Day Eight: The Da Gooper Code

We read through Act Three again with many pauses to solidify our (here comes the cliche) motivations. Victoria has brought lots of food to eat, including black sesame crackers, cookies, and long green beans. The theatres begins its production of The Santaland Diaries tonight, and it's being performed right over our heads. Big Daddy is not here, so we read up to his entrance and go back over the beginning of the act. I sit next to Mae so we can physically act our martial crabbiness a bit.

We finally have the Gooper Talk, wrestling with what he's trying to do here and why the dynamic between Mae and him works the way it seems to. Gooper is itching to start his sales pitch but Mae cuts him off. This happens a few times. Eventually Gooper begins telling her to shut up. He also uses Doc Baugh to deliver the cancer new to Mama so she won't tune out Gooper immediately after.

While Gooper's pitch was the audition piece, I didn't realize until last night that I was doing it all wrong. The director asks me how I'm approaching it, and I admit to the Frank Burns template. But I admit that I don't want Gooper to be so broadly funny; I want the humor to come from his sincere aggravation with everyone working against him to deliver this planned appeal. But I have been too desperate in the delivery. The director wants Gooper to shift into lawyer mode for his pitch, and it makes all kinds of sense. It was something I considered, by using the Kevin Spacey template, but feared it would be too similar to Brick's subtlety. But the script gives Gooper enough frustration where that isn't a problem. Plus, Brick is virtually absent from this scene. So Gooper can be quieter.

The trick was something I realized in the second read through. He's not appealing to Mama, he's talking down to her. And one line clenched it for me. Mama realizes that Gooper is worming his way to the estate and literally stands up to him. She even channels Big Daddy by calling it "crap," a word she's ever been too gentile to use. Mae feigns indignation, but she's really just panicked that they've lost the deal. But Gooper says "something is me is deeply outraged [Williams' emphasis] at hearing you talk like this." I had said that before as if he's really stunned by it. But if he instead says it like a disappointed parent, that opens up everything else he says to a similar interpretation. I had before read his breaks in sentences as if he's desperately fumbling for words (for about two minutes I considered aping Jack Lemmon in Glen Gary Glenross, now immortalized as Gil the Hapless Salesman on "The Simpsons"). But now he can be cautiously choosing the easiest words for her to understand. He's a lawyer talking to a jury, making his argument and avoiding the legal terms.

The director asks me and Gooper at the same time if I can be narcissistic enough, if I have a big enough ego to act like the scene revolves around me. My mind flashes to two replies:
1. I'm an actor. Are you kidding? Obviously I've been two polite and deferential in these rehearsals.
2. I just wrote my program bio today. I'm swimming in the magnificence of my career.

Can I take command of the scene? Can I be a fury of confounded logic amongst a gaggle of Southern harpies? Can I chew these lines a bit and maybe flash some of the Big Daddy flamboyance? Shit, yeah. (As Your Sis said later that night, "Did you tell him you're a Leo?")

And with that deliberation, Gooper's a new character. And I am jazzed. These are the kinds of moments that make acting more than just a search for applause. The mental construction, the pattern assembling into logical foundation, and the code cracking before you. It's as if I bumped up an enlightenment level in the Buddha chain. I can actually feel the sides of my brain widen a bit.

I also had a second flash: Mae and Gooper represent a third vision of matrimony. The first act let's us see Maggie and Brick, with her as the dominant one. Act Two gives us Big Daddy laying' down the law and lording over Mama. But Gooper and Mae in Act Three are equally stubborn and clashing in ways the other people don't. When Brick and Maggie have their big fight in Act One, it ends with the two laughing at themselves for getting so carried away. In Act Two, Mama blithely sloughs off Daddy's insults until he tightens his focus and really hurts her. And in Act Three, Mae and Gooper fight to a draw as they use different tactics to hit their goal, and they exit the play with the same defeated mindset.

So, yeah, it was a big night. And I can't wait 'til Sunday's read through to try out the new angle.

Previous entries:
Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six
Day Seven

Picture of the Day
I think I want this a lot.

Day Seven: Reading Act Three

The scripted tension of Act Two flows into a chaotic family explosion in Act Three and blossoms into hilarity. It doesn't help that the cast has the giggles so everything is funny. This is Gooper's chance to be whatever we're going to make him -- dick, henpecked wimp, spoiled brat, whiny pouter -- I need help deciding how to navigate his shifts in mood. He seems to be scared of Big Daddy, but that may be dismissive petulance. He pounces on Brick and Maggie whenever he can, and they can't do much to fight off his righteousness. He's also trying to convince Mama to sign paperwork giving him control of the estate at the same moment she's despairing over Big Daddy's cancer. Very little happens in the first two acts, everything happens in the third, and Gooper's right there in the middle of it. But I don't know how to make his swings logical.

It helps that Mae is written so obviously catty toward Maggie and Brick and that the actress is digging into the role. I'll have to match her energy to make Gooper interesting, and that will determine how I play him. He can be sullen on a few lines, but he barks at her to shut up as he tries to control the room. And it doesn't help that Mama calls out for her Brick, whom she calls "her only son." This is going to hurt Gooper and make it hard for him to work his plan. Gooper has his plan, and everyone seems to be working against it. What we have here is a hapless schemer. Fate hates Gooper too.

It's a quick act, and we spend about a half hour later going over some details. Why does Big Daddy come back into the room in such high spirits? Why does he tell the vulgar joke about the elephant? Is it to goad Brick into action with Maggie? Is he callous toward Mama here or playful? This is the third act Williams wrote for the 1974 revival of his play, and it's different from the first version he wrote and the Broadway version Kazan demanded. Originally, Daddy was supposed to stay offstage and start to die. Now, he reappears in a totally different demeanor but retains some malice and froth for Gooper and Mae, the obvious villains of the piece.

Williams also restored the fantastic last line from his first version which Kazan foolishly tossed. Maggie makes Brick a bargain: If he sleeps with her to make a child, she'll give him the liquor he needs (and he puts down about a whole bottle in the two hours beforehand). She confesses that she can be the stronger of the two and mold him into the patriarch of the family. She says finally "I love you," and Brick, drunken and dry-witted, says "wouldn't it be funny if it were true?" That line makes the play, and it killed me to see Kazan ejected it in favor of a another angry rant from Maggie.

It's an early night for us, and I go home to attend to Your Sick Sis and wrap Christmas gifts. Nothing saddens me quite like a lit tree with nothing underneath it. It makes me break out into Blanche DuBois accents and lament the sad cruelty of all things. Oh, I declayah.

Previous entries:
Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (9-4), NY Jets (7-6), Oakland (2-11)
Philly (7-6), Detroit (2-11)

My Teams
Miami (6-7), Pittsburgh (6-7)
Philly (7-6), Carolina (6-7)

I was too depessed to post this earlier. Carolina has fallen into utter crap as the QB lost his magic and the vaunted defense can't contain anyone. Your Sis is almost nauseous that she skipped over the Bears to pick the Lions.

Picture of the Day
This is Bad Wrong. I loved the cartoon way back in my toddler days, and I can't watch a real dog -- even a beagle -- FXed all to hell. Why not make a 3D animated movie of the cartoon?



In The News
Even in recess, Congress is a big fat drama queen. Senator Tim Johnson of South Dakota had what appeared to be a stroke in the middle of a phone interview. He's now hospitalized in critical condition. His failing health and possible replacement by a Republican via the South Dakota governor would cancel the Democrat majority in the Senate and give the GOP an edge through Dick Cheney's vote in a tie.

+ + +

National Institutes of Health officials said circumcision can cut the risk of men to contract HIV from heterosexual sex by 50%. This is based on trials from Kenya and Uganda.

