DIRTY ROTTEN FIRST DAY BACK

Michael and I spend the night in Toronto for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being that it is actually cheaper for us to get a hotel and airport direct transport than it is to get both of us to the airport from Niagara at crack-of-my-ass-o'clock in the morning.

The airport, at 5:30 a.m. is a 3 ring circus. Although our flights (Michael is on a different one that me) are through United Airlines, the plane is an Air Canada flight....bottom line is we get the run-around from both companies because no one knows where we should check in. (This lack of communication and direction eventually causes two of the cast members to miss their flight completely and end up spending the night in Las Vegas).

Michael heads off to his gate. I do the same (after much negotiation with airline personnel). The cast starts to dribble in. Because we are going to a very small airport in Fresno, we are all split onto 5 or 6 different flights, leaving at different times during the day and connecting through different cities. The rest of the cast on my flight begins to arrive. We find out that we are delayed by 60 minutes....it is only 8:30 a.m. and I have been up for 4 hours.

We finally leave Toronto on what is, apparently, the "Family Day" flight. Anyone who thinks that we're in a recession should take a flight somewhere. How short of money can you be if you can travel with your 3 or 4 children in tow. There are at least 10 families, all of them large, on the plane. Few of us are able to sleep.

Our connection is through Las Vegas. As we are an hour behind schedule, we have to hustle to get to the other terminal at Vegas airport, only to find that our departure from that gate is also delayed. When our plane does arrive, I am forced to point and laugh. It is a twin prop. tuna can with wings, holding perhaps 20 people. Our Stage Manager pales.

Regardless of how you feel about flying in small planes, (Heather kept clutching me arm every time we banked) there is no better way to view the beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountains. We are stunned at the spectacular views.

We arrive at Fresno and are forced to endure another delay, this one spent filling our forms because none of our luggage made it on to the plane and is still in Las Vegas. By the time we arrive at the hotel, I have been awake and travelling for 12 hours and proceed directly to the lobby lounge without even going to my room. Of course, there's no need to go to the room when one has no luggage. We hear several rumours about possible arrival times for our bags, none of them true. They finally arrive around 10 a.m. the next morning. The hotel doesn't bother to call anyone to let them know, they just stow the bags with the bellman and wait for us to call, one by one.

We hear that Heather has put her neck out at some point during the night and won't be doing the show, so we are in understudy mode. Fortunately, there is a 4 hour rehearsal call that was already scheduled simply because we've had 3 weeks off.

I guess you could say we're back on the road.....with a vengeance.

The adventure continues.

Dirty Rotten Naples Plus

I hadn't planned on making another entry for this leg of the tour, but this is too good to pass up.

There is a lot of money here and that is reflected in the shops we pass on the way to the theatre. It seems that all anybody ever does is redecorate their homes since there's a furniture or home accessories store every 200 yards. There is also a very high end shopping mall anchored by a large Saks Fifth Avenue. So imagine our delight as we pass a store that boldly stands out by proclaiming it's name in huge letters.....
"NOT JUST FUTONS AND BARSTOOLS". Not kidding. Not even a little bit.

DIRTY ROTTEN NAPLES

Or as I've taken to calling it, Nipples, Florida.....sunshine state my ass!!! Well, ok the sun IS shining but it's not really short pants weather. When one drives through miles and miles of orange groves and palm trees, one expects warm ocean breezes.

As soon as we arrive at the hotel, I dump my stuff and head toward the beach. I'm told it's about a 20 minute walk which is fine with me after sitting on a bus for days. I pass many, many large and expensive homes and condo units. Luxury cars and boats parked in the shade of waving palms. I eventually reach a public access point that allows me past the condo units to the beach which, I discover to my delight, is deserted. It's very, very windy and the surf is pounding in. I can feel the salt spray on my face and I park my ass on the soft white sand to enjoy the salt facial. After sitting for about 20 minutes and enjoying the solitude, I realize that I can barely see out of my glasses any more because they're covered with salt.

Our show is a quiet one, though I do have a Mr. Bean moment which causes me to crack myself up. In my scene with K.K., I lean back on the hotel desk and accidentally hit the little bell, which surprises me and causes me to reach around to silence it, which causes me to knock the phone off of it's cradle, which causes me to look like an inept juggler for the next few minutes as I try to put everything right. I am also trying to suppress the giggles. Throughout all of this, K.K. watches me with an expression that says, "I'm not at all sure what you're doing. Are you going to say your line any time soon?".

Today is our last day for this leg of the tour. We do an understudy rehearsal this afternoon, a show tonight and then we fly home tomorrow for the Christmas break.

Dirty Rotten Editing

Clearly I've been doing my part to help keep telecommunication companies in business. It seems that someone from Paducah read my blog and was offended by it. Telephone calls have been burning across borders ever since.

The purpose of my blog has always been to entertain. Stimulate, yes. Engage, sure. Titillate, perhaps. Enlighten, enliven and encourage conversation....absolutely. But the primary reason the blog exists is to entertain people by sending tiny little bits and bytes of me and my crazy life out into cyberspace so that those in my life, and the people in their circles don't seem so far away.

