually be around to see it grow. I can spend time in my fabulous new darkroom, cook, have dinner parties, B-B-Q's, see my friends in Toronto now and then. All this while making a shit-load of money.

Crazy? .....like a fox.

I AM MY OWN GRANNY, GOING TO VENICE

I have several girl friends who are actually just gay men trapped in women's bodies. You may have a friend or two like that yourself. I have a feeling that I'm almost the opposite, except that I'm actually my own Lithuanian grandmother trapped in a gay man's body. The reason I think this is that I just cleaned the house, and I mean CLEANED the house. I didn't clean it so much as I waged war on the dust and accumulating cat hair. I mean I vacuumed the baseboards, the door sills AND the picture frames for Christsakes ! And here's the really scary part....I enjoyed every minute of it. In fact, I LOVED it, and am now sitting here with a smug smirk on my face, indulging in the satisfaction that every surface sparkles. I'm considering therapy.

On an entirely different bent...
It looks like we are actually going to be able to take our "togetherness break" (thank you Mom for finding a suitable replacement for 'honeymoon') in April. We have a week off at the same time !!! Well, I have several weeks off. A whole bunch of them really. I'm not starting in Grand Bend until the middle of June. So, we're really, really trying to go to Venice with the trip money that people gave us for our wedding. It's one more of the great conundrums of my life that I can be unemployed, penniless, bills piling up to the ceiling....and I'm planning a trip to Venice. Ain't life strange and wonderful.

PORN IS GOOD, PEOPLE ARE BAD

I suppose that's much like saying "Guns don't kill people, people kill people", though I still have some trouble with that one. Who made the guns?? But that's not my mini-rant today, it starts with porn. Now let's be frank (or earnest), I like my porn. I'm happy that it's available to me and I'm not shy about talking about it or embarrased to have it seen in our home. I sometimes check my favorite porn websites for updates on a daily basis, just like I might read the newspaper in the morning (which I don't). Porn can be, and IS, a healthy part of a healthy adult's sexual life.

However, you get a bunch of guys arrested in a major kiddie-porn ring and suddenly ANYONE who even speaks the word porn is seen as a trench-coat-wearing-degenerate assumed to be luring children into the car. Pleeeeease don't get me wrong. The kiddie-porn is sick and sad and I'm outraged that everyone is celebrating a 3 year sentance for the distributor. BUT...NOT ALL PORN IS BAD!!! SEX, BETWEEN CONSENTING ADULTS, IS NOT BAD. And if those consenting adults should choose to video tape their sex and post it on the internet for the world to see, that's ok too. Ya don't hafta watch it if ya don't want ta!

There is a disturbing trend toward wild over-reacting in modern society, and the blame lays firmly at the feet of the media. Instead of sound, balanced stories about same-sex marriage, the flames are fanned and suddenly it's all about polygamy and marrying your animals. Instead of constant, common sense education about alcohol it's place in our lives, suddenly a glass of wine with dinner every night makes you a hopeless alcoholic.

You know, this is one of those topics that I could go on about for hours, but really, what's the use. As Kathi says, "We all end up paying for what a few bad people do." So, instead of preaching, pontificating, moralizing or any other kind of ing, I'm just gonna go relax. Yup, polish off a bottle of gin while my many spouses and I take turns buggering the under-age goat.

AM I BLUE? YOU'D BE TOO...

Yes, I'm singin' the unemployment blues. Not a song I like to sing, but I'm certainly familiar with the tune, at least I've become familiar with it over the past few years. It occurred to me, only today, that this is something that I've never really had to deal with. Through the 20 years that I've been doing this, I've never, really, been unemployed, or not for long enough that it mattered. If I didn't have a job, there was always one close enough on the horizon that I could actually say I was "between engagements". And there have certainly been times when there was a longer space between gigs and money was tight, but it was there. But usually, there has always been some income, some day job, some contract, some form of income, however tiny.

Recently, the span of time between jobs has been longer and whatever those little money-makers that used to keep me afloat may have been seem to have dried up.

THIS is why I've been so grumpy about this particular stretch of 'at home time' as I've decided to call it.

But, what does any good driven, self-motivated, been-around-the-block self-employed person do in times like these?
A) Continue to live normally, which is already on a lower budget than the rest of the world.
B) Formulate a plan.

FARTING IS FUNNY

Robert, who plays Pish-Tush, has a fart machine. This is no dime store whoopee cushion, but a very realistic sounding collection of farts, 7 or 8 in all, that comes with a remote so that you don't even have to be in the room to release a fart from the carefully placed speaker. He's had this thing since early on in rehearsals and it has NEVER stopped being funny. You'd think that once you knew it was machine you'd stop laughing, but no. Every night in the dressing room, we all turn in to a bunch of giggling 10 year olds.

The only person who didn't know it was a fart machine was the on-stage sound tech., a sweet but too innocent kid who's doing this gig for high-school credit. He was simply convinced that Robert had one of the worst cases of gastrointestinal distress ever known to man. Which, of course, we all found HILARIOUS !

It just proves the point that everything you need to know, you really did learn in kindergarten:

-Cookies & milk and a nap makes you feel better
-Anything is more fun naked
-Farting is funny.

Go ahead, .... you know you want to.

THE CHI INSPECTORS ARRIVE

We've been asked to take care of some friend's cats while their house is on the market. The cats arrived yesterday afternoon and by late evening they were pretty much running the house. Maggie (left) is the more shy, delicate of the pair and she takes her lead from Lewis (right) most of the time. Lewis is one of the most eccentric cats I've ever seen. He stomps! And I mean loudly! You can hear him coming from anywhere in the house. And he is the nosiest cat EVER. Doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing, he will need to supervise it. A few minutes ago he got up from a sound sleep on the sofa just to come into the office because he heard the printer. Once he'd jumped up on the desk and checked it out, he was happy to return to the sofa.