Day Six: Act Two Redux

We run through the blocking of the first two acts, and I don't have to arrive until 8 p.m. I use the time to track down my last Christmas item (a NASCAR shirt for mom) and arrive at rehearsals around 7:40. Daddy and Mamma and Victoria the assistant stage manager is there. So are the kids. Linda the costume lady is fitting folks with early designs. One daughter is given a bright red dress and a sterling Indian headdress. The littlest is given a Shirley Temple-style sailor dress. It sparkles. It's cute. I want to gag. The older son is given a cowboy pistol, and he wastes no time shooting and twirling. I hear I might get a red bowtie. Mamma admits that she loves saying "Goooopah," and Daddy barks it as "GOOpa." It cracks me up.

We start the Act Two run-through a little after eight, and it's just the one time. Daddy and Brick have some trouble keeping their blocking in line over their considerable time onstage. This is the core scene of the play. Act One leads up to it; Act Three is its damage. While the read-through for the act clocked in just under an hour. This run-through takes a little longer with some pauses and repeated cues. I'm not sure how well they can cut that time or if its really possible.

I sketch some more.

Previous entries:
Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five

Picture of the Day
That's the Maggie actress, the ear of Doc Baugh, and my stinky foot.

Day Five: Blocking Act Two

Your Sis and I have exchanged a bug, and I felt a little icky yesterday. I called the director and asked if he wanted me to stay home. He said to do so if I felt infectious, but said it would be an early night for most of us as he was going to block Act Two and its long scene between Daddy and Brick. Gooper appears for the first time here but exits within 12 pages. The act continues for another 40. If it was going to be an early night, I thought I'd be OK to go. Because I work just minutes from the theatre, I stay at the office for an extra two hours, eat supper, and browse online. I always lose weight during rehearsals because I eat so little for supper and don't have the chance to snack heavily as I usually do.

I get to the theatre and shoot the breeze with Daddy and Mama and Sonny, one of the Gooper children. We got an email earlier in the day that the Reverend Tooker role had been recast, and sure enough, there's our new Tooker. The other guy never showed up. The audition room is now marked off to represent the stage. There's a small bed made up of some benches, a row of chairs to approximate the couch, a stool with some glasses and a bottle to make a liquor cabinet, and a bench for a coffee table. Signs marked "DOOR" are taped to the floor on either side of the stage floor. This area is much smaller than the the actual stage, but this allows the director to determine how we'll move around. All the play takes place in this bedroom that Brick and Maggie use.

Before we start, we meet the new artistic director of the theatre, a gal who took the job a month ago. We introduce ourselves and who we're playing, and she promise to learn all our names by the end of the show.

The full cast is here tonight for the first time. Daddy and Brick have blocked their scene, and now we'll construct the movement of the family around that. The family gathers to give Daddy his birthday cake and presents. Gooper and Tooker stroll in talking about items people have bought for the church, including memorial windows. This pisses off Daddy, thinking the two are suggesting a new window might be dedicated for him soon. The kids sing to Daddy and Mama. Mae reveals that Margaret had to buy Brick's present for Daddy. Daddy barks at the women to shut up, annd that sends him over the edge into Rantville, and everyone leaves him alone to interrogate Brick. And then they talk for about 40 pages while people pop in and out of the room.

The kids have done a good job learning their songs already, and the Mae actress is right next to them walking them through the lyrics. This is one of those rare stage moments where you can actually do what the characters are supposed to. The kids don't have to leanr the song perfectly. The stage directions call for the kids to linger a bit longer in the scene, but the director makes them exit early to avoid as much of Daddy's obscenity as possible. We're not so much worried about the kids hearing it; they already have many times. But audience members -- especially the perceived gentile older patrons -- might blanche at the sight and cause a stink. So off go the kids. During this, I will improv some unheard dialogue with the Tooker and Doctor actors while we stand in the background.

Blocking this helps me in two ways. First, I can memorize the lines better. I have many more cues and marks to help me remember what I'm supposed to say. I have a very hard time remembering lines if I just try to learn them off a script. But if movement and gestures and an aural flow of dialogue is included with the lines, I pick them up almost immediately. My mind plays back the scene to me, and I have a better idea why my character says such-and-such.

Second, we move and react to each other, and that builds my character for me. I can work on posture, physical reactions, unspoken responses to the other characters, maybe some shared looks of concern with Mae. In this act, Gooper has to bray twice. Once during Big Daddy's vulgar ribbing of Brick and the other offstage. Because I have to laugh "loud and false" as the directions command, I find myself leaning back and forth from the waist as if I'm expelling the laughter. It physically makes Gooper look like a jerk, and it's something I never even thought about before. I'm keeping it until the director says otherwise.

We slowly block the scene once and then run through it at a quicker pace. The kids are excused for the night as are some other actors. Mae and I are starting to buddy up to each other, and we should to foment that conspiratorial bond. Those that pop in during Act Two stick around and make their appearances, and we end around 9:30. It's not the early night I was told, but I got to watch Daddy and Brick's movements (and their nice), and I sketched them going through lines.

Previous entries:
Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four

Picture of the Day
And here 'tis.

Reason #7,412 Why Your Sister Rocks

She bought two small pizzas, wrapped them in foil, and sneaked them into Casino Royale last night. Her return from Africa has made her a bona fide smuggler. We saw the movie with Kathy who was desperate to get out of her newly-infested-with-baby house.. It was her first time and our second. They giggled like schoolgirls over Daniel Craig the whole time. The film holds up on second viewing, and its quality in direction shines.

I slept in the Sick Bed last night as I fear the Gooper children brought a bug to the rehearsals. I'm feeling weird in the head.

Picture of the Day
New pictures from the third Pirates movie are leaking online. This came from a Russian site. Apparently the gang heads toward China.

Day Four: Talking It Through

This evening is a full Act Two run-through, and everyone in the act is supposed to be there. We are joined by the child actors for their brief appearance. The Gooper kids are to sing happy birthday to Big Daddy and follow that with a little crap ditty called Skinamrinka-Dinka-Dink. You've never heard a more interminable song made up of twenty words. The Mae actress (and I'll have to talk later about my concern about her) leads the kids through the songs, and she's serving two roles here. First, she's serving as a good kid handler for the show, and second, she's bonding with them so they'll like her when she's in character. I stay away for two reasons. First, Gooper hates his children, and second, I hate children. I call this Method Living.

And not 30 seconds after the kids regale us with this, Big Daddy starts goading Brick. Brick broke his foot the night before by jumping hurdles at his old high school. Daddy, in order to see if his son has any interest in women, asks if he were instead fucking a woman on that track. And he's throwing around the words "poontang" and "fuck." This is the actor who's already months ahead of us in his performance, and he's roaring on all cylinders. And the kids are sitting right next to him. And their eyes are getting big. Leslie the Director wisely excuses the kids for the night, and again one wonders if the parents prepared these kids at all for what they will hear for the next months. I say we get the kids acclimated to it. But then, I refer you to my earlier comments about children. Anyway, they leave.

We get into Act Two, and we occasionally stop to comment on the character or a particular lines. This isn't common in my theatre experience. We're all offering notions about why something occurs the way it does and when. We spend a long time, maybe 20 minutes, piecing together the web of deceit involving Daddy's diagnosis. Who knows the truth, how do they know, how did they keep Daddy and Mama out of the loop, how is the family doctor involved, and how did they plan to reveal the information? My thought is that Gooper is the lynchpin. He wants Daddy to be clearly diagnosed so the former can start planning for the estate. Daddy has no will. Gooper wants the land. Brick's likely to get it. Gooper has the motivation and apparently the weaselly guile to steal the estate, and it's clear from Act Two that Daddy hates him and only pretends to like him. Then again, is Daddy sincere about that or is he just full of bluster on his birthday joyful at the false diagnosis? We decide he really is giddy and renewed about his life because it sets up Brick's behavior during their long father-son chat. Brick knows Daddy's dying even as the latter rails on and on (and on and on) about living life and discarding social courtesy.

