Traditions, Both New and Old

Days Gone By (Not Our Real House)

It is still Christmas Eve in the U.S. as I write this and while Uncle P celebrates Christmas as a secular holiday in which we acknowledge, spend time and share gifts with those we love, for many it remains a deeply religious holiday celebrating the birth of their 'savior.' And since this isn't a post about religion, I'll leave that alone and get to the point.

While venturing out late in the afternoon to get a bottle of wine for tomorrow's dinner, I was struck by how the Holidays (like most of life) has changed over the years. Early Christmas memories evoke the many toys and gifts my mother's mother gave us each year, much to our father's consternation. The schadenfreude she derived from his jealously must have been some powerful juju! After she'd had a particularly good year in tips (she was a barmaid), our house was literally filled with presents and I'm surprised Dad didn't have a apoplectic stroke on the spot! At some point "Grandmom Cookie" (so-called because of her always full cookie jar) started spending Christmas Eve with us and we would open her presents then and Santa's and Mom and Dad's presents on Christmas morning. After she passed, we started opening all of our gifts on Christmas Eve. By then I was in college and working part time and Christmas Eve soon evolved into an open-house event where friends and co-workers came and went all night long, I still wonder how we fit so many people into that tiny house. I moved in and out of the house over the years following, but always managed to spend Christmas Eve there. New traditions for the evening continued to evolve after my parents divorced and other folks came into and/or left our lives. For a solid 10 years, Christmas Eve meant broasted* chicken from Chicken Holiday; Southern Comfort Manhattans; two embarrassing piles of presents; shrimp cocktail  and my rock, K. 

That changed again when Mom passed away last October and I spent Christmas Eve with my sister and BIL in Florida. The night before, K and M came over for chicken and such. And while we had a good time, the food wasn't up to their usual standards (I blame a different staff). So this year, even though I'm staying in PA, I decided to cook. On Sunday I made a lasagna and a Caramel Pumpkin Cream Cheese cake. Monday night I steamed and peeled a pound of shrimp and Tuesday night reheated the lasagna; glazed the cake and made cocktail sauce while frying up some battered green beans. Thank goodness M got here early, as I quickly dispatched him on a candle lighting mission. K arrived soon after and then lots of food and drink were consumed, presents were opened and much laughter was shared. 

While it was the first of several similar holiday experiences to come over the next few weeks, last night's Christmas Eve Eve has become what I hope will continue to be a new holiday tradition. For a while, at least. Until things change again, which is inevitable. Cultural traditions may seem steadfast and unchanging, but they are simply slower and less fluid than personal traditions.

I continue to be in awe of the family who have chosen me to a part of theirs, as much as I have chosen them.  K, Q, Dale, M, D and so many others never let me forget that I am not alone and never will be. And there's my astonishing sister. Strong, smart and always supportive, I can only hope you have a sibling who is half as amazing as she is (and yes, it's Christmas! I'm allowed to get gushy!). If you have even half the love in your life as I am blessed to, you know what I mean.

I have received (and will continue to do so) some very cool gifts (Mia's incredible "Zombie Batman" figurine got some stiff competition from Mary & Phil's Nightmare Before Christmas fleece and my sister's standing plush Mickey Skellington - all three of which are rendered in B&W).

None of that stuff, as cool as it may be, really matters.  Like all of us, these things will be dust in a thousand years. What matters is the love we share here and now. I guess what I'm saying is I am grateful for everyone who cares about me and bothers to read my nonsense. Be kind to one another. Know the difference between what does and doesn't matter. Give money or time to a charity that speaks to you, when and if you can. Smile at strangers. Say "Please" and "Thank You." Hold the door for the person behind you. Open the door for the person coming out ahead of you. Acknowledge those who do the same. Share the belief that most people are as good, but no better than, you. Never assume anyone is evil. Help people. Tell those you love that you love them as often as you can. Enjoy the things you have, but take nothing for granted. Enjoy your life. It's the only one you have!

Merry Christmas, my friends and readers! 

More, anon.

Uncle P.

*Pressure fried with no coating

Zombie Batman from Mia

Mickey Skellington from Barbara 

Back In the Saddle, Again.