None the less, in the interest of international peace & goodwill (it is Christmas after all), in the interest of international commerce (the economy being what it is), in the interest of the greater good and proving that we humans might be able to prove our self-professed superior intellect if we keep trying, I have graciously decided to edit the chapter in question.

In the interest of authenticity, however, I decided to leave my spelling and grammatical errors intact.

Dirty Rotten Tallahassee

So the thing about KY restaurants not serving liquor on Sundays turns out to be not true. We now begin to wonder if the helpful local crew member who whipped us into a frenzy with horror stories of dry Kentucky on a Sunday is having a good laugh with her quilting group. It's true that you can't buy it, but restaurants can serve it as many of the company find as the day progresses.

Another day of travel mayhem looms ahead of as I try to run away from reality by slapping the snooze button on my 6 a.m. alarm. We load the bus and depart the hotel by 7 a.m. heading for Nashville to catch a 10:50 a.m. flight. Ten or so minutes of driving on the interstate and we have to turn around. Keely has left her purse (and therefore, her passport) in the breakfast room. The real comedy here is the fact that moments before we departed, Jessica brought the purse onboard, thinking that it belonged to Karen Kay. When Karen Kay said that it was not hers, Jessica returned the purse to the breakfast room where she found it.

En route to Nashsville airport we encounter a serious traffic slow down due to an accident. This slow down, combined with our unscheduled return to the hotel puts us in jeopardy of missing our flight. Suddenly, everything turns into a military operation as we figure out the best way to stream line our check-in and departure. Our airline reservations have been made in groups of four, so we are divided into those groups, one person in each group responsible for checking-in and printing the boarding passes of the other 3. We are STRONGLY ENCOURAGED to leave every possible bit of baggage on the bus since it will arrive in Tallahasee by the time we finish the show. This will keep us from being held up by checking and paying for stowed luggage. (Currently, I have nothing with me but my purse, my laptop and some contact lenses. I am hoping that the bus gets here before our reception after the show so that I can at least change my shirt.) We blow through the airport like a force to be reckoned with and arrive at the departure gate with time enough to buy a coffee and/or muffin. We should have had the soundtrack from an "Indiana Jones" movie playing during our assault on the terminal.

We arrive, an hour later, in Atlanta to make our connection to Tallahasee......and disaster strikes. The flight has been over-sold and four of our cast may have to wait for the next flight. The rest of us board and cross our fingers. Three of the missing four board the plane, (thanks to volunteers who are willing to take a later flight) but Melanie is left behind in Atlanta. Tyler will now have to drop us off at the hotel and then return to airport to await her arrival. Tyler shows no visible signs of stress except for his hair that grows taller and fluffier as he continues to run his hands through it.

Tallahasee is another arena show, like the one in London. No ice this time, but the same otherwise. The p0st-show reception is no small affair. They have laid out a spread for us and their subscribers that includes a seafood buffet, roast beef, roast turkey, and coffee & liqueur bar.....you name it. One of the subscribers tells me that this is the bonus for having to play in an arena and that a performing arts center in the works. The bus has not arrived as we thought it would so those of us who left everything on it earlier in the day now look conspiculously under-dressed and under-shaven for a "do" of this calibre.

The view of Tallahasee from my 14th floor hotel room is stunning. It seems as though this little city was just dropped into the midst of a forest, greenery stretching off to the horizon.

DIRTY ROTTEN PADUCAH ky

The theatre is beautiful and the community is quite proud of it. It cost 50 million, 20 of with the government gave them and they fund-raised the rest. We've played to about 1,200 people each night and they loved the show.

We averted a near disaster last night. Today is our day off, which means we are spending it here in Paducah. One of the local crew happened to overhear us talking about the things we wanted to do and informed us that, not only can you not buy liquor in Kentucky on a Sunday, RESTAURANTS CANNOT SERVE IT EITHER !!!!!!!!!!! We knew we were in the bible belt but COME ON. It reminds me of the bad old days in Alberta when your food bill had to be higher than your liquor bill in order to appease the Churchies. We informed our company manager that if he wanted to avoid a mutiny, the bus would make a stop at the liquor store on the way back to the hotel so that we could have cocktails on our day off. I'm sure the employees at the liquor store are still talking about the night that 20 crazy people stormed the store. It's even possible that a sign has gone up that says, "No more than 5 actors at a time."

Tomorrow will be another long day as we have to leave the hotel at 6 a.m. to drive to Nashville in order to fly to Tallahassee FL....then do a show that night. At least it will be warmers.

Photos of Michael and Sarah in and out of their crew bus.

Dirty Rotten Ames

An uneventful trip from Minneapolis to Ames Iowa. There is more grumbling and outbursts as we arrive at the hotel to find that, once again, the info. sheets are a lie and there are no actual restaurants within walking distance. Our company manager is, once again, on the phone screaming at people. Who needs t.v. when we can just push the company manager's buttons and watch him go.