What these conversations resemble is the gaming sessions of my high-school days, when role-players sat around the room and crafted their characters aloud. Imagine getting a D&D campaign with a script. It feels just like that. We're extrapolating, projecting, and connecting dots between characters and the dialogue. I always thought RPGs could be a gateway to theatre for some folks, and this kind of interaction is the direct conduit for that transition.

For instance, during the Brick-Daddy throwdown, Gooper answers a phone offstage. We heard him in the audience. His words work as a Greek chorus for Brick's revelation that he abandoned his best friend as the latter drunkenly confessed, over the phone, that he loved Brick. Because Daddy forced this out of him, Brick lets fly that Daddy is actually dying of cancer. Right after this line, Gooper peels off a "high, shrill laugh" and tells his phonemate that everything is upside down. The actor playing the doctor wonders what's going on in that phone call and asks me directly. Well, there's nothing in the script that says, but I tell him I see it as Gooper talking to his lawyer bosses. He tells Mama in Act Three that she has to act quickly on the estate because he has to go back to Tennessee to prosecute a lawsuit. Now that may be a lie to pressure her into a snap decision, but then again this could be another example of Gooper living up to one more front of pressure. It doesn't matter so much what the phone call is about so long as Gooper presents to the audience a certain tone to contrast Brick's state of mind. This is where being an English major really helps an actor.

We do this kind of mental branching all night. What does Daddy know? Why does he say certain things to Brick? Why do Maggie and Mae hate each other? Things Williams doesn't tell us. Now I don't think we have to know these things to make a good show. The usual progression for actors is to know the character intimately and then let that understanding seep out during the lines. But there's the potential with this play, and not just with Gooper, to work the opposite way: Hit each line only as it works in that specific context and allow the audience to construct the character for you. This is how I'm piecing together my role for the first two acts. There's just so little he gets to say with any chance of investing emotion until Act Three. I'm so far stuck between two possible styles for Gooper:

A) The whiny, pathetic Frank Burns type, a guy who knows everyone hates him, suspects every overheard laugh is about him, and takes glee in plotting his Master Plan to show them all. He is paranoid.

B) The Kevin Spacey American Beauty template of quiet exasperation. This guy is so calloused by life's direction that he barely exudes the strength to gets his words out. He mumbles. He blinks slowly as he sighs his surrender to social expectations. He simmers inside until he blows his stack. He is bereft of joy.

Pessimism or nihilism. Somewhere there is my Gooper.

It's a good run-through. The Brick actor is starting to salt his words with nice inflections and pauses. He's feeling it. Big Daddy, however, is dealing with a new version of the play than what he's performed before, so he can't coast through. He has new dimensions to his character, and he's discovering nuances the part hasn't had before. I have yet to think these actors will be the weak link for the show. And if an actor can't find that among a crowd, it usually means he's the weak link, so I want to make sure I bring as much to the character as is appropriate.

And I wait for Act Three. Much like Gooper does, I suppose.

Side note: We still haven't seen the guy assigned to play Reverend Tooker. At some point, the director has to recast the role. I hope. I have to work with that guy onstage.

Previous entries:
Day One
Day Two
Day Three

Picture of the Day
This European superconductor magnet will be used next year for a supercollider experiment to recreate molecules a few milliseconds after the Big Bang. Or it will create a black hole and kill us all.


In the News
The Iraq Report has, of course, polarized the pundits. Does it represent a candy-coated plan for completely withdrawal or does it offer a means of salvaging Iraq into a stable democracy? The split is not along party lines. Washington is perceived as waiting to see what Bush will do with the report coming as it does from a group of people with little actual representative power but possessing a huge cache of respect in the political world. Co-Chairman James Baker (and close ally of Bush 41) is reported to have laid into Bush after the election to prepare him for what was to come in the report. Baker may have taken the reigns from Cheney, if one believes Bush has a puppet master. But Baker has certainly ascended since November's voting, and Cheney, Rice, and of course Rumsfeld have stayed out of sight and sound.

+ + +

The Pearl Harbor survivors who gather annually say this, their 65th anniversary assembly, will be their last rendezvous. They gathered every five years and don't expect to make it to their 70th. I'm gonna go into the bathroom and cry for a little while.

+ + +

The shuttle might launch tonight. If the weather holds out. If the rockets don't fall off. NASA wants to build a moonbase, but it's unlikely they'll get the necessary funds. And a batch of Mars pictures may suggest flowing water. Or they could suggest a rockslide.

Day Three: Reading Act Two

Because another theatre group is using the building for their Christmas Carol, we move a few blocks over to the Arts Council office to rehearse. I've had a week off while the Act One folks design their stage movements (this is called "blocking"). Gooper is only heard in Act One. He strides the stage in Act Two briefly, but again becomes one of the Greek chorus voices during the Brick/Big Daddy throwdown.

All three acts occur with not time passing during intermissions. Act One starts with Maggie telling Brick the family is walking into the room, and Act Two starts with them entering. In this act, Big Daddy hits the stage, owns it, proclaims his philosophies, confronts Brick about his drinking, and learns he is dying of cancer. Our Big Daddy actor is making his third run at the character and is already performing during this, our read through. We're seated at a small table, intimately arranged and going through Act Two like a radio production. The director reads stage directions aloud.

We still haven't seen the person cast as Reverend Tooker. He hasn't appeared at any rehearsals, and I assume it's because of lingering family illness. I hope he would have told someone if he planned on dropping the show. Speaking of dropping, Cory (Big Mama) shows us a calendar of actors from a recent area production of The Full Monty. She tells us that one actor quit the play in the last weekend because he thought his sister was treated shabbily by the theatre. She brought a small baby to the show and was told to sit in the far back so she could remove the kid if it made noise. She took offense and left. He took greater offense and quit. The theatre was in the right. I've tried to act over screaming kids in the audience. All you can do is wait for them to inhale so you can get your lines out.

The reading goes well. We eat some of the cookies Victoria brought, and after the read we discuss the act. The big question concerns the brothers: Just why does everyone hate Gooper? He was their first child, he's eight years older than Brick and should be a shoo-in for primogeniture. But he's a dick. Big Daddy says repeatedly he hates Gooper (and his wife and kids) and manages to admit he respects Brick even as he's yelling at him about his marriage and drinking. It could be anything really; Williams offers no hint as to why Gooper is bad, and I prefer it that way. He simply is. We know that he's closer to Mama but that even she prefers Brick and calls him "her son" to the exclusion of Gooper more than once. It does explain why Brick feels such weight; he's expected to make up for Gooper's churlishness.

The actress playing Mae suggests Gooper is a bit queer in every sense of the word, and she makes sure I understand she means the character not the actor. I laugh it off. I don't mind giving Gooper a degree of softness, and I even think it's needed to contrast with Brick. There is a direction that Gooper utters a high, shrill laugh offstage, and I've already thought of imitating that of Big Mama, to underscore his (relative) closeness with her and show that he takes after her while Brick takes after Big Daddy.

There's some talk about what the brothers would have done on the estate, all 28,000 acres of it. Leslie estimates that at 45 square miles. What could they have done? Act as overseers? That reminds me, Big Daddy has already dropped That En Word from the script and now refers to the fieldworkers as "field hands." We still don't know if we're gonna smoke onstage as the script demands. Gooper lights up a cigar early on, and it will kake for a great props. Cigarettes are the best friend to an actor. You can use them to dramatically adjust your breath for line delivery, and it gives you something to gesture with. I've smoked onstage before for Glass Menagerie, and aside from a brief period of smoking with my college girlfriend (she thought it was sexy), I don't smoke. But rehearsing it didn't give me an addiction, and I chucked my last pack when Menagerie ended.