Yes, You Are Seeing Double. The 'Fares' of Langhorne Players' Production of "Bluebird"

Next month will mark the first anniversary of my mother's passing. Uncle P's life has changed so drastically in such a short time that it seems both much longer and hardly a minute later at the same time. Of course, this probably only proves that time is an illusion. There can only ever be now. ("Whoa! Dude, too heavy..."  "Shut up, ya bloody wanker!"*)

Most of the inside of my house looks almost nothing like it did 11 months ago. It is very much starting to finally feel like my own place with my own distinct sense of style. That's helped a lot. I've also recently taken on a boarder (something I didn't want to do - I'd grown accustomed to being alone), but not something I regret. He  is a friendly acquaintance I first met while performing as Cassius in Julius Caesar in 1997. He needed the place, I had the room and I certainly like the extra money. Our schedules are different enough that we aren't often home at the same time and even when we are, we seem to get along quite well. He likes to boast that he is sharing a house with a gay man. I like to complain that he leaves the lid (not the seat) of the toilet up (toilet seats have lids for a reason - I don't want to have to fish anything out of mine, thank you) and he claims an inefficient freezer in a former home has left him with a habit of only filling ice cube trays half-way. But I will break him. Mwah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! No, seriously. It's working out well... so far. And yes, being a 12 year-old bartender means I must have a full ice bin at all times. Thanks again. Dad!

To tie all of this in with this post's title and the sprawling publicity photo above, despite the crazy crap that's been going on since she passed, I know Mom would be very upset to know that I'd put the thing about which I am most passionate on hold for so long. I was contacted by a director I knew by name only, at the suggestion of my very own Q (who knows me well enough to know it was time, as well). I was asked to come in and read for one or possibly two small roles in a play I'd never heard of, Bluebird by British playwright Simon Stephens. I got both parts and joined a show already two weeks into rehearsals with a bit of trepidation. Yes, they weren't huge rolls, but they were obviously important to the story and both have some hefty monologs. Thank His Great Noodly Appendages for my "Line Nazi" K, who always gets the job done! (LOVE you, Honey!). We officially opened last night (Friday) and while it was good, I still had a flub that almost threw me. 

Tonight, however, I was feeling particularly 'on,' as we say. I was calm and collected; focused and and firing on all cylinders. The performers among you will totally understand the feeling. Even better, two performances in and I am still finding new things about these two characters, both of whom are as different as can be, yet have so much in common. Bluebird is mostly set in a London Bluebird Mini-Cab and revolves around it's driver and a single night of fares who both inform and reflect his own story. I play Robert (a middle-class father returning to the scene of a crime on the day the perpetrator is being released from prison) and Andy (a tough-guy bouncer with a heart of gold, on his way home to his family after a rough night). Stephens' spare dialog is delicious to work with and immediately made me decide Andy was Cockney, which really gives him some delicious linguistic energy that's so very fun to play (and his very dirty mouth doesn't hurt - I love swearing on stage - it's very liberating)! Robert is much darker and sadder (and very drunk) - still a good exercise in character and mood, which is not as 'fun' to play, but equally satisfying. *And while I don't actually say it, "Shut up, ya bloody wanker!" seemed the obvious response in a post that has somehow turned out to be about dichotomy; death; life; theatre; acting; change and growth.

"Dude! What'd I say?"  Yeah, I know, but I'm not going to stop, because if there is one thing I have had reaffirmed these past few weeks (and especially tonight), it's that theatre can and should be transformative, for both performers and audiences. I can't speak for the audiences of any work in which I am involved, but as stressful and wonderful (I've not only made many new friends, but reconnected with one I hadn't seen in 30 years) as Bluebird has been, it reminded of why I do what I do. It is my 'religion' and it feeds my 'soul,'  however you decide to define either. And I am so very glad to be feeding so satisfyingly. Of course, I used to have to add silver to my hair to age me. Now I have to spray it darker to 'youthen' me. And don't get me started about mascara in my goatee!

Depending on when you are reading this, there are still 9 performances left. Be forewarned, this will not be everyone's cup of tea, you should pardon the metaphor. It's dark and spare and doesn't have a lot of action (almost the entire show is set inside the cab - cleverly designed and executed by the director and a fellow cast-mate, so it's never static for too long) but every 'episode' - no matter how brief - informs, echoes and/or foreshadows the bigger picture that is ultimately Andy's path to a sense of closure and self-redemption. Chewy, yummy actory stuff and exactly (as Q knew) what I needed, when I needed it most. For info and tickets, visit www.langhorneplayers.org.