While we appreciate the fact that they're going to move around the chi in the house for a few weeks, we're going to have to talk about the sleeping arrangements. We both woke up pinned to the bed this morning as both cats had decided that there was room for all 4 of us.

MIKADO & DIAL M PHOTOS

The usual suspects...The "Dial M..." cast: Doug Hughes, James Kall, Deborah Drakeford & Edward Belanger.

The set for "Dial M..."


Keith as Ko-Ko, The Lord High Executioner in "The Mikado". We think he looks alot like Edith Head.

Me as Pooh-Bah. He actually says, 'I was born sneering'. Fitting, don't you think?

Costume shot.

TO BE HOME

It occurs to me that many, many people don't experience the longing to sleep in their own bed, or the intense joy of being once again being surrounded by their own 4 walls as often as I do.

It was only during my drive home after the matinee yesterday that I started to realize how exhausting these past 3 weeks have been, and my body decided it was going to collapse whether I was ready or not. Michael, true to his word, had martinis and home made pea soup waiting. My exhaustion exhibited itself in several ways. I had option paralysis and couldn't decide if I wanted to eat, drink, unpack, take a hot bath, sleep, watch a movie or all or none of those things. I became very emotional, on the verge of tears, mostly from joy of being home. And I couldn't get warm. I started to shiver at one point and decided to take a hot bath to warm up. Then we watched a movie on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, with Michael feeding me soup and martinis. In spite of going through sweat and cold cycles, I actually slept well and feel great today. So great, in fact, that I didn't even mind driving to Burlington to begin my active dental therapy (deep cleaning below the gum line !!!)

I am so grateful to Dr. Dave for his generosity because there is now way I could afford the kind of intensive therapy my poor, diseased gums need right now. Thanks to him, I'll be able to keep my teeth for a few more years. And it was all pretty easy really, even though my mouth is still frozen to the point where I managed to chew open my bottom lip without noticing. None of that is stopping me from drinking my martini however.

Look around your house and love where you are.

AD LIBBING FREELY...PRICELESS

One can certainly tell that we're all feeling a little more relaxed about the show because the shenanigans have begun. Keith was feeling particularly impish last night and doing his best to crack up the chorus boys. I thought it was time he had a taste of his own medicine, knowing full well that he looooves playing ball with someone who is as shame-free as he is.

In the second act of 'The Mikado', he is part of a trio called "Here's a How-Dee-Doo". They do the song 4 times, each time getting faster and each time with Keith doing something goofier and schtickier. At one point, he rides a tricycle across the stage tooting the horn incessantly. Shortly after that, I have a scene with him where he tries to bribe me to commit perjury on his behalf, saying, "You'll be grossly insulted as usual". To which I am supposed to reply, "Will the insult be cash down or at a date." In an effort to keep the script slightly updated and understandable, I have been given license to say something like, "Will the insult be cash up-front or American Express?" The other night I replied, "Will the insult be cash down or MasterCard", then, turning to the audience, "Ad libbing freely and getting away with it, priceless."

However, my coup de grace last night was this reply, "Will the insult be cash up front, or will I have to chase you on a tricycle like a cheap comedian?" For a moment, Keith's eyebrows started to crawl over his head, then he turned to the audience with a 'can you believe him' face, and I followed suit with my own 'can you believe me' face. He then gave me a faux slap across the face and we carried on with the scene.

Offstage, he congratulated me on not only crossing the line, but obliterating it completely.

Oh, and in an earlier scene, he lost his mind completely and called my by HIS character name..... TWICE !!!!

I THINK I'M TURNING JAPANESE

"The Mikado" is finally up and running. Well, I shouldn't say finally because it only had two weeks of rehearsal....not nearly enough. I have never felt so under-rehearsed or unprepared to put a show on stage in my life. And I wasn't alone. For the first three public performances, if you should happen to have the presence of mind to look into a fellow actor's eyes, all you would have seen was sheer terror. All of us felt as though we'd been shot out of a cannon with no net to catch us. As of last night though, we actually started to have some fun. It was great to look into Keith's eyes during one of our scenes and see that old devilish sparkle back.

Two shows today and then a matinee tomorrow and then....I can go home and sleep in my own bed for the first time in 3 weeks !!!!! Yay !!!!!

WHAT DO YOU VALUE - A SEMI-RANT

In a recent email, I had mentioned to my mother that I was about to enter into a fairly long span of time (3 months) when I would be 'unencumbered by employment'. She said that it must be demoralizing to have to get a waitering job. I thought about it for awhile and came to the conclusion that being a waiter is not a problem at all, in fact it can be a nice change of pace, and fun depending on where you're doing it. No, the problem I have is that in any other job, once you had been doing it for 20 years, and you were actually pretty good at it, you wouldn't have to consider supplementing your income by waitering.

Have you ever stopped to think about the enormous commitment any artist has to have in order to keep being an artist? Have you ever heard of a doctor, teacher, engineer or chef supplementing their income with another job so that they can continue with their chosen career?

Part of the problem is that we are not taught to value any art form as a past-time, a leisure activity, so that means less attendance, less money, fewer jobs, lower pay. Also, especially when it comes to theatre, we are not taught to value talent. There was a day when people would crawl a mile over broken glass to see a great actor because they were a GREAT actor. Now, we value only success and, thanks to Hollywood, you don't really need any talent at all to be a success. In fact, I've noticed a similar trend in theatre as well. All too often I've watched a show thinking, "Who the hell did that talent-free hack fellate to get this job?"

What's the answer? I don't know that there is one. Change will happen. It makes me sad, however, that most people's ideas and opinions about art, the arts and a life in or with art are based on what they've seen on t.v.