But audiences lately have become downright bitchy about smoking onstage. Even dry ice will induce some folks to cough, and worse, exaggerate their coughs as a form of protest. Theatres nowadays will post warnings in the lobby about smoking, alongside notes about nudity or language. Do we use fake cigars? Do we just not light the ones we carry? This decision will not be made by me, but I can go either way. I've never smoked a cigar and don't know how much different it is from the Camels, Basics, and bongs (again, college; they did nothing for me) I've puffed before.

My concern now is practicing that laugh.

Previous entries:
Day One
Day Two

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (9-3), NY Jets (7-5), Oakland (2-10)
Philly (6-6), Detroit (2-10)

My Teams
Miami (5-7), Pittsburgh (5-7)
Philly (6-6), Carolina (6-7)

Carolina may need a new QB as Delhomme is throwing it unwisely and giving away points. They have to win this week's game with also-shaky New York to have a prayer of making the playoffs. But if they don't fix the QB, they shouldn't bother. New England remains the best out of our picks, but they are not even in the top three teams in their conference. That would be Indy, Baltimore, and Cincinnati.

Moving Picture of the Day
This is good. Liu Kang and Ric Flair have a whoo-off.

Christmas Rasslin'

A late pub dinner on Friday prepared us for a Saturday of movement. Your Sis called me Friday ngith as I left work to say the work shed was standing wide open and a window was busted. I told her to take pictures of it and send them to my cellphone before we call the police. Then I called her back to ask her if the house looked OK. It did, and she added details of the shed that made it clear that it has nod been broken into. The lock had rusted off the door, causing it to swing open, and it was a flower box below a window that broke. I picked up a new staple and hasp (the technical terms for the door lock components Saturday morning. We had a quick lunch and hit Asheville for shopping.

Asheville has a new used bookstore that is loaded with good title for about $1. I filled my arms with goodies and even picked up -- oh my stars and garters -- a PS2 game that recreates 60 Intellivision games. This was the system I grew up with, my first video game console. And it was $6. After that shock, we drove to Asheville Mall, which wasn't as bad as you might think for the first weekend in December. I found some items for my parents and one for my college buddy, Mark. Your Sis found a booth selling German roasted pecans, a discovering rivaling my Intellivision game. She was aglow over this. And she immediately scheming her schemy schemes for how to hook you up with it. She dropped me off in front of the Civi c Center for a rasslin show, and I met up with Kathy and Travis there.

The Civic Center's auditorium is a lovely warm venue for concerts. We saw Tom Waits there. But the arena below is a dilapidated relic. The rows aren't labeled. The seats aren't numbered. There's one concession stand. It was chaos. The show itself was pretty good as a number of the WWE Monday roster hit the ring. Kathy and Travis dug it a lot, and Travis demanded we get ringside seats next time. I think he wants to harass the bad guys personally.

On Sunday, we had more pub food; that place is becoming our favorite hangout despite our original love for Mexican. Groceries were bought, papers were graded. I fixed the shed door in a most manly manner. Yes, I'm an English major who reads comics and does plays, but power tools just make me all warm and deep-voiced. Your Sis is now making arrangements with Your Mom for the Christmas visit in a few weeks. A few weeks!

Picture of the Day
Rasslin and nachos. Mmmm-MM!


In The News
CBS reports that our U.S. ambassador to the U.N. has quit. John Bolton was packaged as a no-nonsense, take-no-prisoners hard-ass who was gonna clean up corruption in the agency. And now he's gone. He was never formally approved for the position as Bush gave him an appointment while Congress was in recess, and it was widely believed he had no chance of going back to the U.N. now that the Dems took over both Houses.

Sparse Doings

Even after just two rehearsal nights, I already have an appreciation for my nights off. We ate at the local Mexican restaurant (while there are three, we only ever eat at one), and Your Sis went to bed. She was headed for a quick sleep but was distracted by a PBS special on warplanes, and we cuddled on the couch. Military porn brings a couple together, you know. After she was tucked away, I worked on new comic project that's so brilliant that I dare not mention it online.

Moving Picture of the Day
The brilliant "Terry Tate: Office Linebacker" campaign from Reebok. The shorter version remains my favorite Super Bowl ad ever.



In The News
For a long time, conservative talk-show hosts have blamed administration ineptitude on White House moles embarrassing them with leaked documents. While I'm never one to give them credence, the emergence of a memo defining Iraq's prime minister as useless just hours before Bush was to meet the man raises eyebrows. The planned extended summit became a curtailed conference, and Malakhi bailed on a planned event with Bush and the press yesterday. Did someone sabotage the meeting or does this underscore suspected bureaucratic incompetence in the executive branch? This couldn't have happened at a worse time. A bipartisan panel is about to announce its recommendations on Iraq, and, reportedly , they will say we need to leave. Also a clutch of Iraqi officials (including six cabinet ministers and 30 congressmen) boycotted the prime minister for talking to Bush. It sounds like both sides recognize the PM should be ditched, but he was elected. We made a huge deal about free elections in Iraq. How do we maintain that support for the process but not the result? My cynicism says we should watch for some type of scandal that will remove him from power.

+ + +

Speaking of cynicsm and jaw-dropping administration policies, check out this transcript of a press briefing as Tony Snow and adviser Dan Bartlett change identifications and become Senior Administration Officials to avoid connecting them to their comments on Iraq. If you go here, you can see more examples of the White House issuing transcripts without identifying the official liaison to the press.

Day Two: Act One

It's a smaller crowd today as we go through Act One. Except for short interruptions by Gooper's wife, mom and kids, this is all Brick and Maggie, and Maggie easily dominates. As I flip through the script, Act One runs from page 17 to 63, and I'd say 75% of the text is Maggie's lines. I think we have a good Maggie, someone who can (as Williams commands in his stage directions) hold the tension until the first intermission. Williams also says she has to talk in a sing style, always a little out of breath, and with the cadence of a liturgical preacher. This constraint of style seems daunting at first. Williams is known for psychological realism but character abstraction. This means movement and dialogue may seem nonlinear and even nonsensical, but the cumulative emotional wallop is supposed to ring true. And our reads prove that despite Brick virtually ending every sentence in Act One with "Maggie" and her tendency to sway so quickly from resolved to silky to frail to desperate. From what I've heard so far from our Maggie, she can pull it off.

So tonight it's her, Brick, Mae, Mama, Doc Baugh, and me. Baugh and Gooper do not appear onstage but act as a Greek chorus with their comments outside the mansion. While Brick and Maggie argue about securing Big Daddy's estate or having kids, everyone else is outside playing croquet and making parallel comments about competition and strategy. The actor playing another character, Reverend Tooker, has yet to appear as he has a family illness to contend with. Susan the stage manager reads his lines and that of the kids.

Before we start, Leslie the director offers his philosophy on direction. There is no finalized version of the production in his head, and we're free to work with him to create our characters. For the leads, well, they're pretty well defined. But the supporting actors have leeway, and he notes that kind of freedom can terrify volunteer actors. I've seen that before. Some folks, while they enjoy the rigors of performing, want to follow a strict definition provided by the director. Without it, they become anxious, and that makes for insecurity among the cast. How much can they allow for accidents and the chemistry and performer? Is that person gonna freeze up? Can they adapt onstage to mishaps? I have no idea if we have any such people in this cast, but everyone seems experienced enough for that to be a concern. They don't know me, however, so I need to prove quickly that I'm not a loose cannon (the original definition, not the '80s cop movie version).

I look forward to building Mae and Gooper with Lysa. She seems sharp and clever, and I think we'll be able to define these characters into something fun to play even if we avoid obvious comic relief. They have to be conniving and unctuous to contrast with the sex and power of Brick and Maggie. Ideally Gooper should be a short, fat guy. But I can bring a desperation to the role that underscores his need to prove himself against Brick's universal appeal. Leslie makes reference to "unschooling," a home-schooling theory of allowing the student to pursue his own studies of interest. That's what we'll do here with some discipline when necessary.