Well, there's a ramble for you, eh? One of Andy's admonitions is "Enjoy the sunshine!" This is my sunshine. It is warm. It is friendly. It is good. Thank you to Mr Ken Junkins, who saw something he liked and trusted me to do what needed to be done.  And forever and forever thank you to Q for knowing this was the right project to ease myself back into and K for the line drills. Small enough to not have the line-load of 'Prospero,' but still artistically challenging and rewarding, I am so happy I agreed to do it.

Things are really starting to look at least a little bit better. At least, I hope so. Change is both inevitable and good. While embracing change isn't always easy, stagnant water both looks icky and stinks!

Here's a bit more about Bluebird and the London company that developed the original production:

I'm not saying it's all roses and lollipops. Hardly. There's all sorts of nonsense still going on that you would think I was making it all up if I told you. But the newest sense of normalcy seems to be a thousand times better than the worst possible scenario. 

Shameless Self-Promotion/Nonsense/Philosophizing over.

More, anon.
Prospero

Romeo & Julian, an Amazing Juggler and Some Zombies Walk Into a Blog...

No one will better appreciate that title than my sister, I'm sorry to say. She will find it particularly hilarious, in fact. In just the way that many of the things we share as hilarious, are specifically hilarious to the two of us, only (though Q shares our love of and many of the same specific moments from a very popular series of classic short comedies which we all grew up watching on UHF - and no, that's not a channel - shut up, I'm old!).

As you can probably tell from that rather insane intro, Uncle P has had a fairly stressful week, leaving me at less than my usually focused (haha) self. There are several factors working to make me rather scattered (which I won't go into other than to say one is personal and one is artistic) and I have lots of things I want to talk about (For example: Why do I type "talk" when I am obviously writing?) Anyway, trying to retain some semblance of sanity (cue: Nelson Muntz) I suppose I should start in order then, yes? So first up was...

Romeo and Julian, it is. Out in the Dark is a love story about a Palestinian student and an Israeli doctor. Since premiering earlier this year at the Toronto Film Festival, Out in the Dark has since won several other film-fest awards. Daring and controversial? Hardly. Original and groundbreaking? Just the gay version of one of the oldest plots in history. All that having been said, the trailer is pretty amazing and it gives me hope that the film just might have something new to say about the old tropes and stereotypes which have permeated LGBTQ cinema for the past decade. Or not. Or it could just be another bad romantic thriller... What do you think?

I believe an Amazing Juggler was next, was it not? With only 500,000 views since it was first loaded back in 2009, I suspect the below video of juggler Alexander Koblikov is about to explode. I first saw it today on Facebook, but don't remember who posted it (if it was you, let me know). I've always been a fan of Variety and Circus Arts (I had a college acting professor who held his PhD in those very fields) and regular readers certainly know at least one of my obsessions by now. When I shared it on Facebook, a few friends commented on the fact that Koblikov never smiles throughout his admittedly jaw-dropping performance. On further review, it's apparent why he's not smiling: He's demonstrating a skill which he's obviously spent his entire life developing, rather than just 'showing off.' It's a deliberate and justified choice.

Which leaves us with Zombies, Last but certainly never least. Season 4 of the phenomenon that is AMC's "The Walking Dead" is just about 2 weeks away and fans like Uncle P and my sister are jonesing pretty bad. The first clip I'm sharing has been around (I may well have shared it before), but my dear Patrick in Chicago shared it with me today, and it's just hilarious, every time I see it. Drreeet!

This next video is one I hadn't seen before, as well. They are calling it the 'Season 4 Extended Trailer - New Footage" but the Comicon trailer was longer. They should have just said 'New Footage' or 'Trailer 2'

"Things are only going to get worse." Yup.

Shocktober is just a few days away. I won't promise 31 posts in a row this year (though don't be surprised if I try) but if I come up with a really great theme, I just might. And you can help. Leave me a comment with your idea for my Shocktober 2013 Theme.

More, anon.
Prospero