The theatre is on the campus of Iowa State University and it is HUGE!!!! No, I mean really, truly, gargantuan. We've played theatres that hold 2500 people before, but something about the design of this one makes the space particularly cavernous. The main floor holds 1700 and playing to the back row is like playing to the other end of a football field. There are three balconies and the top one is high enough that you could base jump from it. Obviously, we're a big attraction as the main floor is mostly full and there are a good number of seats sold on the first level balcony and loges. Steve and I, in an effort to articulate, give the orchestra a 2 hour spit-shower. It's like playing the coliseum in Rome.

Upon returning to the hotel, any restaurant that will deliver does a hefty business as the post-show hunger sets in.

Another day of traveling as we begin making our way to Paducah KY. (Come on, say it out loud. It's fun. Paducah!) Today we will get half-way there, spending the night in Champaign IL. When do we get to the warm states again?

DIRTY ROTTEN MINNEAPOLIS

After hours of driving through endless evergreen forest on a two-lane highway (shades of my childhood in Northern Manitoba) we finally reach the interstate and begin to re-emerge into civilization.

While unpacking the night before, I realize that I have left the power cord for my laptop in the hotel in London. This stresses me a lot because not only can I not charge or use my laptop, but my mp3 player also needs to be charged from the laptop. Translation: I've just lost 80% of my bus-ride entertainment. We stop for a meal break in Hayward WI, a pimple with a grain elevator in the middle of nowhere, and I spy a tiny shack with a sign that says, " GADGETS - computer sales & service". I figure it's a long-shot, but worth a try. To my major astonishment, they have a choice of 2 power cords for me to buy! Clearly it was meant to be. (The housekeepers in London have since been in touch and are mailing my old power cord to my house.)

As we near Minneapolis, the children are all planning what kind of exciting "things" they're going to do on our night in the big city. Though I really enjoy my cast, I don't need to spend 24 hours a day with them, and I picture myself , alone, in a civilized martini bar somewhere, watching the world and enjoying the sensation of NOT moving. A short walk from the hotel finds me exactly what I'm dreaming of. Lots of teak, a long bar, black leather on the stools. I stand out from the after-work-business crowd, but the detailed way in which I order my martini earns me an almost audible murmer of acceptance. I begin to understand how right I was to let my nose lead me to this place...there is a line of martini glasses chilling with ice cubes behind the bar, a squeeze bottle of olive juice in the fridge and the bartender asks me how cold I prefer my martinis !!!! The shoppers shop, the music muses, the business crowd bizes....all is well in my world.

On the way back to the hotel I stop at MASA, an upscale Mexican restauraunt because I notice that they do take out. I order 3 chicken tacos (the authentic soft kind, not the Americanized crunchy kind)and take them back to my room. I am floored by how delicious they are. Best Mexican food I've had outside of Mexico !!!

N.B.
Downtown Minneapolis is very much like downtown Calgary, but with people.

The bed in my suite is so huge I have to roll over three times to be able to read the time on the alarm clock. I laugh out loud and drift away.

Dirty Rotten Blizzard

The matinee in London reaches it's conclusion without incident. It is a smaller, quieter crowd - Sunday afternoon with Granny.

Our plan is to get directly on the bus and begin our lengthy trek to Houghton MI. It's so remote that we'll have to do it in 2 installments, aiming to end the first part by over-nighting in Gaylord MI. As we leave London and head toward the Sarnia border crossing, the snow has already started to fall and continues to get heavier as we drive. We manage to make it across the border fairly quickly and easily. (We hear later that the crew gets hassled by a dickhead with an inflated sense of self-importance who eventually (and inexplicably) charges them all $6.00 and lets them continue.

We stop for a meal break at a Cracker Barrell restaurant/country store which is the ultimate in fake country/homey kitsch. But the fire is real the biscuits are hot. We watch the snow continue to pile up on the rocking chairs outside the windows.

Driving on, the road conditions get worse and worse and the bus goes slower and slower. We realize that our ETA is getting later and later. Drinking begins. Our stage manager realizes that it's probably not the best time to try to enforce the alcohol rules at this point. We eventually reach our hotel in Gaylord at 2 a.m., tired, grumpy and more that a little tipsy. We wake up the entire hotel on our way to our rooms. Though I am only in the room for 6 hours, I make a mental note to ask the rest of the cast if their rooms are decorated with photos of Neuschwanstein, the castle from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

The morning comes too soon as we load the bus at 10 a.m to continue. Though the snow has let up, the roads are still covered and there are many phone calls being made as to the fate of tonight's show. The producers insist that we try to make it there, even though the trucks and crew will not arrive in time to do a complete set up. It is decided that we will do a 'bare-bone's version of the show, eliminating large set pieces, back drops and even some costumes. Our ETA is 6:15 for a 7:30 show. Our joy at doing yet another 'version' of the show can only matched by our ecstasy at the thought of spending another 8 hour day on the bus tomorrow. Fortunately, we have all purchased ligour from the gas station.
We arrive at the hotel at 6:20 for what is supposed to be a 7:30 show. We are given 30 minutes to shower/shave/pray/vomit and tole that the curtain will be held for as long as it takes for us to do a sound check and safety-spacing rehearsal. The show starts at 8:02 and the crowd goes wild.

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.