He notes that this is the third version of the script Williams created, and this debuted for a 1974 New York production starring Fred Gynne (Munsters, My Cousin Vinny) as Big Daddy. I would have paid big money to see that. Because times had changed since the original stagings, Williams could add harsh language, but he didn't change the details about Skipper and Brick's alleged homosexuality. He wanted it vague, but in my readings I think Brick is proven to be a heterosexual but sensitive man lost in social standards of machismo. He never fucked Skipper, and I don't think he would ever have considered it. But do we keep that rough language? We'll see.

We talk about the setting of the play, and Leslie thinks 1950. But some of us get confused in the references to pro football, television, and specific places. This is a needless concern for me. We all agree that Williams doesn't stick to physical realism. In Glass Menagerie, he commands that the events proceed in a dream-like fashion as the play resides totally in memory. This production should exploit the hazy establishment of place and time, to be as mercurial as Maggie's logic, Big Daddy's passion, and Brick's confidence. We're not sure what music to play before the curtain rises, and Victoria offers to Google some time-appropriate tunes. I'd go with Ray Charles, the early stuff.

During the read-through tonight, Gooper is mentioned more than he speaks, and I note the comments made by Maggie. Before you ever see Gooper, you hate him. Maggie denounces his horrible children and obvious movements to take the estate. It's a lot like my role in Glass Menagerie; the gentleman caller is built up for an hour before he walks onstage so you got to live up to that. Gooper's offstage lines here are pleads for Mae and Mama to come back outside, and I can deliver them in high and whiny Southern tones. That's my plan now, but of course as we mold the play, that may change.

I get a rehearsal schedule for the next two weeks and see I have, in that period) only three more dates to rehearse Acts One and Two. That gives me a lot of time at home to memorize the lines. That'll be easy. I also learn this is the third time our Big Daddy has played the part, and I confess to the assembled that I was terrified he was bringing that kind of resonance to a cold reading, a measure of how much he would eclipse whatever skill I may have. Thankfully, no, so the chasm between us isn't that broad. That curtails a measure of intimidation I have working with this group.

What I feel mostly is a rush of glee. I'm back in a theatre, and we're working as a group to put on a show. This is exhilarating.

Day One: The Read Through

Last night saw the beginning of the rehearsals for the play. The curtain opens on Jan. 19, giving us just under two months to be ready. While that will not be a problem for me, the principals will have to shoehorn in a shitload of monologues into their brains. Maggie and Big Daddy especially talk and talk and talk some more. I actually feel a little bad for the guy playing Brick; he has to spend the majority of stage time listening, which can be boring for an actor.

And just so we're all on the same page, here's what happens in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof:

Maggie and husband Brick are staying at his father's house for the latter's 65-year birthday party. Big Daddy owns land, lots of land, under sunny skies above, but doesn't know he's been diagnosed with cancer. Neither does his wife. In fact, they've been told the opposite; Big Daddy thinks he only has a spastic colon but otherwise is in prime health.

Brick's brother Gooper and his wife Mae are positioning themselves to get Daddy's estate. To that end, they have plopped out five children (with another on the way) and sucked up to Daddy and Mama. Brick and Maggie have no kids and many suspect he's gay. He won't even sleep in the same bed with Maggie and has started rinking heavily. The gossip is that Brick lost his will to live after the death of his best friend (and suspected lover) Skipper. In many ways, Brick is barely present. He just wants to drink himself into tranquility. This is why much of his time is spent listening to his wife and father ramble on about his decline.

Big Daddy confronts Brick about this and forces Brick to admit Skipper's death has diminished him, but Brick states Skipper's friendship was the only good thing he had in his life. He can't stand Maggie. And because Daddy wrenches info out of him, Brick drops the cancer bomb on him. Daddy goes apeshit. Mama has to be told of the cancer, and moments later Gooper and his wife swoop in to make their pitch for the estate. Mama is in hysterics. Daddy confronts his children, but Maggie has her ace card: She tells Daddy she's pregnant with Brick's child (a lie). Gooper and Mae are outraged. Daddy and Mama are giddy. Maggie then locks away the liquor and tells Brick he can only get to drinking again is he makes a baby with her and then they can get Daddy's estate. Brick surrenders to Maggie. Da end.

I was anxious all day to get started. My stomach was a mess, and I had a headache from my perpetual vibrations. I hadn't done a play since April 2004, and this is my first work with this group, a theatre whose work I've ever seen. I don't even know what the performance space looks like. I arrived a little early last night and met Victoria, the lady who escorted the applicants to the audition room. I also meet Linda, the costumer. She and Victoria cackle it up, and I hang back. We move to the audition room which is now our rehearsal space. We set up chairs and tables as other members of the cast arrive. I know no one, and short introductions are made.

I've seen some of these folks before. All the actresses in my last reading of Gooper were cast in the parts they read. The gal playing my wife, Mae, is a spitfire; she added some sass to Mae that could leads us to more comedic performances. And that's fine. The play will need some comic relief and this scheming, sniping couple can be it. Think the Thenardiers from Les Miserables. Or Frank and Hot Lips from the first seasons of MASH. In fact, the latter parallel is not far off at all. Just like those two bitching to Col. Blake about Hawkeye, we go running to Big Daddy to whine about Brick, the drinking golden child who doesn't have to play by the rules. All the while both couples want the boss figure to vanish so the whiny male can take over.

Turns out the calendars we picked up at auditions are for theatre availability, not cast times, and the director will arrive half an hour after us. Linda measures us for costumes. I may get a bowtie, and that's fine because I know how to tie one after Glass Menagerie.

The director arrives and we're introduced to each other and the crew. Some of the kids are there. The actress playing Big Mama has a son who will play one of Gooper's "no-neck monsters." I give a small wave. The actress playing Mae sits next to them to get acquainted. we move into the lobby to see the mock-up of the stage, and it looks great. Williams was very specific of his sets and stage directions (there's a page-long block of text describing Brick's emotional turmoil), and the stage looks very Williamsy.

We move back to the rehearsal room and begin the run-through. Susan the stage manager times us. Act One clocks in at 42 minutes, Act Two at 53, and Act Three at 35. Maggie, a gal from Wisconsin, has a genuinely sexy lilt to her Southern accent, and a clear stage voice. She's a good choice. Big Daddy is played by a man who performed the role before (where, I don't know), and he is delivering a top-notch acting job during our first read. Everyone strikes me as solid. Gooper has a few lines scattered about until Act Three, and then he makes his sales pitch and barks at Mae. One of the Gooper children is brought in to read her small part, and she promptly skedaddles afterward.

But Brick's actor has a pronounced New York accent. And while he's doing some fair Southern enunciations, that accent comes through when Brick's mad. Especially when Brick says "fucking." And hearing this sparks the petty brain voices that say "you could have read that bit better, you could have really hit that delivery." And this isn't fair to him or me. I'm happy with Gooper. It's a sterling asshole role, and this guy looks like a Brick should. He's tall, he's handsome, he has strong eyes. But we're gonna have to work on that accent.

I don't chat too much during our first night. I watch the other people and pick up their dynamics. I'm going to buddy up with the Mae actress, obviously, and eventually that will spill over to the rest of the cast. I don't believe one has to extend any acting method to mirror their character's relationships with that of his to the other actors. I believe a close company will be more comfortable on stage. If they trust you, they don't have to worry about you onstage. That's important. I learn the Brick guy did a play in Brevard with the actor playing Doc Baugh. He comments on the commute from Asheville, the same commute I have to work. He also mentions a Brevard theatre snafu that saw a performance scheduled on the same night as a wedding in the same rented rooms. That show had to move to a matinée, and now I'm very glad I didn't try to work with that company.

