First Play Practice

First play practice is today. Oh, man, am I curious about how it's gonna go.

But first, I'm waiting to be seen for another Shakespeare Festival audition. Come on. Quit my day job? Please. I've got a career to get back on track. I'll get there when I get there.

Then immediately after first rehearsal is "temp work" till 9:30. Holy cats, it's gonna be a long day.

***

It wasn't meant to be.

The audition for what may as well have been the French Riviera Shakespeare Festival. I mean, seriously. What WAS I thinking?

Got in line at 7:30. Fifth person. Then someone starts passing down this list. "Non equity?" the guy asks.

"EMC," I say.

"Oh. Well here you go."

Confused, I signed up on the list. I mean, these guys seemed to know what they were doing. And now they're all leaving and coming back at 9.

When in Rome!

Long story very, very short, never, NEVER--I really mean it--N-E-V-E-R get out of line.

I could almost cry about this one. You have no idea how difficult it is just to get in the door here. Oh well. Live and learn, I guess.

So no audition today. Let's hop on the train and see how play practice goes.

***

Okay, the music is really pretty good. Some catchy tunes.

That said...

There is zero organization. There is no stage manager. There is no rehearsal calendar. There is no plan to get us all playing these instruments like ukulele fiends. Today's read-through was the first time our director heard/read/did anything with the script.

There are storm clouds on the horizon. I can hear a rumble of thunder in the distance.

But the music IS GOOD.

The cast, however...

The guy playing "the Mysterious Stranger" comes off as one of the more arrogant people I've worked with yet. He's a real musician and quite a bit older than the rest of us so he took great pleasure in showing off all his vast knowledge.

At first I thought, "What a prick!" Then you stop and think, "He's a prick about the *ukulele*." There's something about that that makes it funny.

Then there's Brassy Sassy. Brassy Sassy is 22 and lives in Queens or something and pays, like, $2 a month for her apartment.

I know this because Brassy Sassy is also a nosy little thing who wanted to know where everybody lives. When I told her "the Kitch" (as I call it), her eyes bugged out rudely and she said, "Oh my gawd! Are you RICH??" I said no.

"Well yuh must be!! You live THERE! I mean, GAWD! I live in a huge apartment and only pay ten bucks a month!"

She looked at me with this skwunched up face for the next five minutes.

I've found a lot of people who don't live in Midtown do that. It's this prejudice. And to those people, I'd like to gently say, "Shut up, please." It's hard enough livin here without having people tell you what an idiot you are for living three blocks from Times Square.

***

But the music IS GOOD. I wonder how we're gonna pull this off...oh Lord.

Okay. It's almost time for "temp work". Holy cats. What a day.