The read ends at 9:45ish, and we close up for the day. The director (his name's Leslie) tells us we'll start work on Act One tomorrow. Probably simple blocking and character progressions. Big Daddy is excused for Tuesday as he's not in that act. That actor asks about pronunciations for certain proper names like Louisiana. We need to be consistent. He also asks about the harsh language. Can we say fuck and nigger? Should we say the latter after the Michael Richards incident? What about "field hand" instead? Leslie says we'll decide later. Linda walks in and admits that she had a problem with the language during our reading and objects to "goddamn." She deems it against a commandment (which it isn't), and she notes people objected to it in a run of Menagerie ten years back. She's afraid of people leaving. She's afraid of losing their audience of respectable older patrons. Leslie notes that no one walked out during their mush more recent run of A Few Good Men. Linda pushes her point, and the actors are noticeable tensing. It's not that we don't think Linda shouldn't be concerned, but she's harping now. And it's not her call. Leslie says a decision will be made later, and that gives us a chance to withdraw.

I walk out with the Brick actor (I'll have names as soon as I learn them), and we congratulate each other on tonight's reading. I get home about 10:50, scarf a bag of popcorn, chat with Your Sister, and go to bed.

You can see pics of some of my earlier productions here.

Traveling Weekend

Your Sis and I work well on a lot of levels, but maybe the most convenient is that we travel so easily together. A six-hour car ride with her just flies by even if we're quiet. A fine time was had by all this Thanksgiving at Your Brother's house. He fried a turkey very well, and we ate dinner around 4 p.m. It was a huge spread, and I'm borrowing recipes to make the side dishes for my parents at Christmas. We spent that Thursday evening having drinks on the back porch and playing with Your Brother's thermal vision goggles. Brooke is assimilating everything she hears. I have no clue how bright 22-month-old girls are supposed to be, but she may wreck the curve. She understands directions and the gist of conversations, it seems. She strikes me as perceptive. Also, cute as hell.

We all ate at a local Mexican restaurant Friday night before returning to their house for an unscheduled foosball tournament. Your Sis and I played a bit before letting Your Brother in against the winner, and then Your Dad joined in and we split into teams. When Andrea came down the two of us played against them and were demolished right quick. I never played before, and it was fun. For ten minutes, we weren't in-laws or parents or spouses, but four young people playing a game, and it was spirited and loose. Maybe my best memory of the trip.

We left Saturday morning for home after having breakfast with Your Parents. We stopped by My Parents to take them out for dinner, and we talked about the upcoming play (rehearsals start tonight) and the new James Bond film, Casino Royale.

This is a good Bond film. Daniel Craig is asked to do things other Bonds were not, and he makes for a good new version of the character. It's as shocking a change from Brosnan's style as Moore's was from Connery's, but I wish Brosnan could have had his chance at the film. I think he could have done well. Craig's appeal is that he isn't a prettyboy, but that in no way diminishes his appeal. It adds grit, and the film maintains a new realism because of his work. An early parkour stunt sequence steals the film, but the low-key scenes of quiet tension (either sexual or combative) hold your attention just as well. This is the goods.

We got home about 10:30 and crashed hard into the bed. I spent most of Sunday helping Your Sis correct rough drafts of student papers while watching football.

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (8-3), NY Jets (6-5), Oakland (2-9)
Philly (5-6), Detroit (2-9)

My Teams
Miami (5-6), Pittsburgh (4-7)
Philly (5-6), Carolina (6-5)

Carolina couldn't beat a weak Washington team, Pittsburgh was killed by Baltimore, and the Patriots beat an energetic Chicago team in a game filled with turnovers.

Picture of the Day
Found on a Russian LiveJournal blog. No idea where it comes from.

VH1's Greatest '80s Songs

We saw the final episode last night, the one listing the top 20 '80s songs and it was as shocking as it was sobering. Choices were obviously made by giddy web browsers who were remembering which one they loved while living in the '80s. Whereas I would vote on the top songs to have survived the decade and remained a classic song. So I've dissected the top 25 songs as voted by the Vh1 faithful.

1. Bon Jovi / "Livin' on a Prayer"
No. No no no. This is a fun song. This is a good rock song. But this is not the top song from the decade. No, that song is of course, "Every Breath You Take" by The Police. Overplayed, you say? Ruined by radio dedications on adult contemporary stations, you say? Yes. The song quickly was diluted by those who only glanced at the lyrics and heard what they thought was a romantic testament. It's not. It's a spooky-ass obsessive confession. But it's also a perfect pop song. It's without filler or flash, but it does feature a jarring, desperate plea followed by the chilling repeating chorus. VH1 had it at No. 46, which proves something depressing about humanity. I would put the Bon Jovi song in the top 20, but Your Sis would replace it with their "Runaway." Me, I prefer "Dead Or Alive."

2. Def Leppard / "Pour Some Sugar On Me"
I'm stunned this ranked so high, but I recognize people are assigning it a high number based on cheese factor. It's a goofy song. The lyrics have the cleverness of a high school bathroom stall. And Joe Elliot's high notes are a karaoke killer. But, and this is a big but, Sir Mix-A-Lot, the song rocks. The skittering lead guitar in the second verse is only a hint of the energy that awaits you in the song's concluding chorus. The guitar break is the weakest section, sadly, as the combination of words and percussion bombast make this an irresistible singalong. But this isn't the best raunchy sex rock song o f the decade. For that, you look to the pristine guitar and gravelly singing of ACDC's "Shook Me All Night Long."

3. Duran Duran / "Hungry Like the Wolf"
I can't complain with this. Thank God it wasn't "The Reflex." That song's fun, but it doesn't hold up to repeated listens. "Hungry" does. It's a song with the electronic sound to suggest an emotional detachment, but the rhythm section demands you dance.

4. Michael Jackson / "Billie Jean"
I've tried to describe how it felt to hear this song for the first time. And the best I can do is say it was like music we'd expected to hear ten years into the future. It was like Michael pulled this through time and unleashed it, and hearing it through our obvious inadequate stereos and TVs made it sound that much more unearthly. Exposure was a religious experience. We all became St. Teresa, mesmerized and agape. We had to dance. We had to somehow communicate our body-encompassing glee. But what makes the song great is that it still holds up. That bass line is vicious, and the tight drums underscore the pop-funk at work. Jackson could have sung about anything, and as long as he kept that lyrical cadence, we would have warbled along as best we could. This song is simply engineered by genius. Credit producer Quincy Jones, the same man who gave us the theme from "Sanford and Son."

5. Prince / "When Doves Cry"
An odd duck of a song. The production is almost doggedly soulless, and that allows Prince to inject the soul with his falsetto and clipped delivery, and even he's often singing in a flat tone. This shouldn't work. And it's not even the best song of the Purple Rain CD. That's "Let's Go Crazy," a song that proves Prince is one of the best players to ever pick up an electric guitar.

6. Hall & Oates / "I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)"
I love me some Hall & Oates. And I can't complain with this pick or placement. You can't help but move to the music even as we fail to match John Hall's high notes. Proof that skin color means nothing to making soul music.

7. Guns N' Roses / "Sweet Child O' Mine"
Maybe the best rock ballad ever because the band does everything it can to keep it rocking and refrain from the cheesy sentiment found in their later "Patience." The guitar is barely restrained, and that drummer offers no clue he knows he's playing for a love song.

8. Madonna / "Like a Virgin"
I hate early Madonna, but this is at least better than "Lucky Star," "Holiday," and "Borderline." And that squeaky voice processing is jarring today. For cultural impact, yes, there is no bigger Madonna song.

9. Run-D.M.C. / "Walk This Way"
The song turns to crap when Tyler sings the chorus. But when the rappers control the mic, this is pure gold. And that stuttering guitar lick to start the song is the best guitar sample ever heard.

10. AC/DC / "You Shook Me All Night Long"
Maybe the best rock song ever. Shamelessly joyous and infectious. Should have been higher on the list. Every heavy metal and hair-band song that came after wanted to match this song, and only my beloved Def Leppard came close.

11. Journey / "Don't Stop Believin'"
Yeah. It's that good. It's easy to mock Journey as dated and embarrassing. But these guys created a template for rock ballads. Steve Perry's voice is as sterling as you could hope for.

12. Whitney Houston / "How Will I Know"
At least it wasn't "Greatest Love of All."

13. U2 / "With Or Without You"
The only slow-tempo wail of despair to compete with "Every Breath You Take." I love that guitar work and the wounded "huooooo"hoping to say something words can't.

14. The Bangles / "Walk Like an Egyptian"
"Hazy Shade of Winter" (written by Simon and Garfunkel) was better. So was "Manic Monday" (written by Prince). But the girls had a solid groove going here.

15. Van Halen / "Jump"
The most inoffensive Van Halen song of course could reach a wider audience. Not their best song, but their most famous. It's not bad, mind you. The drumming is criminally under appreciated.

16. INXS / "Need You Tonight"
If any Top 40 rock song of the '80s could be called devil music, it's this.

17. Whitesnake / "Here I Go Again"
A cliche '80s song, a thoughtless inclusion. Still, it's the forerunner of Green Day's "Boulevard of Broken Dreams."

18. Dexy's Midnight Runners / "Come On Eileen"
Maybe THE default '80s song. A novelty tune with web-thin lasting appeal beyond the singing style and violins. It's just goofy.

19. Cyndi Lauper / "Time after Time"
A standout love song. Almost impossible to reconcile with her other hits of the time.

20. Rick Springfield / "Jessie's Girl"
Not nearly as good as "My Sharona," another song about wanting the unattainable girl.

21. Michael Jackson / "Beat It"
I think a lot of people were afraid to say how much they didn't like this song at the time. The rhythm is simplistic, and the chorus is lifeless. The weakest song on an album that includes the almost painfully Caucasian duet with Paul McCartney.

22. The Cure / "Just Like Heaven"
One of two Cure songs everyone knows. The other is "Love Song." Everyone should know "Lovecats," but what can you do?

23. Cyndi Lauper / "Girls Just Want to Have Fun"
She's the only gal with two songs in the top 25, and she deserves it. The song just works.

24. A-Ha / "Take On Me"
Another disposable song famous for the decade in which it was released.

25. Go-Go's / "Our Lips Are Sealed"
The best California song Brian Wilson didn't write.

I'd add "Rock the Casbah" by The Clash, "Heart of Glass" by Blondie, "Once In A Lifetime" by The Talking Heads, and "What Time Is Now" by The Smiths.

Trivia

Some of Your Sister's coworkers joined us at Jack of the Wood for trivia night. Among them was the school's art teacher who asked me to talk to two of his students about cartooning. They draw comics and seem to want to pursue that as a career, but he's not sure how to advise them. I said I'd be tickled to talk to them. I can show them a range of comic styles and art options available to them f they decide to go that route. This was sparked by a book I picked up before we all met at the bar. It's Jeff Smith's Bone, a series published recently in one volume. It's huge. The page numbers stop at 1,32something. The trivia gang couldn't believe it was all one story.

We didn't do so hot at the trivia, but there was one round devoted to Harrison Ford movies, and we owned it. Utter domination. The rest, not so much. We found ourselves against a team we were beaten by when we last played trivia at Mellow Mushroom a few months back. So there are trivia pros lurking about town, and we must drive them off with torches and pitchforks. or hit them with our giant Bone comic books. Jack of the Wood does have good burgers and pumpkin cheesecake. Oddly enough, as I walked to the bar last night, I passed a series of open but empty establishments like Tupelo Honey Cafe and College Street Bar and Grill. There was no one strolling the streets of Asheville yet Jack of the Wood was packed as packed could be.

Picture of the Day
Amazon's depiction of said book. Yeah, it's about that thick.

In the News
The U.N. says almost 40 million people worldwide have HIV.

Weekend Notes

It was a mild weekend here in Mayberry.

We ate at Jason's Main Street Grill, the restaurant that catered the wedding, before heading home for TV couch time. Your Sis is in deep, deep love with "Six Feet Under." We made chocolate chip cookies from a large freezer tub of dough.

On Saturday, I ran about two miles outside before grabbing Mexican lunch and heading off with Kathy and Travis to watch the OSU/Michigan game. we again met the local OSU alum group at a local bar to chant and eat. This was Christmas and Thanksgiving for them as OSU played their hated rivals for the right to play in the national championship game. It was a good game, but the two of them were nervous in the second half as Michigan kept it competitive. But because the bowl ratings system is so screwed up, it's possible these teams will play each other again for the outright title. i took the library's copy of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof back to its home and surprisingly felt a little sad to see it go.

Sunday saw us proof rough drafts of research papers. As per my suggestion, her regular class is no longer writing about persecuted people but Nobel Peace Prize winners. We started watching the post-World Series "House" episodes, caught the newest "Simpsons," and watched a bit of VH1's"Top 100 80's Songs" which I'll write about later. Your Sis was oddly desperate for buffalo wings, so we baked up a batch and ate them throughout the evening. We won't have them tonight as we're heading out to a trivia night at a local bar. My rehearsals start next Monday so last Monday may have been my last wings and rasslin' night for a few months.

My parents will not be able to go to Alabama fot Turkey Day, and we'll try to catch up with them next weekend. It was snowing like crazy as I dove into work, but it didn't stick and seems to have stopped now.

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (7-3), NY Jets (5-5), Oakland (2-8)
Philly (5-5), Detroit (2-8)

My Teams
Miami (4-6), Pittsburgh (4-6)
Philly (5-5), Carolina (6-4)

Philly lost its all-pro QB this week, and Carolina's 6-4 record is good enough to put them near the top of their rickety conference. Miami and Pittsburgh seem to be rallying their way into potential playoff runs.

Picture of the Day
The new poster. I love the film version of Voldemort. I wouldn't have cast Ralph Fiennes based on the book version of the character, but he does a great job.


In the News
The Congress and White House continue to settle down after the elections. The GOP Congress decided that the elections were a protest vote on the administration's policies and retained its recent Senate and House leadership, eschewing the chance to freshen up its hierarchy. McCain is the most prominent GOP presidential candidate-to-be, and he's the only one from the GOP Congress with the chance of a substantial campaign. But he's swinging hard to the right by saying Roe v. Wade should be overturned and courting Falwell's audience.

A Comment on the PlayStation 3 Insanity

There are hardcore gamers who will do anything for the latest technology.

Then there are gamers loyal to Sony and will buy anything that brand unleashes.

Then there are the people hoping to sell it on the secondary market.

I am a generational gamer. I've had a console system since I was in single-digit ages. I had an IntelliVision, Mattel's system that melded the availability of Atari 2600 and the graphics of the ColecoVision. I loved that machine. Love it. I played it so much (only child, remember) that I killed the unit and had to get another to replace it. It was reluctantly that I moved to Nintendo, but from that I had a Sega Genesis and then the PlayStation. I worked at the daily newspaper when the PlayStation 2 was released, and it was because of my paper job that I got one on Launch Day.

The paper sent its youngest newsroom workers to spread over the local stores and cover the people lined up to buy a system. And of course we decide to line up too. But I had a plan. Sony was only releasing a certain amount of systems. I divided that number by the number of major franchises and then factored how many stores were in each franchise. For instance, Best Buy had X national stores, so each store would get a minimum of Y units. And Best Buy had fewer stores than Circuit City and Wal-mart, so they would have more units per store.

I was assigned to cover an area Wal-Mart, and so I stood for a few hours before being informed the store had allocated its slim supply to the first people in line. The next morning, I went by Best Buy. There was a line of about 30 people outside the locked store, and I knew that Best Buy would give more units than that for each of their stores. I got in line. About 15 minutes later, the managers handed out numbered paper to correspond with each unit they had. They had about 50 to sell, and I was standing among the 40s. I had a PS2. A few hours later, the store opened, and I walked right up to the counter and was handed my PS2. Other paper people were in line for hours and hours. And while I had the shortest wait, we all grabbed on. That week, I wrote an article about my ex-wife hooking it up to our stereo.

And I loved the Ps2. I still have it, and it runs fine. We played Katamari Damacy, Mortal Kombat and Rampage on it. We had to get a DVD player because the newer DVDs surpassed what the PS2 could play. I just bought a new game for it last night (wrestling, naturally). I don't have the urge to get a Ps3, and it's possible the Ps2 will be my last console. I just don't have the time to devote to that focused a gaming experience. Games that require 20+ hours of gameplay could take me a year to finish.

So, no, I have no desire to get into that mad crowd of PS3 fanatics, but I wish them well-behaved camaraderie and warm feet.

Speaking of shopping, I order Your Sister's Christmas gifts from Amazon this week, and she's gonna plotz.

I Got The Call

They offered me Gooper. Rehearsals start Monday night after Thanksgiving.

Fuck, yeah.

Anxiety, Humility, Doubt

And that's why we love the theatre.

I spent a good portion of yesterday reading over Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I read both Brick and Gooper felt I had a good handle on them both. I didn't see any portions of dialogue that I would have a problem with, nothing felt inconsistent with the characters and I thought I could deliver the material well. I arrived at the callback at 6:30 and found myself amid a small group of guys. Half were obviously there for the Big Daddy role and there were maybe four who could read Brick and Gooper.

The assistant, Victoria, told us what pages to prepare for our auditions and explained that we would be called in pairs to read Daddy/Brick scenes. And off they went. And I wasn't called in. The director came out to survey the attendance, looked at me, and said "I'm sorry. We won't be needing you for a while." I was confused. What had I said to suggest I didn't want to read for Brick? He commented that I had a good feel for the character in the first audition. So I waited a bit. I'm a new guy. I don't know how to ask about this with this new group. In the meantime, I was confused. Should I ignore the Brick pages and focus entirely on maximizing my Gooper script? Or should I keep practicing the Brick material in case I did get a shot?

After 15 minutes of going over both roles and making nonproductive eye contact with the stage manager, I approached Victoria. Maybe I said something to suggest I didn't want Brick, I offered. I don't know the protocol, I explained. She said she couldn't help me in this and that I should ask the director. I was afraid she'd say that, and I understood fully that I did not want to put her in the middle with any appearance of advocating any applicant. But I was concerned that by the time I got in there, it would be too late. And indeed, before I was called in for Gooper, the director called in all the Bricks and Big Daddies for some sort of final line-up.

By this time, some actresses were arriving for their callbacks. The men exited the audition room, and most of them left. I was soon called in for a Gooper scene. Victoria let me pass by as she chose a few gals to read Big Momma and the wives. As she did this, I snuck in to the audition room, greeted the director, and asked the question: Had I disqualified myself from a Brick callback. No, he explained simply, it was nothing I said. And that was the simple truth. I just wasn't in the running. Fair enough, I thought, and I thanked him.

Now I knew it was a longshot to get that role. I'm new. I'm fresh off the street with these people, and they have no idea how responsible I am. Also, I've got gray hair. Brick should be about 27. I'm physically closer in age to Gooper. And looking at the Bricks that auditioned, it's easy to see I don't have the classic leading man looks that Brick should have. He has to be a golden child of sorts, and I'm a naturally darker type of actor. The director did go out of his way to apologize and say the callback should have been clear on that point, that I was reading for Gooper only. He didn't have to say that. So, it was Gooper or bust.

And I did get to read the scene about three times with a mix of actresses. Some, as had been the case Sunday, didn't know the play much less the scene, and each had to be walked through it a little bit before we started reading aloud. I'm a married man who commutes two hours a day, and I have time to read the script weeks before the audition. I wonder what they're doing to keep them from cracking open the play before they show up. Maybe these are people holding down two or three jobs. Maybe they all have kids.

I thought I did pretty well. I was slower, and that helped hold my accent. I was clear in projection, and I was consistent in each reading. Sometimes I think of a famous, great actor auditioning for the role and imitate them. For this, I was thinking of Gene Hackman in Mississippi Burning. But more of a jerk. In fact, if one can ever somewhat imitate or channel Hackman, I think they'll deliver a good performance.

In the last read, the stage manager asked which form of my name I prefer. I say what I always say (I like Gregory, but I'm not picky), and she said she wanted to get into the habit of saying it right. I immediately was gladdened as this suggested I'll be around, and I joked for her to please let me be around enough for that to be necessary. Again, I enjoyed it. I got to read the prime dickish Gooper line a few times. As I was leaving, however, the director asked if I would be willing to play other roles in the play, and I said sure. And all would be well in my head and gut had he not asked me that. That suggests I auditioned myself out of the part. I don't know what I could have done to not make the lines work. I think I grasp the character. I thought I could communicate that. He's who I gravitated toward initially. I would feel worse seeing someone else play this part than any other role in the play. There's only two other roles in the play I could do: the preacher and the doctor. Much smaller roles. Certainly manageable, significantly less fun.

So I drove home, dissecting mentally the callback and trying to spot my weaknesses. Maybe he's asking just to allow himself as many options as possible, I argued. Maybe I hammed the accent too much. Maybe, I admit, I'm just not good anymore. I've been out of theatre for two years. Maybe my acting muscles have atrophied. And I'll confess, it got a little pouty in my head, but I reminded myself (eventually) that all I wanted was to be satisfied with my audition. That's distinct from them being satisfied with it. I know that I had a good reading of Brick and Gooper. That was my initial goal. And if they offer a smaller role, it will be an investment of time and effort to the next role I audition for with them or another local theatre.

I did notice though that the in-town theatre is gonna present Broadway Bound which was my first show with Spartanburg Little Theatre. If I don't get anything with Hot Tin Roof, I can throw myself at a rebound audition. But I want that Asheville show. And now I wait to hear back with some measure of anxiety and a scoash of hope that Gooper isn't out of my reach.

Tick tock, tick tock.

Six Hours 'Til Callback

Of course, I'm nervous.

There's two roles I'm aiming for: Brick and Gooper

Me as Brick
Pros: I can act. I look fairly young. I'm in fairly good shape.
Cons: They don't know me. I'm a little old to play Brick. I'm not in former pro-QB shape.

Me as Gooper
Pros: I can act. I have no problem playing a dick. I'm about the right age.
Cons: They don't know me. They might prefer him to be a wimp. I'm maybe a bit young to play a father of five.

I'll hang around town tonight, read the script again at supper, and go to the theatre at 6:30. I wore a shirt that shows off my shoulders, and I'm trimmed the facial hair back a bit.

All I can do, I suppose.

Called Back

I made the first round of auditions as I was asked to come back tomorrow night to read again. No idea which part I'm in the running for. But, as with Sunday, I may know the play better than the other hopefuls. That could give me an edge. Either way, I made my first call back. And that's worth at least a touchdown dance.

The NFL
Her Teams
New England (6-3), NY Jets (5-4), Oakland (2-7)
Philly (5-4), Detroit (2-7)

My Teams
Miami (3-6), Pittsburgh (3-6)
Philly (5-4), Carolina (5-4)

Picture of the Day
The first extraterrestrial hurricane was captured by the Cassini probe at Saturn's south pole. The storm is 5,000 miles across.